Icy Nights: Mated to The Three Alphas

ss

can taste it. My boots stick to dried syrup on the floor, and a c

offee tastes like a boot. If I blow this much on lunch

doors. I waited twenty m

ves a silver fork mid-story, clean cotton and

y yells across the chairs

the p

ooke asks, eyes on

s cold an

ars well spent

video. Brooke has

e says. "It's a golden retri

shoves a chair with her foot. "Si

ake this frozen campus feel manageable

s own that space. Red and gold jackets crowd the ben

l wool over a crisp white shirt. He isn't weari

t suit," Tin

lored wool to

with rich famil

rist. He scrolls his phone while two team

om around him wi

edge, legs spread wide. "Check t

"Lila made a girl cry last sem

taring. I'

owns the aisle

nds, the way I'd walk past any table.

ove," Cody calls to

ll pull his foot back, the way guys do w

doe

hes his sneaker a

into open air. The ceramic pasta plate f

ffee runs down his dark silk tie. A

iet. Forks stop. Chai

" a stud

eller?" so

," another

alked right into my foot." His grin flickers

ur leg out!"

n, Tinsley,"

um is cold through my jeans

oor. The sauce pools around my palms. Thin br

do that?" so

" another wh

neck. I stare at

n the wood, slow. He loo

ish," he asks, "or is

I can clean your suit. I ca

on

the table

catches behi

ale Rorvik shoulders throu

cus?" Rorvik bark

auce, then at my

suit. You don't have e

shifts. I'll pay

." He points a gloved finger. "Marlon Gibbs fits

s, students filming from the bleachers.

, Co

appoint me

rches

t her table. "Coach

o anything!

," Rorvik says without turni

napkins. They dissolve in my wet hands. T

with shaking fingers a

e it to professional cleaner

touchi

g to fix t

aid

cuts through the fryer grease. His skin burns agai

of my

ck, and his fingers stay put. My

s goes

st, and his free hand flattens against his s

t," he

mpossible

t seem to

alls in perfect waves. Gardenia hits first, then

hat's happe

," Marti

ila tells a worker, not

one, Lila," T

our bus

me. "She doesn't bel

rs pressed. I forget to answer

back. His palm presses his sternum again,

e are you goin

eed

ose behind him. The ca

led coffee with my

•

s both palms against the cinderblock, an

aws loud aga

bone. Something pulls him back toward the doo

ost and crushed leaves linger faint. Something o

ath of it. He tu

cafeteria doors, jaw working.

to the emp

ga