TWENTY NINE

TWENTY NINE

Just as we’re settling in, an older woman strolls out carrying a tray of drinks, her silver-streaked hair pulled back tight and a glint of mischief in her eye. She stops when she sees us.

“Well, look at this. You boys actually managed to convince real women to come with you?” Her gaze sweeps over Selene and me.

“I’d ask how you pulled that off, but judging by the smell, I’m guessing they have a high tolerance for locker room funk.”

That’s it. I’m obsessed with her. I bite my lip to hold back a laugh. Selene? She doesn’t even try—she’s already cracking up.

“Excuse me,” Leo says, offended in the way only a guy can be. “This is the scent of hard work and masculinity.”

Jade points a dramatic finger my way, grinning like a kid caught red-handed. “Before you throw shade, Martha, blame the taskmaster over there. She’s the reason we smell like death. Four hours. In the sun.

On a Saturday. So yeah—if anyone deserves a scolding, it's Coach Tiny. But maybe feed us first, yeah? We’re dying.”

Martha looks me up and down with a grin that says she knows exactly what she’s doing. “So you’re the one who wore them out?”

I nod, unsure if she’s going to curse me or crown me.

“Well then,” she says, setting the tray down with a flourish. “Your meal’s on the house. Any girl who can humble this pack of showboats is welcome here anytime. I’ve never seen them drag themselves in like this after a workout. You must’ve hit a nerve.”

Selene and I exchange a laugh. It’s impossible not to love her.

“Martha, that’s not fair!” Leo pouts, reaching for a glass. “We’ve been loyal for years, and you’ve never given us anything free—not even a breadstick.”

She pats his cheek, affectionate but firm. “You are special, sugar. But girl code comes first. And from the looks of it, she’s the first woman in your orbit who isn’t falling all over herself to impress you. That’s worth celebrating.”

I choke on my drink. Actually choke. Real, unattractive, water-down-the-wrong-pipe coughing.

Max and Ethan are immediately on either side of me, trying to help while also stifling laughter.

Martha doesn’t miss a beat. “What? You didn’t know? They never bring their... friends here. This place is their off-limits zone. Which means you two must be something else.”

My eyes go wide. But not as wide as theirs. They all look like she just exposed a state secret. And—oh wow—are they blushing?

Ethan clears his throat. “We’ve brought girls here before…”

Martha gives him a look over the rim of her glasses. “Sweetheart, no you haven’t. Not like this.”

“Yeah, all the time,” Leo blurts out before anyone even finishes the question. He straightens up, clearly trying to sound cool, but the way his gaze flicks to Selene and the way her brows lift—makes him flinch slightly.

Busted.

He leans back again, trying to play it off, but his awkward grin says it all.

Max jumps in to help him save face. “I mean, we usually roll in here with a mix of people. It’s not just us. Guys, girls… the usual crowd.”

Martha eyes them both, her lips curling into a grin like she’s caught them in a harmless lie.

“Right, but how many of those girls actually sit right here, in this booth, with you two?” She taps the table for emphasis, then smirks. “Exactly. Think on that while I grab your food.”

Before she walks away, she turns to us. “Now tell me, are you just gonna steal fries off their plates, or should I bring you proper menus?”

“I’m definitely ordering for myself,” I say, maybe a little too fast.

Selene nods, “Leoe. I want my own.”

Martha lights up. “Girls who eat and think for themselves—imagine that!” She winks, already walking off like she’s just scored a personal victory.

She’s back in record time, balancing a tray full of drinks like a pro—waters, sodas, and no questions asked. She knows the guys' orders by heart. Clearly, this isn't her first round with them.

Selene and I glance through the menu and order without fuss. And when the food arrives? It’s a glorious overload.

A mountain of plates. Waffles, fruit, eggs, hash browns—the works. I don’t waste a second. I’m already forking into the waffles like they owe me something. Selene’s right beside me, tearing into her plate like she skipped breakfast and lunch.

The guys stare at us like we just sprouted extra heads. For a moment, they look genuinely stunned. Then reality catches up, and they remember their own food, finally digging in.

By the time the table’s a mess of empty dishes and wiped plates, we’ve fallen into easy conversation, laughter bubbling up as we pass around leftovers like it’s family brunch.

It’s the kind of moment you forget to measure in time.

And of course, that’s when the mood sours.

“Wow,” chirps an all-too-sweet voice. “Didn’t know you guys were hanging out here today. You so should’ve called us—we would’ve joined you.”

Raven. Wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She flips her hair, arm looped around another girl’s, both of them weighed down with shopping bags.

“We’ve just been out doing a little shopping,” she says, with a pointed glance at us. “You know, gotta keep looking our best. Future Alphas and all.”

Her giggle is sharp enough to cut glass.

“We’re already good on company, but thanks,” Ethan says without missing a beat.

I feel the blood drain from my face. He doesn’t even realize the target he’s just painted on Selene and me.

But Selene? She doesn't flinch. She just leans back in her seat, calm as ever, like Raven’s words were background noise.