Page 11 of Players and Pages
The moment she mentioned it was a competition, the mood changed. If there was anything our team thrived on, it was a challenge. We would work our asses off to rise above the other teams.
Once I got the hang of the moves, I found myself singing along like I always did. There was something to be said for the way dance warmed up your muscles and the music calmed your nerves. I’d at least lost a good chunk of tension, so I’d call that a win.
By the time we made it to actual practice I was more than exhausted, but it was only the beginning.
Tonight we had a t-shirt giveaway and even more dances and hype sessions to perform.
If I survived.
There was a fine line between omega nesting habits, and being a full blown hermit, and I was teetering a little too close to the latter.
The girls and I always took a weekend off each month and it was currently my turn. I’d spent the last day and a half burrowed in my blankets and pillows and watching the new season ofAlphas of Ashford.
I lived for the absolute drama of it all. The alphas all had special abilities and abs for days. What was there not to love?
As the latest episode ended, I let out a sigh and paused. It was time to shower because even I felt disgusting at this point. I’d barely distracted myself from the impending response from the Knockout’s team. In fact, I’d checked my email a million times, and it was slowly driving me nuts.
It took everything in me to drag my ass off my fluffy couch and drag my smelly self to the shower.
After a long, hot shower, I was starving, and still unsettled. My omega was antsy since scenting Cy and it was getting worse with every day that passed. She was feeling abandoned and rejected.
When I closed my eyes, I swear I could still smell his earthy, fresh rain scent. My omega had been ready to go search him out, but no matter how I twisted it, I’d done everything I could so far.
We just had to wait. Something neither of us were good at.
As if I summoned it by thought alone, my phone pinged. I ran back into the living room and snatched my phone up to find an email waiting from the team. My heart pounded erratically as I clicked it open. My eyes skimmed the words, tears blurring as I reached the end.
Unknown Sender:
Hi, this is Lane from the Knuckleball Knockouts PR team! We apologize for the near hit by the ball but are so excited that Cy could catch it before anything could happen. We take messages from our fans seriously, but we do not allow anything related to mating, dating, or anything in between to come in. Sorry for the inconvenience.
I groaned as I dropped my phone, swiping at the frustrated tears. It was silly to be this emotional. I knew that this was a possibility, but it didn’t hurt any less.
He scented the same thing I did, now it was up to my alpha to find me. I had to let this go for now. There was no way to get a hold of them without sounding crazy and being fielded by the PR team over and over again.
In the meantime, I vowed to myself I wouldn’t take any chances with my mental health and would avoid any and all social media or game footage until he found me.
The rejection email had me far too grumpy to cook food, so I ordered a pizza and grabbed one of the brownies I’d baked yesterday. I’d been trying hard not to resort to my old habit of stress baking. It never did my figure any favors and I was trying hard to be healthier in my choices.
Today wasn’t the day to care about that.
With dinner handled, I hit play again, losing myself in the group of dark and sexy alphas and the plot that had more twists and turns than a roller coaster.
The fact it distracted me from my sexy baseball scent-match was a big win.
At least while it lasted.
First, it started with restlessness. An itching under my skin to move. Then I was shifting my hand to my phone, fingers curling around it.
It was a compulsion, one that made me breathless and feeling out of control. I knew damn well what my omega was craving, why she was so crazy right now.
But I couldn’t give in.
Yes, he was my alpha and a scent-match.
We were also from two different worlds.
Then my asshole of a brain brought me an image of his closest friends, the trio and pack that were the golden boys of the Knuckleball Knockouts.
