21. Kallis
Kallis
“You can’t just say ‘fine’ when I ask you how the job is going!” Aspen yells as she serves the tennis ball.
It bounces hard off the asphalt, and I fling myself to the left to hit it back over the net, aiming for the far right of the court, my waist stinging.
I’ve come back to Philadelphia to see Aspen for our usual Sunday tennis match, though I had missed out on the past weeks because of away games.
She and her husband live directly between Aurum and Philadelphia, so it takes them both ninety minutes to travel to work.
Aspen is currently renting my house while I stay in Aurum for ease.
I prefer open courts, though the November air is an acquired taste.
“I don’t see why not,” I call as she quickly intercepts the ball and fires it back. “There’s nothing of note to report.” I’m not the best liar, but I hope she misses the awkwardness brimming inside me from the other side of the court.
Aspen and I grew close when I first interned at the hospital, but we became real friends when we both discovered our love of tennis. It’s a good way to keep fit and catch up, though I’ve never had news for her like this.
I don’t know how to share it with her without feeling like I’m going to curl up from embarrassment. I try to be calm and collected at all times, but even thinking about it is excruciating. Admitting it to her would make it even more real.
I’m also drained from seeing my parents last night.
There was a charity dinner with a number of influential business owners, and Father insisted I attend.
After creating a list of reasons why I couldn’t go, there were no options that wouldn’t make them dig deeper into what I was currently doing with my life.
And I would rather spend the day being treated like a doll to be dressed up and paraded around in front of alphas than have them interfere.
“Bee, be serious! You can’t just join a professional hockey team and not get even a drop of drama.”
I focus on the ball, using it as an excuse not to answer, but it doesn’t work for long.
Aspen has come to me with many problems over the years.
I’m not the best counsel, but I enjoy listening to her.
She has a way of speaking that makes everything that’s happened to her sound exciting, much like Artie.
The problems I discuss with her tend to stem from my parents or the outer family, so this is new territory for me.
“Well, I’m enjoying the sport?” I say, fishing for something to offer as I search for a way to admit I’ve come for more than just to update her on my research.
“That’s it?” she shouts as she hits the ball again. We have a nice volley going, and my smile grows as my body relaxes and I enjoy the game. It’s much less stressful than the consequences of softening in my alpha’s arms.
I shake my head as I dart after the ball, stretching out my arm, just hitting it with the top of my racket and returning it. The skin on my waist stings again, but I’m so used to the pain from my parents’ pokes and pinches that it no longer bothers me.
What’s more disturbing was my emotional breakdown when I parted with my parents after the dinner.
I have tolerated a wide range of situations throughout my life and wholly contained myself, but last night I was far too fragile.
I would usually only hyperventilate for ten minutes before carrying on with my evening, but I couldn’t function until the next morning.
My conclusion was that the three Bears had gone beyond shaking up my body.
I started thinking of them as stresses since Orso first bit me, and it was time to admit they were more than that.
“Yeah, they look fantastic when they smash into each other and get all angry and wound up! I bet you have loads of work!”
“You definitely have a different kind of appreciation for the sport than I do,” I say, and she bursts out laughing, missing the ball as it bounces off into the corner of the court.
It isn’t simply the way they push themselves when they play.
An energy draws me toward them when they are out on the ice.
I can’t stop my heart from racing; thrills run through my body whenever I see Orso cut into the opposing team, or Mathan and Artie’s determination as they track the puck like hungry predators.
I want that focus on me again, and the lone taste I experienced with them rocked my body so much that I now freeze every time they are around me because the tension and anticipation are almost too much.
It unnerves me how deeply they have affected me. I have to wonder if it’s from the rejected bite, rather than the common effect of a scent match.
“I think I’m just more aware of the finer things about alphas than you are.” She grins as she throws the next ball up and serves.
“They don’t actually get injured as much as one would expect. They seem to dodge and weave far more than in the recordings of their matches I’ve watched,” I say as I return it, and she intercepts it easily.
“Yeah, hubby mentioned that the guy’s style has changed, but they’re winning more, aren’t they?”
I nod as I use all my strength to return her volley.
We only had the court reserved for an hour, and then we’re scheduled for a business lunch and a tour of her husband’s new art installation, so I don’t think there will be time afterward to ask for her advice.
I didn’t question it before, but now I have no clue how her husband has time to create a studio’s worth of oil paintings along with taking care of their five-year-old daughter, Ameila, and working so hard coaching the Bears.
My nerves shake me badly enough that I return the ball at an awkward angle, but I still push through.
“I think I’ve met my scent matches,” I say just loud enough to hear myself as the ball travels over the net.
Aspen’s eyes go wide, and she trips. I’d hoped she hadn't heard me…
The ball whooshes past her and bounces off the chain-link fencing. The rattle reverberates in my ears as Aspen’s face suddenly goes blank. Seconds tick by, and I feel like I’m being crushed.
“Please say something. I can’t stand it when you’re silent.” I wonder if I should have stayed quiet since she’s not moving an inch.
One thing I love about Aspen is that we are polar opposites in many ways, and she’s one of the loudest people I’ve ever met. But her jaw drops, and her racket slips from her fingers and hits the floor.
“You fucking what?” she bursts out, and I flinch.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything…” But I can’t take it back now.
“No, just wait, hang on,” she gasps, scooping up her racket with a trembling hand. “Say that again.”
“My scent matches. I think… well… I don’t think, I know…” I dip my head, embarrassment creeping over me.
She yells as she runs at the net. “Oh my God, Bee! Bee! Bee!”
I know she wants to vault over it and hug me, but she stops right at the line, bouncing on her feet with the biggest grin on her face. “Bee, holy shit, what the hell happened? How did you meet them? How could you even keep this from me? Oh my God, this is so amazing!”
I don’t know which question to answer first. Thankfully, it’s not too overwhelming because I can keep my distance. If she smothers me in her cherry scent, I don’t think I’ll be able to reply, especially when she’s jumping up and down on the spot.
“It’s so hard not to hug you right now. This is the best news I’ve ever heard. At least tell me how you met them. Them! I’m going to go crazy if you don’t tell me how many there are! Are they all alphas? How old are they? Oh my God, are you going to join a pack?”
I blink quickly to try to keep up. My anxiety flares, and I need to move so I can sort my mind out. It’s why I chose now instead of at breakfast to tell her, because of the intensity of the conversation.
“Can we keep playing? I can’t concentrate with you looking at me like that.”
“Of course, totally. But you have to tell me every single detail of what happened. I don’t care if I have to kidnap you for a week; we’re going over this now.”
She can’t keep still as we return to our positions.
I lift the ball to serve and realize that something has already released inside me at her reaction. A smile traces my lips because I shouldn’t have doubted that Aspen would always be on my side. And that reassurance makes it easier to talk.
As we speak, my confidence grows. Every time I tell her some important detail—Orso biting me, Mathan’s tattoo, or Artie plunging his tongue into my pussy—she lets out a scream, which just makes me chuckle.
“Can I please just hug you?” she calls out. “Just a little one, that’s all.”
I nod shyly, and she rushes around the net toward me, dropping her racket by our feet as I rest my own against my calf. I’m scared she’s going to scoop me up like she does with her muscled husband, but she wraps me in her arms and pulls me into a gentle hug.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” she says as she gives me a quick squeeze, tart cherries sweeping around me. She goes to step back, but I hold onto her.
“I don’t know what to do, Aspen,” I murmur as I rest my chin on her shoulder, her tight brown curls tickling my face.
“You don’t need to know anything, Bee. A scent match isn’t one of those things you can plan twenty steps ahead like everything else you do in your life.”
We ease apart, and I find her beaming at me. Despite her overflowing energy, her comfort reminds me of Mathan’s softness.
Her fingers drop from my shoulders and down my arms until she’s clutching my hands in hers. “This is just so amazing. I’m so happy for you,” she repeats for the umpteenth time.
“I don’t see how matching to alphas who are going to transform my credentials into the title of ‘mate’ is amazing.
They are famous enough to overshadow me, their achievements outweigh mine in the eyes of the public, and they have hundreds or thousands of fans who won’t see me as anything more than their omega.
” I sigh, though it barely shows my level of frustration.
“I didn’t work this hard all my life to escape the box my parents created just to be forced back in by my scent matches. ”
“Bee,” she says. “Just the fact you’re even telling me this shows how much you’ve changed already.
” Aspen releases me, picks up my racket, and returns it.
“Listen, a mate isn’t someone who’s going to diminish you.
I obviously can’t promise you how it will turn out, but have you ever actually let anyone into your life like this?
I’m your best friend, and I swear there are a million things I don’t know about you.
” She cups her chin as she hums, thinking of her next words.
“My hubby and I aren’t scent matches, and I’ve never matched with an omega, so I can’t tell you I know how you feel.
But I’ve loved him since before we presented, and we’ve grown and shaped our lives together.
And letting someone into your life can be hella scary, especially three someones. And a bite just triples that.”
“I don’t need anyone else in my life, though. I was perfectly happy before I scent matched with them.”
Aspen twists her lips as she gives me a once-over.
“What is it?” I ask.
“What do you think about your heats?” My brow furrows in confusion at her sideways question, but I assume it is leading somewhere.
“They are an inconvenience. They definitely prevent me from fully committing to my job, and you know how much it annoys me that I have to surrender the lead on major surgeries because of them.” Five days off every three months could be devastating, depending on what patients were scheduled for operations or if there were particular cases that needed further examination.
It isn’t exactly a priority now that I have all the bruises and strained muscles I could ever want to treat at my fingertips.
But it’s also interesting how I’m disappointed I can’t be there for the team during a run of particularly intense games because of my heat in December.
“Okay, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” Aspen says. “So we’ve got this Boston trip mid-week, and then they’re playing home games next weekend, aren’t they?”
“What does that have to do with my impending doom?” I ask.
I’ve been in contact with various research facilities that have been conducting studies on CTE to speak with the doctors directly about how they are carrying out their tests.
It was surprisingly easy to arrange to visit a specialist at Harvard University for the two days we play in Boston.
And as soon as I mentioned the NHL, Aspen invited herself along.
“You’ll see! Let’s do a little experiment. It’s nothing tricky; it just might push your boundaries a bit.”
I don’t like the spark in her eye that tells me she’s plotting something. But I trust her judgment enough to hear her out.
“You love learning new things, don’t you?
Though I guess it’s usually in a controlled environment.
I know enough about those three alphas to say that you’re not going to stop going haywire over their different temperaments.
So, rather than trying to figure out the next steps and how it’s going to affect your life in the long run, why don’t you just take a week and see where things go with them?
Letting Artie kiss you or snuggling up to Mathan isn’t going to destroy your future and ruin all your plans.
Just test to see if you can still be you when you’re with them.
The real you, not the work-centered Bee who’s always busy buzzing around. ”
“What if I let go and I can’t go back?” Because even just the thought of growing any closer to them has me pulsing with need for their touch. But I’m certain I’ll crave more no matter how far I go with them.
“Just see what happens. If you enjoy yourself, then there’s no need to worry about it! And if it makes anything worse, come and see me after the weekend, and we can talk more.”
I want to disagree, but it feels like she’s giving me permission to act on my desires, as if I could shift some of the responsibility and release a fraction of the need that the three have created in me since we matched.
“Come on, let’s keep playing, and we can strategize about what to do next.
Or we can chat about it on our girls’ trip!
” Aspen says as she pats me on the shoulder, picking up her racket and twirling it in her hands as she happily dances back to her side of the court.
She’s acting like she has given me an easy answer when, in fact, I simply feel more confused.