Chapter 11 Scotty
Scotty
Was it fair to hold those faded buttercream walls responsible for my decision to shimmy out the second-story window like some hormonal idiot with no common sense?
Because I really wanted to.
Those walls had witnessed my first heartbreak, my first attempt at sneaking a boy through the front door while Dad was away at an away game. Maybe stepping back into that room scrambled whatever part of my brain was responsible for self-preservation.
Or maybe it had absolutely nothing to do with the room and everything to do with the fact that two NHL Alphas were waiting for me in the dark like temptation wrapped in broad shoulders and very poor decision-making skills.
Despite my dramatic little speech about this being a one-time thing, every instinct inside me knew that if I let this go any further—if I stopped pretending this was just chemistry and actually got to know Ryder and Hunter—I was going to get attached.
My Omega was fully on board with that.
She practically purred at the idea.
My heart, however, had trust issues.
What if I let myself fall and they turned out to be just like Ken?
What if I handed them the messy parts of me—the insecurities, the stubborn pride, the fear—and they decided I was too complicated to keep?
Worse, what if I walked in one day and found them with someone else and realized I had once again been the only one who thought it meant something?
If this became something real, I'd be risking everything.
Dad would absolutely lose his mind. The number one rule in our house had always been simple: never fall for anyone on his roster.
He didn't believe in gray areas or biological loopholes or the argument that scent matches overrode common sense.
He believed in discipline, loyalty, and boundaries you did not cross.
Dad wouldn't give a damn that Ryder's voice made my racing thoughts finally shut up, or that Hunter's fingers tracing circles on my leg somehow anchored me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
He would see a problem that needed solving.
And Dad hated dealing with those.
I could abso-fucking-lutely not fall for these two Alphas.
So naturally, I found myself wedged between them in Hunter's truck like I'd learned absolutely nothing from my own internal TED Talk.
My thigh pressed against Hunter's. My shoulder tucked into Ryder's side.
Leather, coffee, and that comforting aroma of cinnamon filled the cab, and my lungs reacted like I had been oxygen-deprived for years.
I hated how my body relaxed between them, like they were some kind of walking anxiety medication.
Hunter drove with one hand loose on the wheel, relaxed and confident, while his other rested warm on my thigh like it had every right to be there.
Ryder's fingers slid into my hair and kneaded the back of my neck in slow, deliberate strokes that made tension seep out of me despite every argument I had prepared.
"Where's this ride headed?" I asked because I was approximately two seconds away from doing something humiliating like moaning their names and asking them to pull over.
"Back to our place," Ryder said calmly. "You said you needed a distraction."
The edge in his voice slid under my skin and settled somewhere dangerous.
The drive felt too short. Soon we were pulling into an underground garage, the engine cutting off with a quiet rumble.
Ryder climbed out first and came around to my side, opening the door and sliding me across the seat with his hands firm at my waist. For a second, I thought he would carry me, but instead, he set me carefully on my feet and kept hold of my hand.
Hunter brushed a quick kiss against Ryder's jaw as we walked toward the elevator. It was casual but so fucking hot. Ryder's hand squeezed his briefly in response before he shifted his focus back to me.
The elevator doors closed, and the space shrank instantly. Two large Alphas. One very conflicted Omega. It sounded like a questionable search history.
Hands settled on me from both sides. I wanted to lean into them, to choose a direction and let instinct take over, but I didn't know where to start.
"You need to relax, Baby Girl," Hunter murmured against my ear. "You're way too tense."
"I snuck out of my father's house, and now I'm trapped in an elevator with two Alphas," I whispered back. "What did you expect?"
Ryder's mouth brushed just below my ear, and a low rumble vibrated through his chest. "We expected you to let go and enjoy yourself, Sweetheart. Let your Alphas take care of you."
"You're not my—"
Ryder's mouth claimed mine before I could finish, his kiss silencing my objection and sending warmth cascading through me like honey.
The elevator chimed before I could completely forget why this was supposed to be a bad idea.
Ryder kept an arm around my waist as we stepped into a quiet hallway. Hunter slid the key into the lock, and I held my breath, about to cross the threshold into their private world.
It was exactly what I expected and nothing like it at the same time. Oversized leather couches. A massive entertainment system and a gorgeous skyline view from the full-length windows.
I started to feel a little out of place, but then I noticed the empty plates on the coffee table.
A pile of shoes at the entrance to the front door, and clothes strewn all over the place.
Underneath the polish, they were just men.
Large, wickedly attractive men who looked at me like I was their next meal.
"Want something to drink?" Hunter asked.
"Uh, sure," I said. "Whatever you're having is fine."
"I'll have a beer," Ryder answered for himself, steering me toward the windows.
Hunter returned with three bottles, and for a moment we simply stood there, looking out at the city lights.
"Where are you both from?" I asked eventually, partly because I needed a normal conversation before I did something reckless.
Dad used to tell me stories about all his players, but I knew almost nothing about Ryder and Hunter.
After moving to Blackridge, those conversations had slowed and then stopped.
Ken hated it when I talked about other players, especially ones who were not on the Blackridge Vipers.
He would get jealous, accusing me of being too interested.
Even mentioning players on his own team was risky.
Ken had a wicked jealous streak, and talking about other men simply wasn't worth the fight.
Somewhere along the line, I stopped asking questions just to keep the peace.
Another part of me I lost dating the bastard.
Hunter answered first. "Canada. Moved to Evercrescent when I got drafted by the Wolves. Now I can't imagine playing for anyone else. I negotiated a no-trade clause. Ry and I signed under a pack contract, so we can never be split up."
"How romantic," I teased, and they both chuckled. "How about you?" I asked Ryder, tilting my head to look up at him.
"Here." Ryder nodded toward the older part of the skyline. "Over on that side. Mom worked her ass off so I could follow my dreams."
"That's so sweet," I murmured, although thinking of Morgan in a good way still felt a little wrong. "Is that how you know each other? Signing with the Wolves?"
"Yeah, when we were both rookies," Hunter answered, looking over at his mate with a soft smile on his face. "He's always had my back and got me out of a lot of sticky situations."
A shadow passed over his face in the window's reflection, and my stomach tightened. "What happened?"
"A bunch of pricks didn't like that I was into dudes," he said tightly. "They automatically assumed I was hitting on them in the locker rooms or checking them out in the showers. Some of them got violent."
My chest tightened imagining a younger Hunter dealing with that. He saw it on my face and pulled me into a hug without hesitation. "Ryder took care of it, Baby Girl," he murmured into my hair. "And eventually it got better as I proved my worth as a teammate."
"You shouldn't have had to prove anything just to be respected," I said, squeezing him tighter like I could erase that history with a simple hug.
"We started dating about a month after we both joined the Wolves, and it didn't take long for us to claim each other. Maybe a week or two," Ryder continued, giving Hunter a second to gather himself. "I take care of what's mine, Scotty. Remember that."
The possessive edge in his voice made me wonder if I was now included in what he considered "his."
Ryder gently pulled me away from Hunter, turning me until my back hit the glass.
The chill of the glass against my skin made me gasp, but the shock faded as his warmth pressed against me, erasing the cold like it had never existed.
Hunter shifted into place beside me. The ease I felt between these two men should have set off alarm bells, but instead, it felt like slipping into a warm bath after a cold day.
I expected Ryder to kiss me, but instead, he lowered his head and dragged his nose slowly along my neck, inhaling my scent like it was his favorite thing in the world. The sound he made was low and satisfied, and my breath hitched so loudly I considered blaming the building's ventilation system.
Hunter's fingers slid up my arm, unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be. He pushed his hand into my hair and held me there gently.
"You smell delicious," he moaned, and the sound nearly undid me.
"So do you," I said, which was the lamest response in the history of human interaction, but unfortunately, it was all my brain had available.
Ryder's hand settled on the space just below my breasts, his thumb drawing slow circles that made it hard to think in complete sentences.
"Forget everything else tonight, Sweetheart," he said quietly, handing my beer bottle to Hunter who placed it down on the table along with his own. "It's just you and us. No one else. Be a good girl and let us take care of you."
Well. That felt illegal.
My brain immediately tried to remind me that I had caught my fiancé cheating that morning. That my dad would lose his fucking mind. That this was messy and complicated and possibly catastrophic.
My body doesn't care.
Neither does my Omega.
So why should I? I knew exactly what it meant coming here, so why was I so worried about what was wrong instead of focusing on what was so obviously right?
Hunter's mouth moved down my neck and nudged my shirt off one shoulder.
The scrape of his teeth against sensitive skin made my knees wobble, and the strongest urge to bare my neck and beg for his bite almost overwhelmed me.
Which was slightly humiliating, considering I was supposed to be the emotionally guarded one in this scenario.
"I want to hear you screaming our names before the end of the night, Baby Girl," he whispered huskily in my ear.
Hunter kissed me then, warm and deep, and I whimpered into his mouth before I could stop myself. When he pulled back, Ryder took his place seamlessly.
Ryder kissed differently. Slower. Deliberate.
His hand stayed at my hip, holding me exactly where he wanted me, while Hunter's palm slid across Ryder's chest and up into his hair.
Hunter's mouth found his bite mark on Ryder's neck, nipping and sucking on it, making Ryder moan in approval against my lips.
That was when my brain officially short-circuited.
It wasn't just their hands on me. It's their hands on each other.
The confidence. The ease. The way they moved like a team and still made space for me in the center.
MM hockey romances had always been my guilty pleasure, the kind I read under blankets with the brightness turned down.
Now I was wedged between two real-life Alphas who made every fictional version look underfunded.
I was so fucking screwed.
Ryder tugged my shirt up and over my head in one smooth motion. Hunter's hands followed, sliding behind me to undo my bra with infuriating ease. Cool air hit my skin, and I glanced down instinctively, noticing faint red marks already blooming where Hunter's mouth had been.
"Oh," Hunter breathed, gray eyes fixed on me like he had just discovered religion.
Ryder groaned, and I licked my lips as I watched him adjust himself in his pants. I've always been self-conscious about my appearance, but seeing the heat in their eyes as they took in my breasts gave me a little confidence boost.
"D-do you like what you see?" I asked, hoping I sounded as confident as I did in my head.
"Fuck me, Baby Girl. You're absolutely stunning."
"Those are the best set of tits I've ever seen," Ryder growled, clenching his fists at his side, like he had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching them.
Heat flooded my face, and I instinctively tried to cover myself when neither of them made a move to touch me, but Ryder caught both of my wrists easily in one hand and lifted them above my head, pressing them gently but firmly against the glass.
"Oh no, you don't," he said, his voice half feral. "You don't get to be shy now."