Chapter 16 #2
“We knew you were ours at the charity event in Los Angeles,” Rhodes rumbles. “We’ve been all in for a while. We’re waiting for you to catch up to be perfectly honest. So we bought the house for you, our time table just moved up when your apartment flooded.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “So there’s not a secret family hidden somewhere? You two seem way too perfect to be true.”
“No secret family,” Skylar snorts. “How do you feel about kids?”
This entire conversation is completely surreal. Okay, Koen. This is what adulting is like. Suck it up and talk with your alphas.
It’s like when you have a really hot one night stand and you realize your life has been planned from it. Except instead, fate is guiding you around by the nose while you try to ignore it by being a dick and using a scent blocking cream.
Ugh, I’m such an idiot.
“I feel…positive about kids,” I squeak out. “What about our jobs?”
“We can get a really incredible traveling nanny who can be with us full time while we’re training and playing. People make it work all the time,” Skylar says. “With the money the three of us make, there’s no excuse for us not to be able to have everything we want.”
“That doesn’t mean we’ll let you pay for much,” Rhodes warns. “We’re stubborn like that.”
I wisely shove more food into my mouth so it’ll stay busy.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice what you just did,” Rhodes teases me. “I felt you wanting to say something.”
“This is a lot for someone who doesn’t discuss their feelings or well anything,” I admit.
“I’ll try not to call you out unless it’s something that’s making me insane,” Rhodes says. “I hate being hungry, and you didn’t eat anything today.”
“I tend to hyperfixate until nothing else exists except for what I’m doing. I’m a terrible omega, and everything I’ve ever done since presenting has evolved around hiding my designation,” I say honestly.
Glancing at my food distrustfully, I wonder if it’s possible to inject truth serum into it. Fuck, I’m being ridiculous.
“Why is that? Did something happen?” Skylar asks, his blue eyes threatening to stare into my soul.
“Like what?” I ask, confused.
“You don’t like the locker room,” Rhodes presses, and my stomach begins to hurt for an entirely different reason. “Sky and I keep wondering if something bad happened there.”
My anxiety is a huge asshole, but at least I’m done with my food. Now, to ensure I can make it through this conversation without puking. I’m not the type anymore to fuck and not have it mean something. It’s why I’ve practically become a priest outside of masturbating for the past year.
Meaningless sex got old quickly.
“Not everyone enjoys changing in front of other people,” I say, watching as Skylar fills a glass with water and ice. I was so hungry, I didn’t even notice I didn’t have anything to wash it down with.
“I’m going to ask, because it’s been making Rhodes and I crazy. Have you ever been assaulted before, Koen?” he asks, placing the glass carefully on the island. It’s as if he’s worried he might throw it instead, and I can feel his anger.
“What? No, I haven’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“The fear of it remains, though. It’s why I’m in and out as quickly as possible.
I’ve played with these guys for two years, I trust them as much as I trust anyone.
I know they have my back, but it’s hard to get this little voice to shut up in the back of my mind. ”
Instead of being condescending, Rhodes’ brows draw down as he leans against the island and waits.
“Whose voice?” Skylar growls. He sounds as if he’d like to kill the voice, which is something I’ve wanted to do for years.
Unfortunately, my brain is simply a dickhead inspired by a coach I had as a kid. I’m so glad the bond doesn’t seem to have mind reading involved or I’d be fucked.
“It’s something that grew from a conversation I had as a kid,” I hedge. “Now it’s become a paranoid asshole that fuels my anxiety.”
“What was the conversation about?” Skylar asks.
“And who was it with?” Rhodes adds.
Man, private space doesn’t exist for these two because they keep getting closer as they ask their very intense questions.
“My parents were all in when they found out I loved hockey,” I explain.
“If there was a clinic or camp they found, they’d pick up extra work so they could afford to send me.
My mother was a waitress up until I was in high school, and then she found a front desk job.
My dad also was promoted so things would be easier once I was in high school, but they didn’t get home until late.
I walked or took the bus whenever possible. ”
I’m killing time and it shows. Fuck. My alphas also know what I’m doing and their displeasure makes itself known in the form of growls. I can smell something burning and a sour scent of pineapple.
I’m in deep shit.
“You’re dragging your feet,” Rhodes grunts. “It’s also pissing Daddy off.”
“Dammit. I’m trying here,” I say, dragging my fingers through my hair.
I haven’t styled it in a few days, so I have a feeling it’s sticking up in all directions.
“When I was sixteen, I went to a hockey camp and it was incredible. I didn’t know my designation.
I was just a very determined kid in a sea of teens.
I was smaller than the other high schoolers though, so the coach made a point of calling me into his office. ”
“For what?” Skylar asks, confused. “To point out your smaller stature? All kids have to grow into their full potential. Height, strength, maturity all come with time. Designation can be a factor as well.”
“Well, that’s the reason he called me into his office,” I admit, blowing out a breath. “He told me he thought I was going to be an omega and I should quit.”
“He…quit? Your stats are insane,” Skylar says, his hand waving in the air angrily. “Other teams make a point to attack you on the ice because you’re a strong player. I don’t understand why he’d say this to a sixteen year old.”
“Coach Foster’s thought process was I would be an omega, and as such, an easy mark,” I say, leaning forward to rub my temples.
I’ve never spoken about this before.
Something icy is pulled over my scalp and face until I can’t see.
“Ummm?”
The eye part is pulled up and I suddenly can see again. The tight and icy hug around my head also helps and I realize it’s a migraine skull cap.
“This helps Skylar when he gets a migraine,” Rhodes says simply. “I could feel your head hurting.”
That’s going to take some time to get used to.
“Thank you, Rhodes. This is amazing.”
Rhodes nods before signaling for me to continue with a flip of his wrist. Ugh, I’m not getting out of this. At least the cold is helping to numb my mind of the clawing anxiety Coach Foster always makes me feel.
“The coach began to tell me horror stories of omegas in hockey getting raped by their teammates,” I finally force out. “He said alphas would never take me seriously, and they’d simply use and abuse me. No one would care, it’s part of hockey culture.”
“No, it’s not,” Skylar grits out. His arms cross over his bare chest as he listens to me, getting more and more annoyed by our conversation.
Oh well, they started it. “Who the fuck does this guy think he is? It’s truly inappropriate that he scared you with the assumption that you’d be raped by the people you’re supposed to trust. Your team fucking goes to war for you on and off the ice. They care about you.”
“I’ve been playing hockey for ten years,” I explain. “I’ve been teased, ogled, and inappropriately groped before. I’ve also insisted on being traded the second it happened. I refuse to be someone’s fuck toy.”
“Fuck,” Skylar mutters. “That’s not what I meant when I called you that—”
“I would have fought you harder if I thought you did,” I reply, blowing out a breath. “I’d also already be gone. I love my team, but I can’t handle living in fear every day just so I can play hockey.”
Shifting in my seat, I watch as Rhodes' large body hunches in his loungewear, listening to me intently. On the other hand, Skylar appears to be struggling to hold back some very choice words about Coach Foster, and I appreciate his support.
“I was lucky enough to immediately click with them. I’m currently the only omega on the team, but they don’t care,” I say.
“I keep trying to get Coach Foster’s words out of my head.
I just can’t. They keep following me. I ended up leaving the locker with my shit after his little speech and showered at home.
I didn’t tell my parents either. I didn’t want them to make me quit playing. ”
“Do you think they would have?” Skylar asks.
“Possibly, or my father would be in jail for beating the hell out of my coach,” I say. “I didn’t want either thing to happen, so I didn’t say shit.”
“Rape culture in hockey rooms isn’t as prevalent as your coach told you,” Skylar says. “Most places have cameras everywhere, and they’re simply too busy for that to happen. There’s also fraternization clauses.”
“No one seems to care about a fraternization clause here,” I chuckle.
“No, they don’t. I’m finding that Coach Weightman does whatever feels right for his team,” Skylar says. “If it comes up, I’ll file for pack rights which overrides the clause.”
“Wow,” I mutter.
“You shouldn’t be surprised by this,” Rhodes says. “Is it fast? Maybe, but scent matches tend to move quickly. Instincts and need supersedes the need to feel things out.”
He’s not wrong. My mind is still reeling with everything. It’s too new for me not to have concerns.
“Coach Foster is retired,” Skylar muses, glancing up from his phone.
“He is. I ran into his team early on in my career, but ignored his existence. I played viciously at those games, and that’s when I learned how to deal with all the anger and anxiety inside of me,” I say. “I’m an anxious penguin, so I’m sorry in advance, Rhodes.”
“Meh. I like knowing how you feel,” he says. “You’re so closed off, it’s nice to walk in your shoes.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. My eyes burn slightly with emotion. Even knowing he feels my feelings, I polish off my water to get some relief from them.
I’m a mess. Between being presented with a nest, to planning out the layout, to talking with my alpha, it’s all been a lot to process.
“Since we’re already giving Rhodes’ card a work out, let’s go hang on the couch and buy some furniture for the house on me,” Skylar says.
I appreciate that he’s not pushing for more information about Coach Foster. I need to start letting go of the old man’s control over me. The world isn’t always safe, which is a fact of life.
However, I don’t need to allow him to live rent free in my head any longer. Telling someone else about what happened helps. Coach Foster was in the wrong.
“Do you think your card is up to the task?” I tease Skylar. “I did some damage with Rhodes’ credit card.”
“It’s no more than I spend on clothes in a month,” Rhodes reassures me. “My corsets are expensive. I also need a panty fund if you’re going to keep ripping them off me.”
I don’t really remember doing that, and I blush furiously.
“I’ll contribute to the panty fund if I get to choose some of them,” I say in a show of courage. “I also have an idea for the couch. How do you feel about those modular fluffy ones?”
“Sounds fun,” Skylar says. “And comfortable. I want something I can sink into and nap while you and Rhodes watch a movie.”
“Naps are good,” I chuckle, watching as he efficiently puts food away and Rhodes cleans up.
They work around each other effortlessly, almost as if it’s a dance. It shows how long they’ve been together. Funny enough, it helps me feel better about living with them.
They’re not serial killers or criminals, but instead, just normal hockey players.
“I’m ready for you to spend my money,” Skylar says, pulling off the apron as we walk out of the kitchen.
“You need to put on pants or I won’t be able to concentrate,” I grumble
I need to seriously chill and enjoy getting to know my alphas. They're intense, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Right?