Chapter 31
Scotty
Imet Millie and Ella for lunch again, this time at the little burger joint downtown that we all liked.
The fries were so good they should be illegal, and the milkshakes were thick enough to stand your straw straight up like a flagpole.
Even though I technically had savings, they insisted on buying.
Millie snatched the check before I could even reach for it and informed me that if I tried to argue, she would physically fight me in the parking lot, which was honestly a believable threat considering she once tackled a guy for cutting in line at Starbucks.
Ella nodded along like this was perfectly reasonable and told me to keep my money for when I moved into my own place. Between the two of them, they managed to steer the entire conversation away from Hunter and Ryder, which I appreciated more than they probably realized.
By the end of the meal, they had me laughing so hard I choked on my fries. I left the restaurant feeling lighter than I had in days.
That light feeling evaporated the moment I turned onto Dad’s street and spotted a gleaming black convertible parked in our driveway.
Not just any convertible, either. This thing probably costs more than my entire student debt. A man in khakis and a dealership polo stood next to it, looking mildly bored.
“Rebecca Scott?” he asked.
I nodded. Why the fuck was he here asking for me?
He smiled and held out a set of keys. “This is for you. Congrats on your new set of wheels.”
I stared at the car.
Then at him.
Then back at the car again, because the fuck?
“Uh, no,” I said and immediately took a step backward like he just tried to hand me a live grenade instead of keys to a new car. “You must have the wrong Rebecca Scott or something. I didn’t buy a car.”
“I was told to deliver it to a Miss Rebecca Scott who lives at this address. You just confirmed you’re Rebecca Scott. Do you live here?”
I nodded like an idiot.
“Then this is your car.”
“No.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, there’s been some kind of mistake.”
But I just fucking knew there wasn’t any mistake, and I had a pretty good idea who’d orchestrated this whole thing.
Dad would never go out and buy me a brand new car without talking to me first. This gleaming monstrosity had hockey players with more money than sense written all over it.
How exactly did they expect me to explain this car to my dad?
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, watching his expression shift to one that clearly questioned my sanity. “But you need to take this thing back to wherever it came from. Like right now.”
“Can’t do that,” he said with a shrug. “It’s been paid for, so it isn’t my problem anymore.”
Rude.
I pulled out my phone and tried calling Hunter first because out of the two, he was the more sensible one. Which wasn’t saying much. When he didn’t pick up, I reluctantly called Ryder instead. Three rings later, his smug voice filled my ear.
“Like your new car, Sweetheart?”
At least he wasn’t going to try to deny it was them.
“What the fuck were you two thinking buying me a new car?” I screeched, then remembered I had company. “You can’t do shit like this, Ryder. What the fuck am I supposed to tell my dad?”
“That you needed a car, and we felt bad for crashing into you?” He sounded so calm as he spoke, which pissed me off even more.
“I crashed into you, you idiot,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You need to take it back.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening, Scotty. Tell your dad whatever you want, but that’s a courting gift from Hunter and me, and there are no give-backs.”
“This isn’t a fucking courting gift, Ryder. It’s a big fuck you to my dad. Buy me chocolates next time.”
“I’ll have some delivered tonight for you.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snapped, wishing I could crawl through the phone and punch him in his pretty face.
“Gotta go, Sweetheart. Enjoy your new ride.”
“I’m not driving this car,” I shouted, but the bastard had already hung up on me.
With a sigh, I turned back to the dealership guy. His eyebrows had climbed halfway up his forehead during my phone call, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh at the free entertainment I’d just provided.
I held out my hand.
“I’m not driving this car,” I repeated what I just told Ryder and took the keys.
His expression said that it was my problem to deal with. “Can I go now?”
He drove away, probably to warn his coworkers about the unhinged Omega who lived in this neighborhood.
I went inside and dropped the keys on the kitchen counter, then immediately changed my mind and shoved them into a drawer because the last thing I needed was the temptation of climbing into that ridiculously beautiful car and taking it for a spin.
Neither Hunter nor Ryder messaged me until later that night, and asked me to have dinner with them when they got back on Sunday.
I told them to go fuck themselves. I bet they fucked each other instead.
The next night, they tried again, and I told them I already had a date with my battery operated boyfriend. I did this while aggressively eating the expensive as fuck chocolate Ryder had delivered this morning.
I ignored them all of Saturday, and by the time Sunday rolled around, they clearly had enough.
Crash Daddy: Can you please talk to us, Scotty? Is this just about the car?
Grumpy Wolf: Did we hurt you that night?
No matter how pissed off I was, I couldn’t have them thinking they hurt me.
Scotty: You know you didn’t hurt me.
Scotty: Neither did Hunter. You guys were perfect.
Hunter’s response came through at the same time as Ryder’s.
Crash Daddy: Why are you avoiding us then?
Grumpy Wolf: Then what the fuck is going on?
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard as I tried to find the right words.
Scotty: I’m just working through a couple of things.
Scotty: You told me you guys would wait.
Ryder responded immediately.
Grumpy Wolf: I also told you I would never stop chasing you.
Grumpy Wolf: You don’t get to ghost us, Scotty. You’re ours.
Scotty: I don’t belong to anyone, Ryder Thomas.
Crash Daddy: Well, we sure as shit belong to you.
Grumpy Wolf: We don’t want to own you, Rebecca Scott. We just want to love you.
Crash Daddy: Please let us love you.
I crawled into my tiny nest after that and sobbed into the hoodie Ryder gave me the morning after they fucked me for the first time. It smelled like both of them, warm cinnamon and rich coffee wrapped together in a scent that made my Omega purr even while my heart felt like it might crack open.
I love them.
And they love me back.
They didn’t exactly say the words, but it was heavily implied.
I said I would give us a chance, and I meant it; I just didn’t know how to stop being scared.
When I woke up the next morning, there were a few messages from Ryder and one from Hunter.
Grumpy Wolf: After our game tomorrow, we’re talking.
Grumpy Wolf: No more spiraling and no more being scared.
Grumpy Wolf: Don’t bother trying to hide. I will find you.
Crash Daddy: See you tomorrow
My eyes stayed glued to those messages until my screen dimmed, then went dark. It lit up again when I tapped it with a shaky finger just to read them one more time.
Apparently, the two Alphas hadn’t been nearly as oblivious to my emotional spiral as I originally thought.
Then again, what did I expect from professional hockey players? Reading the ice was literally their job. Of course, they noticed when I started skating circles around my own feelings.
How the fuck was I going to stop being scared by tomorrow?