Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Scout
Trudging down the hallway, I pull out the keys to the front door and let myself in. The spicy smell of hot sauce hits me first and I pause in the doorway, sneezing several times. Silas pops his head around the corner from the kitchen.
"Sorry about the smell."
I close the door and cover my nose with my hand. My eyes are already watering as I walk into the kitchen.
"What is it?" I ask, surprised to see what appears to be some kind of noodle-laden soup. Si is pouring it into a bowl. Sitting beside it is a bottle of generic hot sauce and a sleeve of saltines.
"Hot crack." He smiles and shakes his head at himself. "Jett used to make it for us. It's ramen, a bunch of hot sauce, and some crumbled up crackers. Get it? Hot crack."
I squint. That name sounds familiar to me, but I can't think why. The knowledge sticks with me for a long moment, like an itch on the roof of your mouth. "I think you've mentioned it before."
"Have I?" He purses his lips as he shreds the saltine wrapper and crumbles the crackers over the soup. "I didn't think you were coming home. Do you want a bowl? I can make another one for myself."
I try not to wince. "Uh, no. I'm okay. I'll eat... later. When the house smells less like Satan's asshole."
"Sorry." Si grimaces. "You're missing out, though."
Just then, I go into a series of several sneezes, each one more painful than the last. I need to get away from this horrible smell. "I'm going to go into my room."
He raises his eyebrows. "Should I open some windows?"
I sneeze again, then nod. "That'd be nice."
As I'm bolting to my bedroom, he calls, "Sorry, baby!"
I close myself into my bedroom and stuff a towel under the door for good measure. Silas is usually a respectful roommate, so he can get away with this one terrible roommate faux pas. At least he's not microwaving spicy fish.
I flop across my bed with a sigh. My laptop is plugged in by the couch, but no way in hell am I going to venture out into that acrid smell to get it. I grab my phone and check my work emails, finding it hard to focus on anything but the spice-laden air.
Hot crack, Si called it. It continues to tickle me, feeling like a hair from my head that's on my shirt and ever so gently driving me insane.
I close my email app with a sigh and scroll through my phone to get to my notes app.
I keep a running list of things I need to do.
Maybe my list will inspire some spark of productivity.
But I stop scrolling when my eye lands on Twinge, the dating app I deleted weeks ago.
That same strange tickle in the back of my brain gets stronger. Something about Hot Crack...
I redownload the app, my heart beating faster. My conversation with StatMan should still be in the archived messages even though I deleted my account. The app takes forever to load, and when it finally does, I navigate to the message history.
There. StatMan12. I scroll through our old conversations, past the goodbye message I sent him weeks ago. I keep scrolling back, back, until I find what I'm looking for.
A conversation about his childhood comfort foods. He was away on business and staying in a hotel room, eating...
Hot Crack. Ramen, crumbled crackers, and a ton of hot sauce. Even then, I thought it was gross.
My heart speeds up. Is Hot Crack a local delicacy that I just don't know about? It seems impossible.
A quick Google search shows me a ton of results, mostly news articles about drug busts and releases promoting a band with the same name. But nothing about ramen, crackers, or hot sauce.
Hot Crack ramen
Hot Crack food
Hot Crack seattle
All the same results. I put my phone down, sneezing, and curse Si for making his concoction. It's ruining my ability to think.
What are the chances that StatMan and Silas both had the same juvenile joke about an unusual dish? It's possible. But... I pull up Silas's past travel schedule, comparing it with StatMan's comments about traveling and hating being on the road. Every single time that StatMan was traveling?
Silas was on the road, flying for the Havoc.
I screw my face up and make a frustrated noise.
Is... is Silas StatMan? The idea is so crazy that I feel insane just having it. But they kind of talk alike. Especially when they talk dirty.
Oh god. Yoga Girl, Pretty Girl… Am I going crazy?
I toss my phone aside and make a face. The most mature thing to do would be to confront him about it.
I'd feel so embarrassed if they were actually one and the same. Vulnerable, violated. But mostly I'd need to know why. Why would Silas hide behind a screen? He proved that he was perfectly capable of seducing me in real life. So why would he need to pretend that he didn't know me?
I stand up and fling my door open. Somehow in the confusion, I forgot that Silas had filled the apartment with the stench of stewing hot sauce.
Blargh. I pinch my shirt and put it over my nose, venturing out to the living room.
Silas is on the couch, watching game tape on the tv and slurping his awful-smelling concoction.
I come around the couch and fold my arms as I level him with a stare.
He's sprawled on the couch in gray sweatpants and a faded Havoc t-shirt, bare feet propped on the coffee table.
Six foot eight of casual comfort, his dirty blond hair messy like he's been running his hands through it.
Those blue-gray eyes flick up to mine, and I watch his expression shift from relaxed to wary in a heartbeat.
He raises the tv remote and pauses the game.
"Are you coming to ask me to make you some ramen?" he jokes.
My heart speeds up as I shake my head, pulling my shirt off my face. "I have a weird question to ask. You didn't pose as someone else and talk to me on Twinge, did you?"
Silas stills, a flush rising in his cheeks. "Err. Maybe?"
My jaw drops. "Yes or no?"
He bobs his head, a guilty expression on his face. "I did."
I can't believe him. "And you were just... never going to mention that to me? You didn't think I'd want to know that you're StatMan?"
He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "I was kind of hoping it would never come up."
My eyes bug out. "Silas! Do you know what StatMan was to me?"
Silas shakes his head once, careful, like he already knows he's not going to like the answer. "No."
"It wasn't just sex," I say. "It wasn't even mostly sex."
He opens his mouth, then closes it, giving me a small nod to continue.
"Our conversation was an escape. It was the one place I didn't think ahead," I say. "I didn't run scenarios or calculate outcomes. I didn't ask myself what it would cost me to want something." My chest tightens, but my voice stays steady. "And you turned it into a lie."
“It’s not a lie. I want you," he says immediately. "I always have."
"That's not the same thing," I reply.
He frowns and twists up his face. "How?"
"Because wanting me privately doesn't carry consequences," I say. "Wanting me in real life does."
He shifts closer, then stops himself, like he's afraid of making the wrong move. "I never wanted to put you at risk."
"I know, but that doesn't make it better. What if someone from the team found out?”
"You know I'd protect you," he says.
"You don't get to be my shield and the reason I need one.”
His jaw tightens. "I was scared. You were living in my house. I didn't want to cross a line and lose you."
"So you crossed a different one instead.”
Silence stretches. He looks down, then back up.
"You're a hockey player," I press. "You have money, leverage, and an entire system designed to protect you."
"I'm aware."
"I'm barely a temp trainer," I say. "No contract. No guarantees. If things went badly for us and we accidentally started a scandal, you'd get a warning or a fine. Maybe a lecture. I'd get fired."
His face tightens, guilt flashing across it. "I wouldn’t let that happen."
“News flash!” I shake my head. “You don’t control everything, Si.”
He nods slowly, absorbing it. “I’m sorry. Really, Scout.”
"I won't be someone's secret," I say. "I won't be the place you hide because it's easier than standing in the open."
"Scout, that's not what this is. I wanted you and… I thought I couldn’t have you."
A blow out a long breath. "I won't be in a relationship where I carry all the risk and you carry none. I did that with Enzo already. Whatever is between us, Silas, I need it to be different."
"It is different!" He scowls. "I'm nothing like him, Scout."
"I need space tonight," I say. "And you have some serious thinking to do."
"Scout." He stands and catches my wrist, gently tugging.
"I'm serious, Silas." I pull away and head to my bedroom. I grab my overnight bag from the closet and start throwing things in. A change of clothes. A toothbrush, my charger.
Silas appears in my doorway, his face stricken. "Where are you going?"
"Juliet's. I’m just going for the night. I need to think, and I can't do it here."
"Scout, please. Can we just talk about this?"
"We just did." I zip the bag. "I'm not breaking up with you, Silas. I'm just... I need space to process this. I'll see you tomorrow at work."
I brush past him. He doesn't try to stop me, just stands there looking lost.
The weight hits once I'm in my car. Not heartbreak exactly, but something close to grief. Grief for the version of myself who thought there was one place in her life where wanting didn't come with a cost.
I text the Coven as I drive.
Me
I know this is last minute, but is anyone able to meet up? I'm having a crisis.
Juliet
What? Come over to my house! I'm hanging out with Wren while Coach Ryan and Hunter watch the game in the other room.
Wren
Yes! Please, come join us.
Ivy
I'm out of town, but please catch me up ASAP!
Jessa
I'm putting on my coat and grabbing my keys. I'll meet y'all at Juliet's!
I show up with a bottle of wine and no plan. Jessa opens the door, takes one look at my face, and steps aside without asking a single question. I end up on the couch, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.
Juliet sits on the floor in front of me, back against the couch, close enough that her knee presses lightly into mine. Wren takes the armchair, curling her feet under her. No one rushes me. No one fills the silence with meaningless comfort.
I start with, "Silas and I had a fight. A big one."
"What did he do?" Juliet's assumption that he did something puts a weak smile on my face.
"He set up a fake profile on a dating site, targeted me, and got me talking. And, um. I said a lot of things to him that I probably wouldn't have said if I knew who he was."
"What kind of things?" Wren lowers her voice to a whisper. "Sexy things?"
I nod. "Sexy things. But also like... a lot of really personal confessions? Like he asked me about what I want out of life and I told him... everything. God, I'm so embarrassed."
I hide my face behind my hands.
Jessa swears under her breath. When I peek out between my fingers, Juliet is frowning and Wren's mouth falls open.
"Oh my god," Jessa says. "That's... wow."
Juliet lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh, but it dies fast when she looks at me. "Okay," she says instead. "Okay."
"I can't believe Silas did that." Wren shakes her head slowly. "I didn't have that on my bingo card."
Jessa kneels on the floor, looking concerned. "You're allowed to be mad," she says. "And sad. And confused. Possibly all at once."
No one tells me to forgive him. No one tells me to run.
"What do you want?" Wren asks quietly.
The question lands differently than I expect. Not like pressure, but like permission.
"I don't know yet," I admit. "I mean, I think I love him. But I don't like being lied to."
"Girl, I get it." Juliet nods. "It's fine to be mad at him for doing that. It's a violation of your trust."
"I just feel like an idiot. Silas was in the room next to mine, texting me all that stuff. And I was clueless." I shake my head. "I ended things with StatMan weeks ago because I was falling for Silas. I had no idea they were the same person."
"Maybe he thought it was safer to talk to you that way first," Juliet offers.
"I still fell in love with him, though. I'm so easy. It makes me look pathetic."
"Hey! Don't talk about my friend Scout like that." Jessa hugs me. "You're not stupid for wanting him."
"Silas is hot," Wren says. "Scary, but hot. I’m pretty sure that wanting connection with means you're human."
I sigh. "Maybe. But what am I supposed to do now? I told him I needed space tonight."
Juliet smiles softly. "Then take the space. Stay here tonight. Sleep on it. You'll know what you want to do tomorrow."
"Just remember that we've got your back no matter what," Wren says.
"I think I have to forgive him eventually." My cheeks grow warm. "I love him. Even if right now, I'm so mad I could spit."
"Well, your bed is still made at the apartment," Jessa points out. "And you're welcome to crash at Juliet's guest room tonight."
"I feel so left out." Wren wrinkles her nose. "Just because my husband is one of the coaches doesn't mean that you can't stay with us."
I can't help but smile. "Thanks, ladies. I really needed some girl time."
Jessa picks up the wine I brought. "I'm going to pour us each a glass."
"Oh! None for me." Wren blushes and bites her lip. "Ryan and I decided to try to start our family."
"Wren!" I look at her, grinning. "That's amazing!"
"Thanks. It's very exciting. Plus, it's..." Wren turns as red as a tomato. "Fun? To try?"
"We need to toast." Juliet pops up from the couch. "I have some sparkling cider. Let me get some glasses."
I look around the room and feel grateful that these are my friends.