Chapter 14 Naomi
Chapter fourteen
Naomi
By the time evening rolls around, my legs feel like Jell-O.
Three hours on the ice with professional hockey players will do that to a girl, even without running their drills myself. We all hit our respective showers after practice, and for a few blessed minutes it was hot water, sore muscles, and blissful silence.
Now it’s boredom.
Silas is aggressively clicking through TV channels. Static. Static. A cooking show in what might be Portuguese. Static. He finally tosses the remote onto the cushion next to him with a low curse.
Liam is “reading” on the armchair, but I’m ninety percent sure he’s been on the same page for ten minutes. Felix has moved the coffee table to the side, and he's now stretching out on the rug in front of the fire, one arm over his face.
“I’m dying,” he announces to the ceiling. “This is how it ends. Not in glory on the ice, but from terminal boredom in my own living room."
“You literally have a PlayStation right there,” Silas says, pointing.
“But the power can flicker. I’m not risking my save file for—” Felix bolts upright, eyes lighting up. “I’ve got it. Truth or dare.”
“No,” Silas and I say at the exact same time. We both blink.
“At least you have some sense,” he says, looking almost… approving.
“Fine, you joy-killers,” Felix huffs, already heading for a cabinet near the island. “We’ll do Never Have I Ever. It's a very respectable adult game, and it's excellent for team building.”
“Tell me you're not pulling out the good whiskey for—” Silas starts.
But the cabinet's already open. Bottles clink. Felix turns with something amber and suspiciously expensive. “Too late. Democracy has spoken.”
"Should I be concerned you have a democracy of one?" I ask.
"Ha, funny!" Felix says cheerfully, lining up four glasses and pouring generous measures. "See? This is fun!" He pauses before the last glass, glancing at me. "Naomi?"
I should absolutely not be playing drinking games with the three alphas I’m supposed to negotiate with.
But on the other hand, I’m snowed in, my phone has no signal, and I watched them argue for twenty minutes about whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie earlier.
I'm desperate for any distraction at this point.
“Okay, sure,” I say. “What the hell.”
After all, what could go wrong.
“Famous last words,” Liam murmurs, looking quietly amused, and I wonder if he just read my mind…
We settle in a loose circle on the rug. My knees end up near Felix’s and Liam's, and Silas sits opposite me.
“I’ll start,” Felix says, lifting his glass. “Never have I ever… gotten stuck taking off my shirt.”
All three of them drink.
“Really, Naomi?” he says, incredulous. “Never?”
“What can I say.” I sip my untouched drink with a smug little shrug. “I’m agile. Like a cat.”
Silas snorts. "Okay then, kitty. My turn. Never have I ever… lost a case."
“Ouch,” Felix mutters.
I drink. Heat crawls up my neck at the memory of that one, spectacular disaster. Silas’s mouth spreads into a slow, satisfied smirk.
“Oh, really, New York?” he drawls. “And here I thought you were the perfect little enforcer of corporate justice.”
“It happened once,” I grit out. “I was twenty-three and dangerously optimistic. Anyway, my turn,” I add before he can pile on. “Never have I ever… scored on my own net.”
Silas holds my gaze. His jaw flexes. Then he grunts and takes a drink.
“Had a feeling,” I say, unable to stop my grin. “What’s the story, captain? Couldn’t control your own stick?”
His hand tightens around the glass. “Like you, it happened once,” he says flatly. Then his mouth crooks, just a little. “Since that day, I’ve been very… disciplined about stick control.”
And he actually winks.
Did he seriously just wink while saying that?
“While we all appreciate the innuendo,” Liam says dryly. “I seem to recall it happening again in practice last month. Remember? With the whole team.”
“Yeah, man. And at least six times if we count college,” Felix adds.
Silas glares at both of them. “Whose side are you on?”
“The side of factual accuracy,” Felix says. “You know, for the integrity of the game.”
“I’m surrounded by traitors,” Silas mutters.
“Moving on,” Liam says smoothly, eyes glinting as they shift to me. “Never have I ever… sung ‘Defying Gravity’ in the shower of this very chalet.”
My cheeks go hot. “How the hell—”
"Alpha hearing," he reminds me, the corner of his mouth lifting. "And I was in the living room having tea right before my shower. Sound carries from you room to here."
I sigh and drink. So does Felix.
“What?” he says when I look at him. “Don’t pretend you haven’t heard my legendary rendition over the last three days.”
Liam lifts his glass. “I did and have regretted every second.”
“My rendition is legendary,” Felix protests, looking at me. “My pack mates have always been jealous of my tenor. Here—"
“My turn,” Silas cuts in before Felix can start. He lifts his glass, eyes on me. "Never have I ever... raided someone's pantry at two in the morning."
I narrow my eyes. “Aren't you tired of targeting the snowed-in lawyer?"
His answer is a smirk.
"Fine." I tip my glass toward him. "Never have I ever... been argued into doing inventory against my will."
His mouth twitches. We hold eye contact.
After a second, I can't help the smug little smile that creeps across my face as he drinks. Ha. That's what you get.
Felix wipes imaginary sweat off his forehead. “Okay, okay, my turn before the unresolved tension kills us all,” he says. “Never have I ever… believed in love at first sight.”
He takes a tiny sip.
No one else moves.
“You’re all liars,” he complains.
I look down into my drink instead of his face. “What’s with the sudden mood whiplash?” I ask lightly.
He shrugs. “I’m merely trying to restore some harmony to the conversation.”
“Right,” I say. “Well, if you don't mind, I'll bring things back to basics. Never have I ever… eaten an entire pizza by myself.”
All four of us drink.
“What I’d give for a pizza right now,” Liam says, wistful.
“That would be the ultimate act of self-care,” I agree.
After that the questions get dumber. Never have I ever cried during a Disney movie (I drink, Felix drinks, Liam drinks; Silas does not, but he looks suspiciously misty when Felix mentions Mufasa). Never have I ever googled my own name (Felix drinks three times).
“Alright, don’t get mad but,” Felix says, swirling the liquor in his glass. “Never have I ever… taken scent blockers.”
The energy shifts and all three of them look at me.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not some dark secret, you know.”
I drink.
“Yes,” I add since everyone seems to be waiting for an answer. “I take DuoBlocks. Yes, it’s for work. No, it’s not a big deal.”
“I know it’s common,” Liam says, brow furrowing, “but isn’t that rough on you?”
"Maybe," I say. "But have you ever tried running a negotiation when an alpha's deliberately crowding your space? Last month opposing counsel spent an entire deposition standing too close to my table, but not quite enough to formally complain about. I wanted to stab him with my pen."
Felix makes a face. “Gross.”
“Exactly. So now I take the pills, and I smell like lukewarm tap water to everyone.” I shrug. “Neutral. Invisible. Very efficient.”
“That’s fucked up,” Silas says.
There’s real anger there. Enough that I blink.
“Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t have to medicate yourself just to go to work without being harassed,” he says, jaw tight. “That’s not on you. That’s on them.”
Heat pricks the back of my neck at his sudden protectiveness. He notices my expression and looks away, clearing his throat. “I mean. It’s unprofessional. Of them. It’s weak.”
"Silas has feelings," Felix stage-whispers.
"I will put snow in your bed," Silas threatens.
I take another sip, focusing on the burn of whiskey instead of the heat suddenly pooling low in my stomach. And I absolutely do not say out loud that I'm grateful for DuoBlocks right now…
Because without them, I'm pretty sure I'd be much more "distracted" by three very attractive alphas I’m currently snowed in with.
* * *
Two hours and a few too many rounds later, we’ve graduated to coffee.
I mean, “graduated” is generous as we keep "Irish-ing" our drinks with splashes from the whiskey bottle.
I’m tucked into one corner of the couch. Felix has somehow ended up beside me. Liam's in the armchair across from us, and Silas is on the end of the couch, one ankle propped on his knee. Guess we’ve loosened up around each other…
I’m halfway through a sip when a thought hits me.
“So, random question,” I say. “The clothes I'm wearing, the ones in the room. Whose are they?”
Three sets of eyes snap to me. Something in Felix’s face shutters. The easy smile he’s been wearing all night slips.
“Our ex's,” he breathes.
“Oh.” My stomach dips. For a second I picture the blacked-out face in that photo. I want to ask, but it's probably better I don’t. “I… see.”
“We were supposed to donate them,” Liam adds, fingers tightening around his mug. “We just haven't gotten around to it yet.”
Silas looks like he wants to say something and swallows it instead, staring into his coffee.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “Didn't mean to kill the vibe—”
“It’s fine,” Felix says quickly. “It's only clothes, and you look—” He stops himself, clears his throat. “They’re being put to use. That’s good.”
My chest pinches.
“Okay,” I say softly. “But just in case it's weird for you, just say the word and seriously, tell me and I’ll wear my one outfit."
That earns me a faint huff from Silas. “Not sure you'd be comfortable sleeping in that,” he mutters.
The silence that follows is different. Not awkward, just… loaded?
“So,” Felix says after a beat, purposefully light. “Anybody special out there panicking because you’re snowed in on a mountain? Some poor alpha, beta, or omega pacing your fancy apartment?”
I snort into my mug. The coffee is definitely more liquor than anything by now. “No. I retired from the ‘special someone’ industry.”