4. Spencer
I want to blame the lack of sleep or the fucked-up schedule for the reason we lose our last game before the Christmas break. But I was taught that lying, even to yourself, isn’t something to be tolerated.
I’ve been watching Coach all day, ever since I stepped into what was looking to be a heated exchange between him and Tori in the lobby. I’ve never seen Logan act like that, even going back to when he was my coach at U of Michigan. He’s the level-headed one, the type of person who wouldn’t be caught dead showing that something got under his skin. But the way he looked at Tori…
I couldn’t tell if he wanted to choke her or fuck her. And that bothered the hell out of my alpha instincts. More than usual.
So I’d been watching him and Tori all day, my guard up whenever they were within shouting distance. I probably came across like an ass at the fundraiser, hardly speaking to any of the fans who came up to me. It was too easy to slip back into my media smile, the one I’d perfected in San Francisco to cope with the pressure they put me under. But the entire time, my eyes were locked on Tori, following her to keep her as safe as I could without physically being at her side.
Once we got to practice, it was easier to get back to thinking about hockey, but just barely. The brief contact I’d had with Tori was informative in ways I didn’t expect. She looks good, at least on the outside, but I could sense something’s changed, something she has been keeping close to her chest. Her skin is clearer, the slightly tanned surface practically glowing to my eyes. Her dark roots are coming in again, creating a stunning gradient down the strands until they reach the blonde tips. Her blue eyes, one just slightly darker than the other, sparkle like gemstones. She’s physically as gorgeous as she’s ever been. But her scent...
When we first met all those years ago, I remember how her sweet tea and magnolia scent nearly kicked my teeth out when I’d entered her borrowed nest to help her through her heat. My heart ached from the homesickness it drew up within me. But when we crossed paths again, her scent was more subdued. I really had to focus to find it in a crowded room, and if there were too many people, it would get lost. Beta scents are often like that, present but not overpowering. But today, I could smell her from fifty yards away without needing to think about it. And up close, it was like diving headfirst into a swimming pool of it. I had enough wherewithal to look around, to clock the reactions of my teammates, but none of them seemed to have such a visceral reaction to Tori’s omega perfume as I did. Well, none of them except Eli and Oli. But they kept their distance, trying not to draw attention to their interest in her.
I’m jolted from my thoughts as the locker room door slams open, Coach striding through it like a man on a mission. I sigh as he scans the suddenly silent room, his glare falling on me even as he addresses everyone.
“We should have won that one. You all know that. And the only reason I’m cutting you guys any fucking slack is because of how fucked our schedule was today. Enjoy your break, but I expect all of you to come back here focused and ready to push hard toward the playoffs. There won’t be room for distractions. Am I understood?”
I hold Logan’s stare, and I notice Oli and Eli stiffen on either side of me, almost like they’re tensing to jump from their seats on my behalf. My heart skips a beat at the show of solidarity, but it’s not necessary. If Coach and I are going to get into it, we’ll do it where there aren’t so many witnesses.
Thankfully, fisticuffs don’t prove to be necessary as everyone mumbles their agreement and Logan storms off almost as fast as he came. It’s only once the door swings closed that Eli leans in.
“Why was he trying to glare a hole through your head?” he mutters, covering up the question with the ripping of Velcro.
“He thinks I’m distracted because I stepped in this morning,” I say simply, not willing to discuss this further with so many of our teammates around.
Eli pauses for a moment, as if expecting me to say more, but I just shake my head and bend down to unlace my skates. We can talk about Logan’s attitude toward Tori later, and that’s if Tori wants us to do anything about it. But knowing her, she’ll just brush it off as alphas being alphas. I can only hope that this isn’t any deeper than Logan simply being cranky about his schedule. But we’ll just have to wait and see.
Eli is practically vibrating in the front passenger seat as we make our way over to Tori’s house after the game. We’re a little later than we would normally be, as we went back to our place to gather our pre-Christmas gifts and surprises. And despite Oli’s fretting, we’ve still got plenty of time to get where we need to go and do it without being seen.
“Do you think she’s going to like this? What if she hates it?” Oli asks, not for the first time since we agreed to this plan. He’s been the one with the most concerns, which isn’t all that surprising. He doesn’t seem like the grand gesture sort of guy.
Eli reaches over and pats his partner’s shoulder a few times. “We’ve taken every precaution and thought about every contingency. She might be the most type-A person I’ve ever met, but she’s still an omega.”
And he would know the most about what omegas want. He comes from a massive polycule, with enough siblings to skate a regulation hockey team, and he was given the best education of the alpha-beta-omega dynamics. He’s reassured Oliver plenty of times that even if Tori balks at first, her instincts will secretly love this.
Oli carefully maneuvers us through the darkened streets of Tori’s neighborhood, most of the houses dark while their inhabitants sleep. But the one house with its porch light still on, and a soft glow emanating from behind the living room curtains, just so happens to be our destination. Oli pulls into the driveway, parking carefully outside the garage. We all share a last look before we open the doors and head inside.
Eli’s knuckles barely touch the wood of Tori’s front door before it’s practically ripped off its hinges with the force Tori opens it. And then she’s launching herself at Eli, her arms tight around his neck. He laughs and cradles her, not even hesitating to adjust his grip as she jumps again, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Good to see you, too, sunshine.” He laughs and hoists her a little higher in his arms.
“God, y’all took forever to get here,” she groans, her words muffled as she refuses to look up from where she’s buried her nose into Eli’s neck.
I smile fondly, my heart only aching a little. Tori and I have done some serious work to improve our relationship, but my instincts haven’t quite gotten the “taking it slow” memo. Her smile might turn my insides to goo, and her scent might make my knot ache, but I know better than to push her. One day, she’ll jump on me like this. But for now, I can convince myself that I’m happy she’s happy.
Oli growls, nudging me and Eli forward with light shoulder checks. I glance at him, but then have to do a double take at how his amber eyes are scanning the street as if he expects a killer clown to jump out from behind one of the hydrangea bushes. I furrow my brow in confusion, but Oliver shakes his head to one side, then the other, subtle but effective. We’ll talk later. Eli doesn’t even notice the exchange as he carries Tori over the threshold.
As soon as the front door is closed, Oli relaxes almost instantly. I glance around Tori’s living space, smiling at the cute but whimsical decor. There’s a distinctly Tori-shaped dent in the pile of blankets on the sofa, an empty wineglass abandoned on the coffee table with her work laptop beside it with the lid closed.
“You’re gonna choke me out.” Eli laughs, pretending to do just that even as he walks farther into the house. He doesn’t take off his shoes; none of us do. Oli checks his watch as he takes a seat in the recliner, and I take a seat right on the edge of the sofa, facing Tori and Eli as they collapse into a heap. The sudden landing finally dislodges Tori’s barnacle grip on Eli’s neck, and she gasps, a bright flush spreading over her cheeks.
“Sorry, I don’t...yeah. Anyway. Hi.” She stumbles over her words breathlessly.
“ Bonjour, ma reine. Nous vous avons manqué ?” 1 Oliver practically purrs, and even my stomach flips at the sinful smirk he’s aiming her way.
“ Oui, mon roi ,” Tori responds without missing a beat.
Then she’s off the couch and in his lap, her hands in his hair as she claims his mouth in a firm kiss. His hands go to her hips and hold her steady as he sits up and scoots to the edge of his seat, her little moan making my mouth water. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it feels like the temperature of the room just went up by five or ten degrees. She turns slowly, her eyes connecting with mine. Suddenly, I don’t know what to do with my hands, or my tongue. Should I say something? Do we need to talk about what happened this morning? Is she feeling okay?
My brain short-circuits as she gives Oliver another kiss, this one brief but sticky sweet, before sauntering over to stand before me. I crane my head back, staring up at her beautiful heart-shaped face, too stunned to speak. Her smile is soft and slow, the warmest I’ve seen from her since fate brought us back together at the start of this season. She reaches up a hand, gently twisting a curly lock of my hair around one of her slender fingers.
“That was a stupid goal you let in,” she says, that smile never fading.
I smirk back at her. “Yeah, it was. My mind wasn’t exactly on the ice with me tonight,” I admit, flushing pink in the ears.
She tilts her head to one side. “Where was it?” she asks, all innocence.
I let out a little warning growl before I move, but she doesn’t flinch. Then I’m on my feet, sweeping her into my arms, bending her back as I slant my lips over hers. When she doesn’t pull away but threads her fingers into my hair, pulling slightly, I purr against her mouth. Not to get me to let go, but just to hold me harder. God, she tastes incredible, and there’s still a touch of Eli’s cranberries and Oliver’s bergamot left on her lips. I hold her tighter to my chest, internally preening now that I know she’s covered in our scents.
I lose track of time, and it could be a few seconds or two days when Oliver clears his throat, pulling mine and Tori’s attention back to him. He’s on his feet again, a paper envelope in his hands. Right. The plan.
“What’s that?” she pants, turning in my arms to face Oli. My hands come to rest on the curve of her waist, compromising with my alpha, who just wants to encircle her in my limbs completely until it would take an entire team of anatomical experts to determine where she ends and I begin.
“Your Christmas present,” Eli says, then gets to his feet and straightens his hair and jacket. There’s a distinct smudge of dusty pink all over his neck that he’s not even making an effort to hide. I should be jealous, I realize, but I feel that same internal preening to see how thoroughly Tori marked him.
Tori pauses, shifting her weight onto her back foot. “I didn’t realize... I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts until Christmas morning.” Confusion paints her words.
“Well, this one is a little different,” Oli says as he holds out the envelope for her to take.
There’s only the sound of paper scraping against itself as Tori carefully opens the plain white receptacle, almost like one you’d pick up at a bank. But the slips of paper Tori pulls from inside aren’t cash. They are…
“Plane tickets? And are they for tonight? Where the fuck—” Tori’s shout makes me jolt, and she paces around, a hand on her forehead.
Oliver smirks. “Pack your swimsuit, princess. We’re going to Saint Martin.”
1. Translation (French): Hello, my queen. Did you miss me?