Chapter 55
FIFTY-FIVE
The guys from Alpha Xi rally in front of the TV, waiting anxiously for the draft to start. I’m not much of a sports guy, but seeing so many people assemble to support Atlas while he waits to hear if he’s been drafted is inspiring.
However, they won’t stop talking about the last championship game that Bensen lost. They had made it to the Conference Finals, but fell just short in the last period.
Despite that, the entire team is ecstatic, and they are hopeful that it was a good enough season to get Atlas noticed.
Thatcher was even a ball of sunshine through the entire championship run.
Although, I’m not sure how much of that was hockey.
He still seems to be in the honeymoon phase of bonding, which I don’t mind in the slightest. I see him across the room, drinking a beer and chatting with Sam with their usual serious expressions.
When he sees me, he grins, and it causes my own to tilt up in amusement.
See? He’s just a big cinnamon roll.
“I’m so happy for them,” Rory says, looking at the screen.
Pack Pearson set off on a road trip to be at the draft in person, so Dax is taking a lot of footage of everyone here at Alpha Xi.
He’s really taken it upon himself to document the party thrown in Atlas’s honor.
He’s already made a few rounds with his video camera, and I guarantee he’ll be coming around again when the draft starts, and we finally find out whether or not he will play professionally next season.
“Me too.” Opal grins. “Stacia finished her book, didn’t she?”
“Yes!” Rory exclaims excitedly. “She sent it to her editor last week. She’s so glad to finally have a break for a while.”
“I don’t blame her, she’s been perfecting it for like a year now,” my scent match adds.
“She deserves a break, for sure. For a few months at least.”
“How are you spending your summer, Rory?” I ask her, hopping into the conversation.
“That production of Cats needed more tech crew members, so I signed on. Good thing, too, since Jett’s callback audition did well.”
“Oh, that’s awesome!” Opal exclaims. “What role did he get?”
“He got the lead, Rum Tum Tugger.”
My omega snorts. “Rum Tum Tugger.”
I hide my smile behind my hand, but Rory isn’t deterred and just laughs with her. “I know, but apparently he has to sing! I had no idea he knew how to sing,” she whispers conspiratorially. “He’s really good. Like I needed any more reason to want to tear his clothes off.”
A laugh escapes me just as our alphas come to sit beside us. Everett and Jett find us a second later, the omega circle officially over as we settle in with our drinks.
“Should we be nervous?” I ask them. “I don’t know much about hockey. What are his odds?”
“I’m in the same boat as you, unfortunately,” Sam answers as he puts his arm around my shoulder.
“He’ll get picked,” Thatcher says confidently.
Everett adds. “He’s been looked at by different teams since last year. If he doesn’t get picked, then there’s a conspiracy.”
“A conspiracy?” Dax asks when he comes back into the room, his camera still in his hand. “I love a conspiracy, tell me.”
Jett snorts. “Stop pointing that thing at me.”
“Jettson, sir, you’re going to have to get used to it if your career plan pans out,” he responds.
“My name isn’t Jettson.”
“Yeah, and my name isn’t Daxter,” he huffs out, trying to make a point.
Opal and I look at each other, our eyes wide, before we turn back to him. “You mean… like the video game?”
The blond alpha looks at us in shock. “How the hell did you know that?”
Rory laughs. “They’re video game nerds, Dax. They’ve heard of everything.”
“Wait, is it really your name?” Opal asks. “I thought you two were just bantering.”
Jett’s teasing grin grows. “He keeps calling me Jettson because I won’t stop calling him by his full name.”
He groans as he sits down beside his pack mates. “My mother should have never told you.”
“I loved that game!” I freak out. “It was one of my favorites. Holy shit, is one of your parents a fan?”
He only nods, still looking miserable about his full name being discovered.
“I wish I had been named after a video game character,” Opal says.
Rory scoffs. “You have the prettiest name. It’s literally a gemstone.”
“Yeah, at least your name doesn’t mean ‘baby mink,’” I tell her, which makes her laugh.
“You kind of look like a mink,” Dax says.
Everyone laughs, including myself, but I still narrow my eyes at him playfully. “Shut up, Daxter.”
Before the teasing can continue, the draft starts, and everyone mingling quiets down to pay attention. Dax gets his camera ready as they start the round picks, going through the first one with ease as the more known teams pick their new members.
“How many rounds are there?” I ask Opal.
“Fuck, I don’t know. There can’t be more than ten, right?”
“There are seven,” Sam informs us before he goes back to watching silently.
“That still feels like a lot for this pace,” I comment.
“How did we end up surrounded by so many athletes?”
“Beats me. It’s kind of hilarious, though.”
When the third round starts, I get a bit anxious.
What if he doesn’t get picked? Will we all leave Alpha Xi in a solemn mood?
Will Pack Pearson be okay? I’ve never had these thoughts before, where our friends could be let down in such a major way.
I wasn’t ready for this when I met my pack, didn’t understand how interconnected our group would be.
I felt like this was a silly party when we first got here, but now it feels serious as we wait, when Atlas’ name might not be called at all.
As soon as my thoughts start spiraling, the announcer steps up to announce the next pick. Something in my stomach twists, and I grab onto Opal’s hands, my instincts going haywire in my chest. My heart pumps wildly as he talks into the microphone.
“—the fourth pick in the third round of the draft, the Washington Capitals select… from Bensen, Massachusetts, Atlas Pearson!”
There’s a rush of energy as we all stand up, rational thinking and logic leaving us as we all scream at the top of our lungs.
The screen shows Pack Pearson as Atlas stands up and turns to Stacia, giving her a kiss that’s full of relief and love.
We can see Ciro jumping up and down, Kendall and Uriah poking out beside him to pat him on the back.
And then he’s walking down to the stage to get his jersey as an official member of a professional hockey team.
My heart is still pumping, and everyone around us is ecstatic as they jump around, hugging each other.
The frat members start to do some weird, guy chant that actually makes me smile.
Someone shoots off a mini cannon of confetti—that Sam rolls his eyes at because he’ll definitely have to clean it later—and it hits me then that I am so glad I had an affinity for picnics in the quad, or I would have never met the loves of my life or this group of people.
A foundation so full of endless devotion and support.
I kiss Opal, needing to release the emotion flowing inside of me, and she lets me pull her all the way in.
And it’s the best feeling in the world, to be completely, utterly, and finally hers.