Chapter Four
Steven
“You lost the bet fair and square, so stop whining,” Marilyn, the PR director of my hockey team, the Scented Scorpions, cornered me after the game.
A game we’d won. This wasn’t just any game, but the last game of the semi-finals. A game that secured our team’s place in the finals.
Something our team had never expected.
At the same time, I’d lost the bet tonight. I tried so hard. But I’d lost anyway.
“Did you really expect me to let him get away with that?” I retorted. I’d earned the nickname, Even Steven, because if you went after my teammates, I’d get even with you.
And if you went after Ashton, you were a dead man.
That generally resulted in me spending a lot of time in the penalty box.
Marilyn had bet me that I couldn't go through the playoffs without ending up in the penalty box. I was confident that my self-control would win. After all, I didn’t have to fight someone. We had other players who’d be happy to.
Until someone on the other team got wind of my bet and had intentionally gone after Ashton to bait me.
Like a dumbass, I’d gone after him, instead of letting Ashton handle it, like he said he would.
And I’d gotten time in the penalty box for my efforts.
“A bet is a bet,” she stated, hands on her hips. Marilyn was an older alpha, with short white hair, and took no shit.
This team also meant everything to her.
“Someone leaked the bet to the other team.” My eyes narrowed.
After successfully matching up a number of my teammates, Marilyn had been trying to set everybody else up as well. My boyfriend, Ashton, and I were the holdouts, refusing to even consider her shenanigans, even if we were ruining her streak.
Marilyn shot me a pointed look. “Your lack of self-control is not my problem. You still lost the bet.”
A large hand lay on my shoulder. Gary Ashton, who no one called Gary, not even me, was my boyfriend and teammate, and played defense.
Ashton was a giant, bearded lumbersexual of a guy.
He sported a man bun tied on the top of his head with a scrunchie a fan had traded him a puck for.
While he was currently wearing a suit, he was more at home in flannels and cable knit sweaters.
“It happens.” Ashton glared at Marilyn. “We don’t want this.”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” I added. It wasn’t like she didn’t know our history, since she had to clean up the mess. You’d think she’d have more compassion.
Okay, I might be ready to meet an omega. But I didn’t want to be set up on a date or pressured into it. I wanted it to be on our terms.
Also, Ashton wasn’t ready.
“I’m not saying that you need to find a new omega and bond. All I want is for you two to get back out there. You don’t need to swear off omegas forever just because Charlotte was a cheating, thieving bitch,” she replied.
Charlotte had been in marketing, helping with fan engagement. Everything was fun and games, until we discovered she already had a boyfriend and was actually using us as a cover to engage in corporate espionage.
“What do you want us to do? We have the finals coming up. We can’t afford to be distracted,” I added to Marilyn, still skeptical. Though she had mentioned she had the perfect omega in mind.
Was this really the best time to set us up? We’d come so far as a team this year–from being one of the worst teams in the league to having an actual chance at winning the playoffs. None of us wanted to fuck it up.
“It’s not even a date. A friend of mine called me for a favor.
Her omega niece is in town. The niece doesn’t want to be set up either.
Though really, she is perfect for you. All my friend is looking for is for you to show her a good time.
Talk to her. Show her around a little. Maybe have dinner.
Nothing that will take away from practice or finals,” Marilyn explained, like we had all the time in the world and didn’t have our whole careers riding on something we never expected.
I exchanged looks with Ashton. Technically, he was excluded from the bet, but his opinions mattered.
“I’m not a tour guide,” I grumped.
“Would you rather play a tour guide, or do you want to go out on actual dates? Your choice?” Marilyn’s eyes narrowed at me.
“Fine. Drinks and one outing. Why is she in town?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m not going to spoil it and give you all her details. I’ll let you discover everything for yourself.” Marilyn smirked.
Obviously, she hoped that despite nobody actually wanting to pair up, that it would happen anyway, and didn’t want us to have any preconceived ideas.
“Fine.” I sighed. Really this wasn’t the right time. Couldn’t it wait until after finals?
“That’s what I like to hear. It’s very important that you make a good impression and that you try to show her a good time.
She’ll meet you at the bar in the Magnolia Grand hotel tomorrow at seven thirty.
She’ll be wearing sunglasses and dragonflies,” Marilyn instructed, checking the notes on her phone.
“Great. Send us a picture and her name?” I asked, thinking the whole thing was a little weird.
“Where’s the fun in that?” she teased. “It’s a date then.”
“I thought you said we’re just supposed to show her around?” I frowned, disliking this.
“Same thing,” she waved off. “Be good.” Making that I’ve got my eye on you hand motion, she turned and walked away.
Ashton put his arm around me. “Should we drown our sorrows at Slapshots? Everyone’s going out to celebrate.”
That was the bar the team often went to. “Yeah, I could use a couple of drinks.”
Guilt filled me at my lack of self-control. I leaned my head on him. “I can’t believe I lost that bet. You know I tried.”
He put his giant hand over mine. “I know. But it’s not like we’re going to lose our hearts.”
Not likely. “Ha, I’d like to see that omega try.”