Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Silas
The Seattle Havoc are supposed to be blowing off steam.
Juliet arranged for us to rent out this retro bowling alley with sticky lanes, neon lights flickering overhead, and pitchers of cheap beer making the rounds.
The women have claimed lanes on one end.
The guys roughhouse and trash talk on the other.
I sit with my arms crossed, nursing one warm beer, counting down the minutes until I can leave without looking antisocial.
I can’t wait to be out of here.
Scout's at the far end with Juliet, Jessa, Wren, and Mollie.
Her dark blonde curls are pulled up in two pigtails that make her look younger than she is.
The custom bowling shirt fits her perfectly, black fabric hugging her curves, silver lettering catching the neon lights.
Those green eyes sparkle with genuine happiness as Jessa pulls out the shirts.
Pink yoga pants hug her legs, showing off her shape in a way that makes my mouth go dry.
Watching her clutch the shirt to her chest, I can see the emotion flooding her face.
Beautiful doesn't begin to cover it.
Jessa just pulled out custom bowling shirts for what she keeps calling the Coven, apparently their name for the women that work for The Havoc.
But my eyes follow only one person. As I watch, Scout gets visibly emotional over her bowling shirt.
She clutches the black shirt with silver lettering to her chest like it's something precious.
"I'm so grateful. You ladies have been so welcoming.” Her voice carries across the lanes. "I was so lonely after the divorce. But you have made me feel like I’m a part of a team."
Her words tug at my heart. Hearing her say that she was lonely feels like pouring acid on an open wound.
“Oh, girl.” Juliet pulls her into a hug. Jessa beams like a proud mother hen. Mollie looks on, smiling at Scout's reaction.
Something twists in my chest watching her. She's so desperate to be included. So grateful for basic kindness. It makes me want to find Enzo and break his jaw for making her feel like she had to earn acceptance.
She’s amazing and beautiful. And Enzo is fucking scum.
Their game finishes around the same time ours does, so we meet in the middle of the alley, taking up several tables.
Hunter sits down and pulls Juliet onto his lap.
She turns to him and whispers something in his ear.
He obviously likes whatever secret she has, because his pleased murmur rumbles from his chest as he rubs a circle in her back.
A part of me wonders if I'll ever be lucky enough to have a relationship like theirs. Sure, it started out a lie. Two people fake engaged, pretending that they were in love. But soon enough, it became apparent that their feelings weren’t fake.
My eyes travel over to Scout. She’s wearing her custom bowling shirt with a pair of pink yoga pants.
My breath hitches when I see her lean over to pick up a pile of napkins from the floor.
The thin material of her yoga pants stretches, becoming ever so slightly see-through.
And I’m not the only one who notices. My brother Jett looks on, sipping his beer.
And Thorne bites his lip as he gazes at her, his expression a little dreamy.
Like fuck I’d let Thorne hook up with Scout. He’s a huge playboy, different girl every night of the week. Definitely not down for any kind of commitment. If he acted on his obvious desire to take Scout home, he’d leave her crushed.
Luckily, after a few seconds, he blinks and looks away, responding with a laugh to something Tate said. Note to self: tell Thorne to keep his dick in his goddamn pants for once.
I watch Scout slip into caretaker mode without even realizing she's doing it.
Making sure everyone's beers stay topped up.
Ordering more nachos when plates run low.
Juliet jumps up and fusses with the lane settings for the next game.
When she makes a frustrated noise, Scout steps in and smoothly corrects it for her. They beam at each other.
Scout’s a helper at heart. A sunshine-filled goddess.
A few minutes later, I empty my cup. Scout appears at my elbow, offering me a cold bottle of the non-alcoholic beer I prefer. She remembered. Of course she did. Scout remembers everything about everyone.
I don’t even think they have this beer at the bowling alley.
“Thanks,” I say. “You always know just what I need.”
“You’re welcome, Si.” Scout’s cheeks flare with pink, her blonde curls arranged in pigtails.
Ugh, that nickname does things to me. It’s a sign of closeness, one I shouldn’t allow. But it warms my chest to hear it.
“Hey.” Juliet leans close to Scout during a lull, voice pitched low.
I catch her words anyway, because I’m a fucking creep who’s attuned to everything Scout.
Juliet touches Scout’s arm. "Don't burn yourself out taking care of everyone.
You're allowed to just exist here, you know. Without being useful."
My jaw tightens. Scout burning herself out? Of course she is. She's always smiling, always fetching, always fixing things for other people. Making herself indispensable so people won't leave her. I sip my beer, washing down the bitterness in my throat with the brew.
The next hour, I refuse Scout’s help three separate times.
She tries to grab me a fresh beer. "I'm good."
She offers to get me food from the counter. "Sit down, Scout."
She starts to adjust my lane settings. "I can handle it myself."
Each time she looks confused. A little hurt. But she listens, settling back in her seat by the women instead of hovering over me.
I tell myself I'm helping her. She doesn't have to work for acceptance and I need her to see that. But really I just feel like an asshole, because watching her take care of everyone makes me want things I can't have.
I shouldn’t want Scout Nash. I shouldn’t feel this bone-deep longing for her smiles and her adorable blushes. She’s my agent’s ex and my roommate. Oh, and she works for the Havoc. Like I could forget that little nugget of information.
I should know better than to dip my pen in the company ink. But I can’t stop staring at Scout, who is all rainbows and sunshine on the cloudiest day.
Though I know better than this, I move closer, finding a seat that allows me better access to the girls’ conversation.
Mollie bowls a gutter ball and laughs at herself.
But my eyes are stuck on the curve of Scout’s hips.
The way she moves is so graceful. Now that I’ve done yoga with her, I see where she gets it from.
Scout moves quickly toward the lane, carrying her bowling ball, and knocks down seven pins.
She spins, beaming with pride like she won a whole tournament.
My pulse jumps before I can stop it. Fuck, she’s hot. The thought, unbidden, comes to the surface: the feeling of her beneath me as I kissed her, the way she tasted. Before I can stop that line of thinking, my cock stirs.
Yeah, not helpful. We’re in a bowling alley.
People call me Ice Man because I try not to react. I don’t let my emotions show. Everything is kept locked down tight where no one can see it.
Right now though, watching Scout laugh at something one of the women said, seeing her lean over to help Mollie with something, the ice is melting, big pieces shearing off, dripping away into nothing.
Then Theo Kozlov appears.
Tall, dishwater blond hair, stupidly handsome in a seedy way that women probably love. He’s young, too young for her, but that doesn’t seem to stop him. He slides into the seat next to Scout with an easy smile that makes my teeth grind.
Jealousy burns bright, the flame growing hot in my chest. I feel possessiveness claw at my throat. Apparently he’s forgotten my threat in light of Scout’s pretty smile.
Every instinct screams at me to walk over there and claim her in front of everyone. Mark her as mine so they all know she's off limits. The control I've built over years is splintering, fracturing, falling apart piece by piece.
"Hey, Scout. Didn't know you bowled."
"I don't. Not well, anyway." She laughs brightly. Something in my chest goes volcanic.
Kozlov leans closer, all charm and confidence. "You look great tonight. Love the shirt."
She actually blushes. Pink rises in her cheeks. "Thanks. The Coven made them. It was Jessa's idea."
"Well, she has excellent taste." His grin gets wider. "Listen, I was thinking that after this, we could go grab a drink?"
My fist curls around the beer bottle so hard I hear it creak. The urge to throw it at his head is overwhelming.
Scout hesitates, smile faltering. "Oh, Kozlov, that's really nice of you to ask, but..."
"Think about it," he says, standing before she can finish declining. "No pressure at all. Just let me know before you leave."
He walks away with that easy swagger, leaving Scout sitting there staring at her hands with that flush still staining her cheeks.
I'm moving before I consciously decide to move.
Crossing the lanes, shoulders squared, everything in me coils, tight and ready to snap.
I grab her elbow, tugging her away from the Coven.
"Let’s go home,” I grate out.
“Home?” She looks up, startled. "What? Why?"
“Because I want to.” I grit my teeth. "Now, Scout."
She puts a hand to my chest, peering up into my face. "Silas, what's wrong?"
"Just come with me." It comes out as more of a plea than I mean it to. I don't wait for her to argue. Instead, I lift her, grabbing her purse and coat. “Here.”
“Silas! Wait, I need my shoes.”
Gritting my teeth, I walk her up to the counter and impatiently wait as the teenager who works the shoe exchange gets to us. I’m on edge as we both shove our feet into our shoes. She slides me a look while she’s knotting her laces.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”