Page 2 of Alpha Hunt
The door to the changing room swings open, and Savannah walks in, one hand resting on the curve of her belly. She’s really showing now, and she has that glow about her that people talk about when a woman is carrying.
She looks surprised to see me standing there buck-naked. “Oh! Sorry, Casey. I was looking for Gage.”
“You just missed him,” I tell her, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around me, then tucking the end in to secure it. “He and Callum headed out on patrol.”
“Right. Of course.” She looks a little embarrassed, her cheeks flushing pink. “I should have realized.”
I shrug, unconcerned by her presence, as I head for my locker. “No worries.”
As I rummage in my bag for clean clothes, I can feel her eyes on me. It’s not unusual – I’m used to being stared at, either because I’m the only female on the team or because of the silver tracery of scars that mark my back, a roadmap of a past I don’t like to think about. But when I glance over at her, there’s something different in her expression. Admiration, maybe?
“You’re in incredible shape,” she says, almost to herself. Then, realizing she spoke aloud, she hurries to add, “I mean, it’s clear you work out hard. I’m envious.”
I pause, a clean shirt in my hands, and look at her properly. It’s true that Savannah and I have developed an unlikely friendship since she arrived at Steel Lakes eight months ago. But I’m not good at this kind of thing – talking about feelings or exchanging compliments. It’s just not who I am.
Still, I find myself intrigued by the changes in her. She seems so content, so…maternal. It’s a strange concept for me. I’ve never really thought about having kids. My lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to domesticity.
“Thanks,” I say finally, pulling on the shirt. “It’s kind of a requirement in my line of work.”
She nods, her hand still absently rubbing her belly. “I can imagine.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence as I finish dressing. I’m acutely aware of the differences between us – her soft curves and my honed muscles, her easy warmth, and my prickly reserve.
“You’re…uh…looking pretty great yourself.” I direct a nod at her stomach as I pull up my sweatpants.
“Prettyhuge, you mean.” She gives a wry smile. “I swear, by the time this is over, I’ll have forgotten what my toes look like.”
I glance at the floor at her pretty sandaled feet. “They look like sausages,” I deadpan.
“Oh, my God!” Savannah snort-laughs. “Now there’s a picture. Thanks a lot.”
“Public service for pregnant fairies courtesy of the Stone Zone.” I shrug and wink. “My work here is done.”
“Remind me not to ask your opinion on other pregnancy-related matters in future.” Savannah pulls a teasing face, but then her expression softens as she rests a hand on her belly. “I don’t mind the fat feet, actually. Or the sore back. I’m loving this.”
“I imagine it must feel like a miracle. Creating new life and…uh…all that.” I’m fumbling for words. I have no idea what any of this must feel like.
“I couldn’t do it alone.” She pinches her lips for a moment. “Gage has been amazing through all of this. He’s so excited about the twins, you’d think they were his own flesh and blood.” She pauses, a wistful look crossing her face. “I just wish I could be carrying his own children. But there’ll be time for that later when we’re ready to expand our family.”
I nod, unsure what to say. I’ve never been good at this kind of talk. Babies and mates and all that domestic stuff…it’s just not my world.
Savannah seems to realize who she’s talking to and stops herself. “Listen to me, going on and on.” She gives a self-conscious laugh. “I’m sure this is the last thing you want to hear about.”
I shrug again, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s fine. I’m happy for you and Gage.”
She studies me for a moment, her green eyes thoughtful. “Have you ever wanted that, Casey? A mate, a family of your own?”
The question catches me off guard. I busy myself with stuffing my dirty clothes into my bag, avoiding her gaze. “Nah. I’m too busy for that kind of thing. The team keeps me pretty occupied.”
“There’s always time for love,” Savannah says gently. “You shouldn’t close yourself off to the possibility. I bet there are plenty of guys out there who would jump at the chance to be with a woman like you.”
I snort at that. “Right. Because every man wants a mate who can kick his ass six ways to Sunday.”
She laughs. “You’d be surprised. Confidence is sexy. And you’ve got that in spades.”
I zip up my bag with more force than necessary. “Look, Savannah, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But I’m just not cut out for the whole hearts and flowers thing. I’m happy with my life the way it is.”
Even as I say the words, I wonder if they’re true. Am I really content with my solitary existence? Or am I just telling myself that because it’s easier than admitting what I really want?