Beg Me Like You Mean It, Captain

After hours of driving, the bus finally groaned to a halt, the air brakes hissing like a tired beast.

The silence that followed was brief, immediately shattered by the collective groan of twenty professional athletes unfolding their limbs after a four-hour haul.

"Finally," someone shouted from the back. "My glutes are officially part of the upholstery."

That was Russo, our lead enforcer. He stood up, stretching his massive arms until they hit the luggage racks, his jersey riding up to show a sliver of scarred skin. Beside him, Miller was yawning so wide I could practically see his tonsils, his heavy Alpha scent—damp earth and cedar—thickening in the stale air of the bus.

I stood up, adjusting my beanie over my brown hair.

"Alright, let’s move!" I called out, my voice carrying that steady, supportive weight I’d perfected. "Grab your bags. The faster we get to the lodge, the faster we get to eat."

"You’re an angel, Cap," Russo grunted, throwing a heavy arm over my shoulder as we shuffled toward the exit. He leaned his weight into me, a casual display of masculine camaraderie that nearly sent me into a literal tailspin.

His scent was heavy and warm, and it hit me with quite a force. My insides didn’t just scream; they threw a tantrum. My Omega instinct was practically vibrating, cataloging the sheer sturdy reality of the Alphas surrounding me. T

These were elite athletes, specimens of raw power, and I was currently the only ’flower’ in a very dense and very aggressive ’forest’.

’Stay calm. You are a Beta. You are just one of the guys.’

"You okay, Kain?" Russo asked, looking down at me. "You’re looking a little flushed. The altitude hitting you already?"

I offered him an easy, understanding smile. "Just haven’t had enough coffee yet, Russo. Go on, get your bag before Miller eats it."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that I felt in my own ribs, and finally released me, moving toward the door as he yelled for Miller to unhand his bag.

I took in a shaky breath, my hand instinctively checking the pocket of my bag where my blockers were tucked away.

"Move it, Evans. Some of us actually want to get off this tin can."

The voice was like a bucket of ice water. Reid McCoy was standing in the aisle behind me with his arms crossed, his grey eyes narrowed in that habitual expression of snobbish boredom.

He looked like he’d spent the last four hours judging everyone’s posture, especially mine.

"Patience is a virtue, McCoy," I said, keeping my tone light as I stepped into the aisle. "Besides, you got the window seat. I thought you liked the view."

Reid’s jaw tightened. He’d spent the whole ride staring at my reflection in that glass, and I knew it. "The view was boring," he snapped, pushing past me. He didn’t just walk; he carved a path through the team, his sheer physical presence making even the larger Alphas step aside.

I followed him out into the biting Lake Placid air. The team was scattered across the snow, a chaotic mess of yawning, stretching men.

"Cap! Tell Miller he can’t have the top bunk!" Russo complained, and then someone yelled,

"Evans! Where’s the coffee? I’m dying over here!"

I moved through them, patting shoulders, nodding at complaints, playing the role of the ’Empathetic Captain’ while my brain was a chaotic mess of "Too much Alpha. Too much forest."

Every touch, every loud laugh, every display of casual strength from the team was another brick being pulled from my wall.

But I did my best not to let my wall collapse under any circumstances.

But then, as if the universe was mocking me, it sent a wrecking ball to come test the stability of my wall.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Reid’s voice growled right next to my ear.

I skimmed through the room assignments to see what he was on about, and then I saw it.

Cabin 4: Evans / McCoy

Ah, the worst kind of wrecking ball.

Reid stood behind me, hissing under his breath in annoyance. He was so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his chest through his heavy jacket. My internal Omega didn’t just swoon; it checked out of reality entirely. ’He’s so hot,’ it whispered. ’So young. So powerful. He’ll definitely have a strong grip if he holds my hips, right?’

I turned, maintaining a straight face despite the fact that my heart was trying to exit through my throat. "It looks like we’re roommates, McCoy. Try not to be too disappointed. I don’t snore."

Reid looked down at me, his nostrils flaring. He looked frustrated—like a predator who knew there was something hidden in the bush but couldn’t quite find the trail.

"I’m not here to make friends, Evans," he said, leaning in just enough to be intimidating.

Standing before him, without the padding of my hockey gear on, I looked more like a kid than he was. He was more masculine, taller, and could loom over me without even trying. And I was... small, fragile, and a piece of flesh that could melt if I brushed even slightly against his hot skin.

"And I’m definitely not here to play ’understanding’ games with a Captain who’s too soft for the league." Reid snorted. "Stay on your side of the room."

He snatched his keys from the hook and stomped off toward the cabins, his boots crunching loudly in the snow.

I watched him go, my grip tightening on my bag. I was the Captain. I was the leader. I was the one who understood everyone. But as I looked at that sturdy, arrogant Alpha walking away, I realized that for the first time in my career, I didn’t understand myself at all.

The cabin didn’t have that ’mountain getaway’ charm the brochure promised. Instead, it smelled like stale floor wax and the faint, lingering scent of sweaty socks from whichever team had been here last week. It was cramped, and currently being overtaken by twenty-one years of pure Alpha arrogance.

Reid moved in as if he were staging an invasion.

By the time I walked in, his massive gear bag was sprawled across the floor like a dead weight. His skates were tossed carelessly near the heater, and he’d already claimed the bed by the window, sprawled out on the quilt with his phone held high.

I stood in the doorway, my bag clutched to my chest. My internal Omega was doing that pathetic little flip again. He was just so ’sturdy’. His thighs took up half the mattress, and his presence felt like it was physically pushing me against the walls of the room.

You know, like a romantic pin where he talks over my skin and his breath caresses me, making every hair on my body stand.

I forced a straight face, my ’understanding captain’ mask firmly in place. "You’re making yourself right at home, I see."

Reid didn’t even look at me. "It’s a room, Evans. I’m not here to decorate. Just stay on your side and don’t touch my stuff."

I walked over to the other bed, the one tucked in the dark corner. "We’re supposed to keep the floor clear, Reid. If one of us trips over your pads in the dark, it’s a twisted ankle. That’s a stupid way to end a season."

Reid finally looked at me, his grey eyes cool and dismissive. "There you go again. ’The team.’ ’Safety.’ You sound like a worried mom, not a pro captain. No wonder the locker room is so quiet. You’ve got everyone too bored to even pick a fight."

He stood up then, and the air in the cabin shifted instantly.

When he was lying down, he was a nuisance. Standing up, he was a problem. His pheromones were hitting me in waves—heavy, aggressive, and undeniably Alpha. My brain short-circuited, and I knew I had to lock my knees to keep from leaning toward that heat.

’Stay focused, Kain. He’s a brat.’

He walked toward me, not stopping until he was well within my space. I could feel the warmth radiating off him.

"You know what I think?" Reid murmured, leaning down until we were eye-to-eye. "I think it’s because you’re a Beta that you’re too scared to be anything else. You’re neutral. You’re safe. You’re... nothing."

My heart hammered frantically against my ribs, but I kept my expression flat. I couldn’t let him see how much his pheromones were rattling me. "I lead with understanding because it works, Reid," I said. "We don’t need more egos. We need someone who listens."

"Listening doesn’t win championships," Reid snapped. He reached out, his hand brushing my shoulder as he shoved past me to grab a water bottle.

The contact was brief, but it felt like a jolt of electricity through my system. I turned, watching him take a long, aggressive drink, his throat moving as he swallowed, and I felt myself swallow as well.

"If you want to play the hero, do it on the ice tomorrow," I said, my patience finally thinning. "In here, you’re a roommate. So, pick up your gear from the floor."

Reid let out a short, sharp laugh. He didn’t pick up the gear. Instead, he kicked his heavy bag further into the middle of the room, right in my path.

"Make me, Captain," he challenged.

He turned his back on me and flopped back onto his bed, leaving me standing in the middle of his mess. I stared at him, feeling a heavy annoyance rise in me.

The war had started. And I was already losing my grip.