Chapter 11
chapter
eleven
I hate it here.
The yellow cabinets. The pink bookshelves. The fat orange cat who seems to be under the mistaken apprehension that I’m friendly.
All the evidence that Bridget has been here, happy all along, puts a deep, painful burn in my gut.
Or maybe that’s her scent. Sharp lemon zest and sweet sugarcane tingle in my lungs on every reluctant inhale. Singeing my insides until my blood feels like it will roll into a boil.
She didn’t smell like this the first time we met. It was more nuanced and subtle… then, when she was embarrassed, sharper. Remembering my reaction to all of it sets my teeth on edge. I ball my fists until my blunt fingernails nearly pierce my palms.
Look at this stupid orange cat.
Only happy people have cats like this.
Is it too much to ask that the person who destroyed my faith in humanity be at least half as miserable as I am?
I really don’t think so.
Over the year, we’ve spent more time with our apartment building’s doorman than we have with Bridget, but her expression is still all too familiar. Pursed lips, narrowed blue eyes—the same face she wore in her sister’s living room the last time we were forced into a fucked-up pack meeting.
Just like that day, it’s clear she wants nothing more than to get away from us as quickly as possible.
Honestly?
Relatable .
Her mind moves fast. I remember realizing that when I watched her snap our deal together last year. She didn’t stand around asking dumb questions or acting affronted.
It’s the same, now. She doesn’t stammer denials or whine about being left out of the loop. Instead, she turns her face from Jesse to Dante and back again.
Avoiding me.
Because, like I said, the woman is smart .
“Then I assume he knows the truth,” she sniffs, lifting her chin to a regal angle as she stares my blond packmate down. “All of it?”
Jesse’s face is going to get stuck that way, I swear. His mouth pulls into a wider cringe. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Bee. I know we had a confidentiality clause in the contract.”
Bridget rolls her lips together, crossing her arms under her chest and looking down at her pink shoes and purple-polished toes.
“Well, someone must have broken it. We were the only people who knew, aside from Alicia, and I’ve already gotten a dozen calls from her, screeching about this bullshit ‘sullying the family name,’ so. ”
Her meaning is clear. Alicia is a bitch, but she had a stake in the secrecy of this arrangement, too. Now we all look like idiots.
“ I never wanted to do this,” Dante points out, drumming his fingers along the back of Bridget’s couch. “I said this plan was fucking crazy, but Jesse ?—”
My anger flashes, rising high and hot, red tinting my vision. “ Jesse isn’t the one who bought the damn ring, and he definitely isn’t the asshole who drives over here all the time like a stalker.”
A beat of disbelief passes over my packmate’s square face—because… yeah, I went there. Then Dante’s eyes glint. “No, Jesse is the one who calls her every goddamn week like a total simp.”
“I was checking in ,” Jesse interjects. “You guys know it was never like that!”
Dante chuffs. “Yeah, sure. Okay. Are we also supposed to believe you didn’t want to get in her pants when you dragged us to her sister’s house and came up with this insane plan?”
Jesse’s jaw drops. A growl trips up my throat. Adrian barks a low, “ That’s enough ,” just as Bridget scoffs, “I’m literally sitting right here .”
The two turn to look at each other, Adrian’s gaze assessing, and Bridget’s full of fire. She’s really perfected that what-are-you-looking-at preen, but I can’t let myself give her a compliment, even in my own mind.
Adrian’s eyes land on hers. His mouth curves up at one corner, but his amusement only softens her for half a second before she huffs again, snapping her spine straight.
“Does it even matter whose fault this is? You guys came to me; I agreed. We all signed the damn agreement, so we’re all to blame for our agreement,” she argues. “But I held up my end of things, and you guys clearly didn’t.”
Being lumped in with the others chafes. In a lot of ways, I’m not truly one of them anymore. I can’t play on the Kings this season. I can’t do our workouts. Right now, I can’t even drive.
On the other hand, I’m sick of being blamed for their bullshit.
If there’s one thing I can do it’s keep a secret.
All the partying and women and financial fuck-ups over the years…
I never flaunted my flaws, but I was part of the group.
So my name and career came under just as much scrutiny when the guys did.
Now we’ve done the same thing to Bridget.
I refuse to feel bad for her, but still.
I get it.
Adrian sighs, nodding his empathy. “You’re right, Bridget. I’ve reviewed the deal you all made and looked over all the accounts. You’ve more than held up your end of the agreement. I’m sorry my pack didn’t live up to theirs.”
Dante mutters something that sounds like “we didn’t do shit,” but Adrian cuts him off with half a glance.
Fuck. The guy can really whip that dominance around.
He continues, looking into Bridget’s eyes. “We’ll make sure the dissolution of the contract is more-than fair if that’s what you want, omega...”
But Bridget Woods—damn her—tosses her auburn hair back and snaps a laugh.
“Oh no ,” she argues. “You guys aren’t breaking the contract and leaving me to take the fall.
You think I don’t know how this will go?
You’ll all go back to being Eligible Bachelors, and I’ll be the Faux-ancée for all eternity.
Nope. You’re going to fix this mess you made, and then you’re going to leave me the hell alone. ”
Jesse’s gone pale, staring at her profile as he repeats, “Fix it? How?”
I swear some of the steel melts out of her irises as she turns to Jesse. Her rounded shoulders drop at the same moment her lips turn down in a plump, pensive frown.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, like she’s only admitting the words to him.
Jesse’s grimace cracks into an expression of pure, true pain. But Adrian stands, his bearing full of the sort of alpha power that gets shit done.
Which is why everyone’s already staring at him when he nods brusquely. “I do.”