Chapter 13 Hunter
Hunter
Scotty opened her mouth like she was about to argue, but whatever fight she had left dissolved into a sleepy yawn. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, and her head drifted sideways until it found Ryder’s lap. Within seconds, tiny snores escaped her parted lips.
It was so fucking adorable.
One hand fisted itself in Ryder’s shirt like she thought he might evaporate if she let go. Her hair was a mess. Her cheek was smushed. There was definitely drool involved.
Ryder’s fingers moved through her hair without him even realizing he was doing it. Just soft, repetitive strokes, like she was something breakable.
And the look on his face.
It was the same soft, stupid look he gave me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. The one he pretended he didn’t have.
I always wondered if I’d be jealous seeing him look at someone else like that.
There wasn’t even a flicker of it.
Seeing Ryder and Scotty like that—her curled into him, him looking at her like she hung the damn moon—didn’t make me feel left out.
It made me feel complete. Like there was a missing piece to our puzzle, we didn’t realize what was missing until she came crashing into our lives.
Literally.
I probably looked like a creep, staring at her sleeping. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to memorize her like this. The way her lashes rested against her cheeks. The tiny twitch of her lips. The faint crease between her brows that disappeared when Ryder smoothed his thumb over it.
This was insane.
It’s been hours. Not weeks. Not months. Hours.
But none of that mattered; I knew I wanted to keep her.
I wanted her stealing my hoodies and bitching about our laundry habits. I wanted to celebrate every win with her and let her comfort every loss. I wanted the snoring and the attitude and the way she said my name when she was frustrated.
I leaned forward and brushed my knuckles over her cheek, just once, because I couldn’t help myself.
Mine.
“If you don’t stop thinking so loudly, I’m going to punch you,” Scotty mumbled around a yawn.
Ryder and I both stilled.
She arched her back against his thighs, nestling deeper into his warmth rather than pulling away. Her eyes blinked open slowly, green and hazy with sleep. She looked at me, then at Ryder, and gave this small, shy smile like she’d just remembered where she was.
“Sorry,” she said, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m a bitch when I wake up.”
“So is Grumpy Pants over here,” I said, grinning as I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You should see him before coffee.”
“Shut up,” Ryder grumbled, but he dipped his face into her hair and inhaled her scent like he needed it. “Mornings are for psychopaths.”
“Morning people terrify me,” she agreed with a mock-serious nod, her shoulders giving a little theatrical shiver.
Ryder laughed softly. “Hear that, Hunt? Our girl is terrified of you. Don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe when he decides to wake up at five a.m.”
“Oh, you’ll never be safe from me, Love,” I growled, and she squealed when I pulled her off Ryder’s lap and in for a kiss.
I couldn’t help myself. There was something sweet about her when she was sleepy.
Soft. Vulnerable. So different from the confident, sarcastic firecracker who mouthed off while standing in traffic.
I wished like hell she wasn’t Coach’s daughter. And with Ryder’s mom engaged to Coach? The whole thing was more complicated than it had any right to be.
I didn’t really care about any of that. Not really. I only cared because it bothered Scotty. In my mind, she was ours, and that was that. Everything else was static. If anyone had a problem with that, they could get fucked.
Scotty’s still breathing heavily, her soft breasts pressed against me as I tasted her lips. I wanted to bury myself inside her; it took so much restraint, whilst we feasted on her, not to pull her down and plunge my cock deep into her wet pussy.
She kissed me back, her tongue stroking mine, conveying almost as much hunger as I felt for her. Her hands pushed up my shirt and slid under the waistband of my sweats. I was surprised my cock hasn’t burst through the fabric already.
“Scotty.” Ryder’s voice cuts through the fog, all growly and serious.
I frowned against her lips. “Really?”
“Scotty,” he repeated, closer now.
She pulled back from me, blinking, and turned toward him. He was standing near the coffee table, her phone in his hand, the screen lighting up his clenched jaw.
“Is it Dad?” The words tumbled out of her, her face going pale as chalk. “Oh fuck. Does he know I’m not home?”
She shifted like she was about to launch herself across the room.
“Who the fuck is Ken?” Ryder barked. “And why does he keep calling you? There are over twenty missed calls from him in the last hour.”
My Alpha felt absolutely feral at the idea of Scotty potentially having another man in her life. I was already planning his funeral when I saw the color drain from her face.
“What the hell?” she muttered, her voice stripped of all warmth. Her jaw tightened so hard it changed her whole face. Whatever softness had been there a second ago vanished.
She slid off my lap and reached for her shirt.
When she turned back toward me, there were tears in her eyes.
It felt like a punch to the gut, seeing her like that.
She buried her face in her hands. A sob slipped out, and her whole body trembled as I wrapped my arms around her.
Ryder was there in two steps.
“I’ve got her,” he said quietly, scooping her up and carrying her to the couch. He set her down in the middle, as we sandwiched her in.
“Scotty,” I said softly, brushing strands of hair away from her face. “Talk to us.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, teeth clenched like she was trying to physically hold herself together. “It’s just been such a long day.”
Her shoulders shook once more before she forced herself upright.
“He won’t fucking leave me alone,” she muttered. “He didn’t even pay half as much attention to me when we were together.”
Ryder’s jaw flexed. “Who is this asshole?”
She wiped at her cheeks like she was annoyed at herself for crying. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“It became our problem the second you started crying, Baby Girl,” I said quietly.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I ruined everything tonight.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” I assured her.
Ryder leaned into her space, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on hers. His voice lowered to that steady, granite tone that meant playtime was over.
“Start talking, Scotty,” he said. “We’re not taking you home until you tell us what’s going on.”