In Doubt, page 10
This girl is my competition. The one thing standing between me and my place on Professor’s Weaver’s research team. My opportunity to undertake the research I want to. To prove my ideas and theories. To make a name for myself. To prove to my parents I’m worthy of their attention.
I’d do well to remember that and get my head back in the game. Stop being distracted by her intoxicating scent, and the softness of her lips, and the way her bare shoulders rise and fall or her hair rustles against her collar bone…
And … shit shit shit!
I need to stop being such a giant dickwad. Stop being so goddamn nice. Treat her like the opposition. Be ruthless.
I shove my hands into my pocket.
That’s going to be easier said than done. Especially when she peers up at me through her eyelashes.
“I’ve got to go,” I lie. “Car’s waiting.”
She smiles at me. All wide and genuine. She’s had two glasses of wine. That’s all it is probably. She wouldn’t usually be smiling at me like that otherwise.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She curls her hair behind her ear, wrist brushing against the slender column of her neck. I fucking gulp. “Thank you again for sweet talking Professor Weaver.”
“It was nothing,” I mumble, trying my best to ignore the warm sensation blossoming in my chest at her thanks. I stride away quickly before I give it too much thought, before I give in to the temptation to reach out and kiss her again.
Kissing her is a bad idea. Then she’ll meld herself well and truly under my skin and that ruthlessness I need to secure my spot will disappear in a puff of smoke.
You can’t kiss a fucking girl, then be her cold-hearted opponent the next moment. At least I can’t. That’s not how I operate. The alpha instincts to care, to protect, to defend, kick in and I’m well and truly doomed.
I’m not handing this research place to her on a plate. I’ve worked hard. It’s been no easy feat juggling a Masters degree and my position on the rugby team. Most of the men don’t give a shit about their studies. I’m competing against them for my place. I have to work twice as hard for mine.
I storm through the hotel lobby and out to the front of the hotel. It’s silent here and empty. No one else about. I lean against the wall and breathe. Then I stab at my phone, instructing the driver to get here as fast as he can. Ten minutes later, he’s swinging into the hotel drive and I don’t waste a minute ducking inside the vehicle and speeding the hell away.
I’m thankful to find my packmates still up when I arrive at the villa.
They’re gathered around the pool nursing glasses of whisky. I pour myself a large measure and knock it back before slumping into a chair next to Aiden.
All three of them wait for me to speak and when I don’t, Aiden kicks my foot. “Good evening, then?” he asks.
I open my mouth to speak, then shake my head and swipe the whisky bottle from the table, chugging two long gulps straight from the neck.
“That bad, huh?” Levi says.
“Probably worse,” I mutter, flinging back my head and staring up at the sky. Stars litter the black blanket in such volume they merge into one long smudge of white light, streaking across the heavens. On any other night I’d be lost for hours looking up at that sky. Tonight I’m too lost inside my own head, in the contradictory emotions crashing through my body.
“Are you going to tell us about it?” Aiden prods. “You’ll probably feel better if you do.”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Probably,” Levi jokes.
I give him the finger for the second time today. If it wasn’t for the crazy sense of jealousy he’d stirred in me as he was riding off in that taxi with Giorgie this afternoon, I would never have bothered turning up for that dinner.
Jealous? I haven’t felt jealous for a long time. It was an emotion that sat raging in my chest when the wounds of my parents finding their new lives were fresh. But those wounds are old now and the jealousy faded long ago.
I’ve never felt jealous towards one of my packmates. Not when they’ve been picked for the team and I’ve been left on the bench. Not when they’ve scored the winning try. Not ever over a girl.
But the idea that she could like him, while hating me, had driven me half mad. Had had me dashing to that dinner faster than a cheetah on steroids.
Things seem to have shifted between us in the last few days. Our animosity has cooled, reformed into something resembling respect. I needed to know if I’d imagined it all. If it was real.
“I very nearly kissed Giorgie Martinelli.”
There’s silence for a moment, and I drag my gaze down from the sky to peer at my friends. They are all examining me with keen interest.
“Nearly?” Levi asks.
“Nearly,” I repeat.
Silence again.
“Oh, come on, mate!” Levi tosses a balled up napkin my way. “How can you nearly kiss a girl? What the hell actually happened?”
I duck the missile and rub at my chin. “I don’t know. She was looking up at me with big wide eyes, giving me that damn kiss me look.”
“You sure you interpreted that right?”
“Fuck knows,” I mutter. “I went in for the lean and then …”
“And then …” Dylan says.
“And then …”
“Shit, Jake, then what?” Aiden snaps.
“Some dude interrupted us and dragged her away. That dude who is always hanging out with her and I suspect has his eye on her.”
“Probably. She’s fucking hot, Jake.”
I slump back in my chair. “You should’ve seen her tonight. Every guy there had his tongue hanging out. I wanted to throttle the lot of them.”
The others exchange looks. “So what? You’re feeling sexually frustrated or something?” Dylan asks.
“He’s always felt sexually frustrated when it comes to Giorgie Martinelli.” Levi chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s not new.”
“Never got so goddamn close to kissing the wench before though, have I?” I mutter, wondering if that’s what this is. Just sexual frustration. The very real need to rut the woman senseless.
I look away towards the shimmering swimming pool. A dragonfly hovers above its surface, skating from one spot to another.
“Are you developing feelings for this girl?” Aiden asks me, the joking tone gone from his voice, replaced with something more serious. “Because I always thought it was just a sexual attraction thing.”
“I don’t know,” I say, which is the truth. “But I can’t afford to. She’s the only thing standing between me and my dream. I can’t get soft now.”
Aiden slaps me on the shoulder. “Come on, man. You got this. You made it this far. You can see it to the end. Keep your shit together. Don’t be swayed by that pretty smile and that fuck-me scent. That spot is yours.”
“Yeah,” I say without enthusiasm, knocking back the rest of the whisky. Easy for Aiden to say. I’d like to see him resist an omega like that, all wrapped up in a present of a dress, her body so close I could feel the heat of her damn skin. Could practically taste her.
“Want us to come along tomorrow for moral support?” Dylan offers.
“I can distract her again if you like?” Levi offers.
I glare at him. Poking at this crazy-arsed jealousy of mine would not be helpful. Then again, with them there, their scents diluting hers, all my attention won’t be zoned-in completely on her.
I point a finger at Levi. “You can come if you promise to behave.”
Levi winks at me. “Nah, I can’t come anyway, mate. You know that. Got my physio to run through tomorrow morning.”
I nod, more relieved than I’d admit, and turn to the others.
“We’ll be there,” Aiden tells me. He’s my wingman. He’s always been there when I’ve needed him.
Dylan nods too. “Got nothing better to do.”
“Except sleep,” I tell him. “It’s an early start.”
“Hey, I wanna see this temple – the one that’s given all you nerds such boners.”
“Thanks,” I say, the combination of their reassurance and the warm whisky in my belly calming me. I lumber to my feet, scrubbing my hand through my hair. “I’m going to hit the sack then. I want my head in the game for tomorrow.”
I have a feeling about tomorrow. That it is going to be life changing. An opportunity not to be missed.
It also means spending several more hours in her company. And that scares the shit out of me.
11
Giorgie
I watch Jake Grantham practically sprint away from me with an odd sort of disappointment residing in my chest. One minute he’s almost, very nearly, kissing me and the next he can’t stand to be near me.
I touch my fingers to my lips.
At least I think he was going to kiss me. Something in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on my mouth, the manner in which he leaned towards me.
But perhaps it was the glasses of wine, the floral fragrance in the air, the flickering candle light in the darkness.
Maybe the fantasy in the shower has confused me.
Maybe I imagined it.
Which would be a good thing. I certainly do not need to be kissing Jake Grantham. Or thinking about that calendar photo of him. Or his three hot packmates.
Tomorrow is a big day. A huge day. If my hunch is right and we actually find something of interest, then this could be the difference that clinches that place on Professor’s Weaver’s team for me. I need to be professional. I don’t need to be worrying about some alpha and his intentions and his wandering hands. His electric, skin-tingling hands.
What is wrong with me?
It must be the heat as well as those glasses of wine. I march to the table and pour myself some water, avoiding several men trying to catch my eye.
I’m not interested in hooking up.
It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Jake has now left. Nothing to do with the fact he won’t be here to see me draped over some other guy. Nothing to do with the fact that I can’t get his stupid picture out of my head, or his scent from my nose. Or stop thinking about the way his eyes seemed to heat locked on to my mouth. Or the way he’d listened to my ideas. Praised my theory. Convinced the professor to let us test my hypothesis.
I slam the water glass down on the table and walk back towards Sia. I’m definitely a little wobbly on my feet. I didn’t drink that much, did I?
I swing my arm around Sia’s neck and plant a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. She hooks her own arms around my waist, helping to steady me.
“OK, there, pal?” she asks me.
“Absolutely.“ I grin. I am absolutely fine and not obsessing at all about why Jake nearly kissed me and then didn’t. Not just didn’t, but ran away. I am not mulling over how good his warm body felt against mine when he helped me down into the trench or wondering why he was happy to claim the find as ours and not his.
“Are you drunk?” Sia asks.
I hold my hand up and squint towards a gap between my finger and thumb.
“Maybe just a teeny, weeny bit.”
“You are such a lightweight. How much did you drink? Like two glasses?”
“Exactly,” I say, trying to focus on her face as it sways from side to side.
“Let’s get you up to bed.”
“I’ll walk you up if you want?” Carl says. “I was heading up to bed myself.”
I yawn and rest my head on Sia’s shoulder.
“I think I’d better do it,” Sia tells him. “I should get to bed as well. We don’t want to oversleep.”
I let Sia guide me into the hotel and up the staircase.
“He’s really very frustrating,” I murmur as she fiddles with the key in the lock.
“Jake, again?” she asks, her lips twitching into a smile.
“I really don’t understand the man. It’s infuriating.”
“And here was I, thinking you two were getting on so well tonight.”
“Too well,” I mutter under my breath.
Sia pushes the door, eyeing me with suspicion as I walk through. Immediately, I shed my hot sticky dress and climb on top of the bed, my eyes growing heavy as soon as my cheek hits the pillow.
As my eyelids fall shut I remember. My suppressant. My pill. I need to take it. But it’s already too late, I’m drifting into sleep.
It’s not an alarm that wakes me the next morning. Or one of the other girls in the room. It’s the sound of a fist hammering on the door. Followed by the professor’s angry voice.
“Ladies, are you joining us this morning?”
“Shit!” Sia shrieks, leaping down from the bunk and sprinting to the door. I sit bolt upright and hit my head on the bunk above me. How did we miss our alarm?! I swear I set it. Although last night is a little hazy. Still is, to be perfectly honest. And now I probably have a head injury too. Great.
“Yes, professor, we’ll be right there. Sorry.”
“Oh my God,” I mumble as I scrabble out of my bed, and toss clothes from my bag trying to find a shirt to wear. “This is so unprofessional. The professor isn’t going to want me within a mile of her team.”
“You’ve never missed a lecture or a class in your life. You’ve never even handed in an assignment late. She isn’t going to change her opinion on you just because we’re late.”
“I don’t know,” I say, chewing my lip as I dash to the bathroom. There’s no time for a shower, so I wash in the sink as best I can, swiping yesterday’s mascara from around my eyes. I pull on my clothes, lather some deodorant under my arms and jam my feet into my boots. This time I remember my pills, swiping them out of my washbag. I examine the package.
Two pills? Oh my goodness. Two pills missed!
I’ve missed one in the past but never two in a row like this. I swipe at my brow, wondering if I should take a double dose or something to make up for it. I do not want to go into heat. But taking a double dose doesn’t seem very sensible either. I have no idea what it could do to my body. Best I take one tablet as normal and hope it resets everything. I’m pretty sure it will be fine.
I crack the silver foil with my thumb nail and push the pill through the break, pinching it between my two fingers.
“Come on, Giorgie!” Sia calls from the doorway. I shove the pill into my pocket and chase her out into the hallway. There’s no time to even tie my laces as I race down the stairs in the wake of Sia and climb onto the coach. Everybody else is already there waiting, some looking amused, others pissed off. Professor Weaver is definitely in the latter camp.
“Nice of you to join us, ladies,” she comments as we skulk past her to claim our seats. At least Jake isn’t here to see my shame this morning. He is obviously heading straight to the site from his villa. Probably to get a head start on me. I wonder if all that niceness yesterday was one big ruse and today he will screw me over. Try to claim the idea of this new trench location as his own.
That’s what some alphas do. Pretend they like you. Pretend to be kind, and charming. Pretend they’ll take care of you. And then they screw you over. Is Jake one of them? I’m not sure anymore.
“Are you alright?” Sia asks, tucking her shirt into her harem pants as I plonk down into the seat next to her.
“Fine,” I say chirpily. Jamming my hand into the pocket of my khaki trousers, I hunt about for the pill. At first, I can’t find the wretched thing, sweat pooling at the nape of my neck in panic. I scissor my fingers backward and forward, knowing it must be there somewhere. Then finally, with a sigh of relief, I locate the little round disc lodged right in the corner. I hook it out and unscrew the cap from my water bottle with my palm, I tip some water into my mouth, lifting the pill to my lips. At that moment, the coach jerks to a halt, and I’m flung forward in my seat.
The pill slips from my fingers tumbling towards the floor. I gasp in horror, swiping my hand to try to catch it. It falls right through my fingers, bouncing once, twice on the coach floor before rolling away.
I yelp, swinging into the gangway, but it’s too late. I’ve lost sight of the tiny thing under all the pairs of feet, rucksacks and seats.
Why do they make the things so small!!
I flop back against the seat, flinging my head against the cushion and repress a loud screech.
It seems fate is determined to keep me from taking these stupid pills.
“What?” Sia asks, now busy braiding her hair, an elastic caught between her teeth.
“I just lost my pill.”
“Your contraceptive pill?” Her eyebrows wiggle. “I thought this was a business-only trip. I strictly remember you saying when I listed all the guys coming on the trip, that you weren’t interested in hooking up with–”
“I know what I said,” I say through gritted teeth. “It was a suppressant pill, not contraception.”
“Oh,” Sia says. This stuff always makes her uncomfortable, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. It makes all betas uncomfortable. They get all squeamish at the mention of heats, and as for knotting … I once brought it up in a conversation with Sia, Zoe and Maya and all three of them looked like they might vomit. “Is it a problem?” Sia asks me.
No, it’s not going to be a problem. Because I won’t let it be. Confusing alphas. Missed alarm clocks. Lost suppressant pills. Nothing is going to stop me today.
Apart from the chief archeologist on this dig.
Professor Weaver spends 30 minutes in his tent arguing with him before he will even deem to see Jake and me. And then it’s with obvious reluctance and scepticism. As well as a healthy dose of sexism. The older man addresses all his questions at Jake, barely throwing a glance my way. Jake obviously isn’t feeling as generous today, because he’s quite happy to answer despite this being my idea.
After five minutes of this, my patience is wearing thin.
“And what gives you the impression that such a temple as this would possess another entrance?”
I bet Professor Weaver has already gone through these details with him but he wants to hear it from us. Jake opens his mouth to answer. This time I beat him to it.
