12. Spencer
As soon as the words are out of Oliver’s mouth, all the color disappears from Tori’s face, and her body locks up. He’s still talking about how long they’ve tried to think of other solutions, and how they hope she understands where they’re coming from. But it’s as if Tori’s brain has checked out and is halfway back to New Orleans. I take a deep breath, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as soured sugar hits me.
“Oli, let go,” I snap, eyes not leaving Tori’s face.
He stops mid-sentence and growls, tightening his arms around Tori’s chest. She is still a thousand miles away, and I’m not sure what I can do to bring her back. I don’t want to punch my teammate, but I will. But then I think for a moment, a long moment when the smell of rotten tea left out in the sun invades my nose and makes my heart race in all the wrong ways. The solution hits me.
“ Go to the kitchen, omega ,” I bark, the strain in my chest uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve barked at anyone, let alone an omega. But it does the trick. Tori starts fighting against Oli’s embrace, her little whimpers tearing at my insides.
“Let her go, Oli. She’s going to hurt herself if you don’t,” Eli says, turning a pleading look onto his co-conspirator.
With one more growl, Oli finally relents, and Tori is out of his lap as if she was spring-loaded. As soon as she’s put the island between herself and us, the compulsion fades, making her slump over the counter, resting her weight on her forearms. Movement out of the corner of my eye has me out of my seat and stepping in front of Oli, our chests touching as we stare each other down.
“That was a dirty trick, Black,” he snarls, though I’m not sure I see any real heat behind his amber eyes.
“Well, one of us has to take care of her, and it sure as shit wasn’t going to be you.” I’m not backing down in the slightest.
“Will you two stop it?”
I whip around as Tori’s voice reaches us, the flat drone like she’s trying not to cry making me uneasy. She’s still not looking up, and I can’t see her face anymore. Her body language is telling, though. Tight shoulders, shifting from side to side. Discomfort, anxiety.
“You don’t have to decide now, princess,” Oli persists, and I growl again. He needs to back off before I pay him back for the punch he gave me during the hurricane.
Tori shakes her head, and I start to walk toward her, but Oli is right behind me. I shoot a heated glance at Eli, telling him with my eyes to get his lover under control before I have to. The Swede nods and gets to his feet, grabbing Oli’s forearm and holding him back as I close the distance to Tori.
Her inhales and exhales are deliberate, like she’s counting them out as a coping mechanism. I lean sideways, trying to look at her face before I proceed, but the curtain of her golden hair has fallen forward. Carefully, I hook a finger into it and draw it back, tucking it behind her ear.
“What’s wrong, sugar? Talk to me,” I whisper, resting my hand on her upper back, trying for reassurance rather than entrapment.
“I’m so fucking stupid,” she mutters back, though I’m not sure if she’s speaking to me or herself.
“Why do you think you’re stupid?” My brain is running through years of my mother’s informal therapy sessions with me, trying to pick the best lines for the moment. Don’t invalidate the feeling, just get to the root.
“I fucked up, Spencer. I fucked up so bad. And it was so fucking stupid.” Her voice cracks.
Not able to stand it a moment longer, I move my hand from her back to her face, placing one finger under her chin to turn her gaze to me. My heart leaps into my throat as I see the tears lining the edges of her two-toned blue eyes. I swallow hard. All the worst-case scenarios are flying through my thoughts, and I’m not sure what I want to be true.
“What’s wrong, sunshine? Maybe we can help?” Eli offers, ever the optimist.
Tori shakes her head, straightening up only to press her hands over her face and shake her head so hard her hair whips at my arms.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t... I don’t know if this can be fixed, or if we can even do this,” she nearly sobs.
“ Victoria, breathe. Just take a few deep breaths ,” Oli barks, a true alpha bark.
A shiver runs down my spine, the force of his dominance making my chest expand even though his order wasn’t directed at me. For Tori, she’s breathing through tears, and it seems to be working. We’re silent for several agonizing moments, until Tori seems to get herself back under control. She doesn’t lower her hands, but at least the panic seems to have faded. I glance around to find something, anything that can help.
“Let’s sit at the table, and we can talk this through,” I suggest, resting my hand lightly on Tori’s shoulder.
She nods after a heartbeat, and something in my chest loosens. I expect her to go to the dining room, but instead, she turns and heads out onto the patio, pulling out one of the chairs that surround the outdoor dining table. I follow right behind, taking the seat next to her at the rectangular table, forcing Oli and Eli to sit across from us. Amber eyes glare at me, but he can shove it.
“What has you bent out of shape, Tori?” Eli asks, his tone gentle and genuine.
With a sigh, Tori rubs her face to clear the tear tracks on her cheeks before sniffing. “I didn’t want to have this discussion at all, if I could avoid it. But at the bare minimum, I didn’t want to ruin our Christmas,” she says, almost deliberately not answering the question at hand.
“Deflecting isn’t helping, Tor,” I interject, hoping my tone is more teasing than chastising, but I’m not sure it lands.
Tori sighs again, nodding, but then she goes quiet. She really doesn’t want to talk about this, it seems.
“Did you sleep with someone outside of the three of us?” Oli blurts, like the question came out involuntarily.
Tori looks up then, her brow crumpled and nose wrinkled. “No! And why the fuck would that be a problem?”
“It’s not, I guess, but you’re not giving us a lot to go off of, princess,” he fires back, not pulling his verbal punches.
Tori’s eyes narrow as she glares at Oliver. “You guess?” she repeats, hackles raised.
Oliver goes to open his mouth, but Eli cuts in with a surprisingly deep warning growl. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him make an aggressive sound in the entire time I’ve known him. Oli is stunned enough to stop talking, allowing Eli to turn his attention to Tori.
“Tori, you have every right to do whatever you want with whomever you choose. We would have liked to know ahead of time, but that’s something for us to talk about later. Right now, if something like that did happen, then—”
“Why are you so quick to assume I’ve fucked someone else?” Tori throws back.
I share a look with Eli and Oli, and I see the same thing I’m thinking reflected back at me. I’m not blind or stupid, and I’ve seen the way Coach looks at Tori. If she admitted to sleeping with Logan, none of us would be surprised.
“You’re doing an awful lot of deflecting again, princess,” Oli says as he leans forward toward her.
Tori flinches back, and I snarl, halfway out of my seat before Tori’s hand clasps my wrist.
“No, he’s not wrong. I just...don’t know how to explain this. I didn’t sleep with anyone else, or anything like that. It’s…about my job…” she trails off like she’s speaking to herself again as she casts her eyes onto the glass surface.
Eli opens his mouth, but I give him a subtle shake of my head. We could ask her every question in the book until the sun comes up, but I doubt we’ll be able to get a straight answer out of her that way. Instead, I want to let the silence do the heavy lifting. It shouldn’t take long, and then we can--
“My boss is retiring, and he picked me to take over when he’s gone,” Tori says in a rush.
Works every time.
“That’s great, Tori!” Eli exclaims, perking up.
She winces and shakes her head. “It’s really not. He made it very clear that me and my reputation need to be squeaky clean. No scandals or HR violations that the media could use to tarnish the team’s public image. And I didn’t tell him that we”—she stops and gestures in a circle with her finger to all of us— “are a thing.”
“So we tell him,” Oli says simply.
Tori lets out a frustrated huff. “It’s not just that I didn’t tell him. He straight up asked me to my face if there was anything he should be worried about, and I told him there wasn’t. To go back on that would be admitting the lie, which very well could cost me my job, if the HR violation doesn’t take me out first.”
We all pause, not sure how to respond to that. I don’t want Tori to give up the thing she clearly loves, but for a brief moment, I could picture our pack, and I still can’t believe how happy it made me. I don’t like that Oli is doing this to cover up his sexuality, but that is a different battle for another day. Is this bigger than one job?
“What if we went to HR and started the process of making this above board?” Eli suggests, trying to think his way out of this.
Again, Tori shakes her head. “I would more than likely end up being removed from position and shoved somewhere away from daily interaction with the team. And that’s if I get to keep my job at all. I’m really good at what I do, and I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to give it up.”
“Could you just tell him you don’t want the promotion? That Demetrius needs to pick someone else?” Oliver presses, words tight.
With my instincts sitting up to take notice, I narrow my eyes at them. I don’t like where this line of questioning is going. Tori seems to be picking up on it as well, at least based on how she squeezes my wrist and scoffs.
“No. You’re not hearing me. Dee could fire me for lying to him when I accepted the position if we go public. HR could fire me for not filling out the paperwork. Almost every way you slice it, there’s a high probability that I’m going to lose my job for you,” she says, more of the familiar heat in her voice.
Oli opens his mouth to argue, but I growl in another warning, drawing his attention.
“What? What’s your problem?” he snaps harshly.
I pause before I answer, and I’m glad I do. There’s hurt in his eyes, pain pulling at the edges of his face. Softening, I turn my hand over to thread my fingers between Tori’s as I look at her.
“If your job wasn’t an issue—and before you cut me off, I know it is, but I’m asking a hypothetical question,” I start, speaking louder as Tori opens her mouth. Her jaw snaps closed hard enough for me to hear her teeth clack together, and she slumps back slightly. “If your job wasn’t an issue, would you want to form a pack with them? And don’t just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. Really consider it.” There’s no judgment in my voice as I finish.
For a split second, I think Tori’s going to do just that: spit out the answer her head has lined up. But then she stops and looks down at the table, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. I can practically hear the gears turning in her head, even as my mind drifts off into a fantasy, a world where we could have our cake and eat it too. Tori could keep kicking ass as the social media manager for the Mystic, and we would play every game under her watchful eye, pointing up at the press box every time we scored for her. Then we would go home and be together, living out our dreams by each other’s sides. We could get a dog, and maybe we’d buy a bigger house with a backyard big enough for a good game of fetch and a pool.
“In this imaginary world where I don’t have my amazing career that I’ve worked so hard to get good at and prove myself as competent in a male-dominated space, I... I think I would want it. To be in a pack. With you. All of you,” she says, speaking in fits and spurts, like she doesn’t want to say it out loud.
But her pink flush betrays her long before her scent does. The sweetness of her essence has returned, the magnolia notes growing stronger, as if the flowers are blooming right beside me. Oli lets out a long exhale, like he was holding his breath the entire time she was silent. Eli grins and reaches out to take Tori’s other hand. She looks up at him, and my heart squeezes painfully at the vulnerability etched on her gorgeous face.
“If you want this, and you want this”—Eli pauses to look at me before returning his gaze to Tori— “then we can make it work. We’ve got time. None of us are being shipped out, and your boss isn’t retiring tomorrow. We just need to figure out the details and take it step by step,” he says, his smooth words reassuring even to my ears.
Tori doesn’t move at first, but her eyes are distant again. We’re all quiet, and even the waves soften their crashes to whispers as we wait. But the longer we wait, the more Tori seems to shrink in on herself.
“I need to think,” she mutters after an agonizing minute.
And without another word, she gets up and walks away, closing the door to her bedroom with a slam.