Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
Playing: Finally // beautiful stranger by Halsey
Jett interlaces our fingers as we enter the building, giving me some warmth against the bitter chill of Connecticut’s arena.
It feels like second-nature now, the way we always wrap our limbs together no matter where we are.
And I’ll never get tired of the way his scent blossoms whenever our skin is touching, how the decadent husky aroma covers me completely until I can’t see or smell anything else but him.
I’m finally letting myself have this. This complete take-over of my senses and my emotions, it’s not nearly as difficult as my traumatized mind made it out to seem.
If anything, our connection helps calm those thoughts.
It helps me realize that Stacia was right.
There are alphas who can be trusted, alphas that have no intention to use their designation for ownership and authority.
There are some that are sweet and loving, who want nothing more than to give their person everything. And I feel like that’s what I have after finally letting them in.
Stacia, Ciro, and Opal walk in front of us as we try to find our seats.
It’s nice to finally get to stretch our legs after sitting in the car for the past two hours.
With our group of five, there was a lot of show tune harmonizing and laughter that makes your throat dry.
And for once, Ciro isn’t carrying his flask because he’s been entrusted to drive Uriah’s car for the evening.
It doesn’t take us long to find seats because the section for Bensen is very empty. Jett never lets go of my hand as we get comfy.
Opal takes out a thermos of all things, with little watermelons painted all over it. It’s the cutest thing ever. “Opal, did you sneak in alcohol?” I whisper to her with a scandalous undertone.
She looks up at me and laughs. “ No . It’s hot chocolate!”
“And it’s still hot?” Stacia blurts out.
“To be honest, it’s finally the right temperature. This thermos might work a little too well,” Opal replies before taking a giant gulp.
I look down on the ice and see both teams warming up. I’ve been to a lot of hockey games with Stacia, but I’m still not prepared to see Everett going full throttle with his goalie stretches.
His massive thighs work overtime as he works on his range. The memory of him above me springs up immediately. I wonder if this is what he looked like when he was thrusting into me.
I get a whiff of cranberries and laugh under my breath. I’m sweating in a hockey arena.
Ciro’s words pull me out of my daydream. “Sam! Holy shit, what are you doing here? ”
Opal spits her hot chocolate all over the empty seats in front of us.
I turn and lo and behold, Sam and Kit are there, standing over us at the end of the aisle. I hold in the snort that wants to escape. Ciro is always unintentionally playing matchmaker at these hockey games.
“Two birds with one stone. Thatcher and Kit are both history buffs so we’re staying in a hotel tonight and then going to Mark Twain’s house tomorrow for a tour.”
Jett lets out an excited grunt that makes me laugh. He squints at me but smiles as he mumbles, “Shut up. That sounds cool as fuck.”
Ciro responds to Sam, but I notice Kit is looking over me to eye Opal, who is—once again—freaking out. She’s avoiding eye contact with everyone as she stares down at her thermos.
“I forget you haven’t met yet,” Stacia says, which pulls me out of my observation. “Sam, Kit, this is our best friend, Opal.”
Opal gives a bashful smile and a small wave. I desperately wish I could lend her a little bit of my acting skills, but let’s be honest. They didn’t really come in handy when it came to my own secrets. Everett figured me out right away.
“Yeah, she’s been living with me since last spring, but you guys keep missing each other,” I add on casually.
Opal looks at me for a half a second, giving me an expression that shows gratitude, before finally looking at them. “H-Hi.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Opal. Stacia talks about you all the time,” Sam says attentively. His smile is kind, but Kit’s is full of curiosity as he eyes my friend.
“Nice patch,” Kit comments, pointing at Opal’s jean jacket. I look over and see the animated face of some green-haired character that she is obsessed with. “Pre-timeskip Zoro is my favorite. ”
Opal looks down at the patch on her jacket and then looks up, her eyes wide. “Yeah, me too!” She cringes at the high pitch sound that comes out of her mouth, but Kit just smiles happily.
Honestly, the smile looks a bit flirty to me. Like the rest of us should disappear so they can continue to geek out over their favorite anime characters.
“Come down here, guys,” Ciro says, still completely unaware of the tension. “There’s a few seats next to me.”
Sam doesn’t seem to notice the energy as he starts to walk by us to get to Ciro. Jett’s legs are so long that he stands up and steps into the aisle to let them through. When Sam goes by, he has the most subdued green apple scent, but Kit’s is flourishing.
He makes his way in front of us, making eye contact with Opal again as she stands to give them more room (despite being the smallest of all of us).
Her nostrils flare, smelling his watermelon scent as it grows the closer he gets.
When he passes by her, he looks down at the paint on her thermos and smiles before following his alpha.
Oh. Watermelons . That’s trippy as fuck.
Opal sits back down and closes her eyes, like she’s trying to center herself. Luckily nobody notices her little conundrum but me, and I wait until she’s done self-soothing to catch her eye.
She gives me the slightest nod, indicating that she’s okay. When I slightly nudge my head down to Sam and Kit, I’m telepathically trying to ask her about the elephant I just witnessed stomp into the room.
Is he your scent match, too?
Her chin meets her chest as she hangs her head, giving me a small nod of confirmation.
Well, fuck. That’s an interesting addition.
Jett chooses that moment to squeeze my hand. I guess it’s kind of suspicious how quiet we’re being, so I give his hand a squeeze back and wave him off as if to say I’ll tell you later.
But I won’t be telling anyone about this later. This secret is Opal’s to tell, and I’ll hold it for her as long as she needs me to.
When the game starts moments later, I recognize the other team immediately.
The light blue and green combination on their uniforms make me feel sick.
It takes me back to all those months ago, when I shamefully watched them play against Bensen, alone and in my room.
All because I was in denial about how badly I wanted Dax and Everett.
The déjà vu is even more prevalent when one of the guys on the opposing team starts to heckle our defensemen. I see his number and remember him clearly from that past game, getting up into Dax’s face and spewing venom to goad him into a fight.
“Number five is going to be rough again tonight,” I say out loud because my omega is feeling unsettled by that guy being anywhere near our mates.
“Yeah, the last game against Connecticut was rough,” Stacia responds almost on autopilot, then her eyes cut to me fast. “Wait… you didn’t go to that game.”
The suspicion on her face makes me laugh. “Yeah, I may have, uh, watched that game on TV,” I confess. “It was after that awkward dinner.”
Jett lets out a laugh. “I don’t know why I was ever worried about you getting along with my pack.”
I flick him on the forehead.
The boys are doing well tonight despite the obvious aggression from the other team.
Just like last time, they band together and work within the rules, trying their best to power through any cheap shots taken by them.
They’re extra cautious of Everett because of the disrespectful way he was treated last time.
I have to relax my hand from its grip every time someone passes by him .
I’m not the only one affected, either. I notice with every questionable swing at the goal that could hurt Everett, Dax hits just a little bit harder.
It’s obvious that he’s less focused on assisting himself and more focused on preventing anyone from getting close to his pack mate.
The intensity in his posture might not be noticeable to anyone else, but it’s like a beacon to me.
Like my omega can sense her alpha is in distress.
“He’s doing okay,” Jett whispers to me as he offers me his hand again. When I take it and turn back, he winces. “Hey, go easy on my hand now. That’s my dominant hand.”
I release some of the pressure I’m putting on it. “Sorry,” I say, but I know he can see the anxiety in my eyes.
“Dax is handling himself wonderfully, there’s no need to worry—” he starts to say, but then Opal’s hand comes to my arm in a tight grip just before noise bursts out of the fuller audience on the other side of the arena. Someone near us yells out, “They didn’t flag the right person!”
“What happened?” I ask frantically, suddenly lost.
“Dax is fighting that guy!” Opal’s eyes are wide as she points to the ice.
I instantly stand up, looking down at the game that’s now in a timeout. I didn’t see how it started, but I see how it’s going. Dax swings at number five—who no longer has his helmet on—and the alpha falls to the ice.
I start to move to run down to him, but everything happens so fast. Thatcher and Uriah are there, trying to keep the other team from piling on, and Dax is pulled aside by their coach.
He spits venom at him, and I find myself snarling as I watch the exchange.
Dax is sent out of the arena and disappears before I can so much as blink.
“What happened? Where did he go?”
“Let me show you,” Stacia responds. “He might be out for misconduct. He should be back in the locker room. ”
Jett and I follow her and thank god, too. Even with her guiding us I am getting lost.
“How the hell did you know this was here?” I ask her and she chuckles.