Chapter 6
Carson
My head is pounding, my gut feels like it’s going to revolt, and I’m five seconds from puking all over the ice.
When Coach blows the whistle, I whimper in relief.
“Alright, team. Good practice. Enjoy your few days off before the next game. Behave. No drinking, no drugs, be on your best behavior."
“I swear to god, I’m five seconds from keeling over,” Reid groans as he skates over to me.
Sitting heavily on the bench, I remove my helmet, leaving my hair dripping with sweat. The cool air of the arena feels nice against my warm skin. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and take a few deep breaths.
“Give me a minute.” I groan. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”
“I told you drinking wasn’t a good idea.” Reid chuckles.
Rolling my head to the side, I crack open one eye. “There’s only so much I can take, okay? If I have to hear about Princess going on another date, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
The smile on Reid’s face falls. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbles, sitting down next to me.
He takes his helmet off and shakes out his sweaty hair. Droplets fly, hitting me in the face.
“Gross, man.” I shove at him, and he laughs.
“I think we should say something to her,” Reid says, letting out a heavy sigh.
“Yeah, because that’s going to go well. Hey, Princess, so, turns out we’ve had a thing for you for years, and because of our complicated lives, we never told you.
But the idea of you finding another pack makes us want to claw our skin off.
So, wanna be our Omega? Even though we have no idea if you have the same feelings for us, because we’ve never met in person and you probably think we’re some fifty-year-old men living in our parents’ basement? ”
Reid blinks at me. “Dude. Relax. It’s not that serious. I say we ask to start doing video chats. That way, we can all see what each of us look like. It will up our friendship game so we can open up more.”
“And what happens if she realizes who we are, how much money we’re worth, and even though she doesn’t have feelings for us, she wants us for our money and fame?” I ask.
“Do you really think she’d be like that? She’s never once asked us for help. Hell, she started streaming to make her own money. She’s a smart girl taking care of herself. She won’t want us for our money.”
“Maybe the only reason she didn’t ask us for help is because she doesn't know what our jobs are, or how much we make.”
His brows pull together, face setting in a deep frown.
“Why are you thinking of every bad outcome? Where’s the hope?
Where’s the guy from last night, the one who got shit faced drunk while playing Twisted Valley with his mic muted as he bitched about wanting to tell Princess to be ours, pick us, choose us? And all that bullshit.”
“That was drunk Carson, stupid Carson. The one who wasn’t thinking straight. Now I’m sober, Carson. Okay, more like hungover Carson, but still.”
“Stop referring to yourself in third person, please, it’s hurting my brain.”
Rolling my eyes, I continue. “What I’m saying is, we don’t know much about her. We fell for the side of her that she’s given us online. But we both know that's not who we really are. There’s so much more to all of us beyond the computer.”
“I’m not saying I don’t agree, but we’re obviously upset about the idea of losing our chance with Princess. So we either do nothing about it, let her move on with her life, and we do the same, or we at least try and take baby steps or some shit.”
“And what if we open ourselves up and she doesn’t feel the same way? Then we’ll lose our twelve-year friendship with her.”
“Maybe that’s a risk we have to take. If we do nothing, she’s going to stay the friend behind the screen. We’re going to find an Omega, start a pack, a life, and a family. We’re just getting started in our careers. At some point, we’re going to have to let go.”
“I don’t want to let go,” I grumble and look away. It’s been hard enough not getting to talk to Princess much in the last six years, I don’t think I can go without talking to her ever again. It feels like I’d be giving up a big part of my life.
“And what about Death? He’s part of our group, too. One of our best friends. Where does he play a part in this?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I like the guy, he’s chill. But we don’t know him. It’s been you and me our entire life. You are what matters. And Princess.”
“Shouldn’t we at least see what his feelings are for her, too? If everything works out, maybe we can all meet, and maybe he could join our pack. You never know.”
“I don’t know.” I grab my water bottle, taking a big drink. “I just don’t know.”
“Why don’t we think about it when you’re not hungover as hell, okay?”
“Fine.” I look over to him. “We should shower. You smell like ass.”
His lips twitch up. “You don’t smell any better.”
Reid and I grew up next door to one another and became instant best friends, meeting in kindergarten and keeping that friendship ever since.
He’s like a brother to me. As we got older, I knew I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. When we both presented as Alphas, we agreed that we’d form our own pack.
We went to college together, played on the same college hockey team, and when we got drafted for the KP, we pushed hard for the same team. The universe seemed to agree because we both were selected by the Scented Scorpions.
Life has been amazing ever since. We get to play our favorite sport for a living, travel together, and live together. It’s perfect.
As fun as it’s been, though, meaningless hookups just don’t do it for us anymore.
Yes, we have a job that takes up a lot of our time, and maybe it’s not the best time to find an Omega currently, but we still find ourselves searching for that special person.
The one we come home to when we’re done with work.
The one we spend our time off with. The one who sits in the crowd, cheering us on.
We want that, crave it even.
The only thing is, we both have had feelings for one of our best friends, PastelPrincess.
An Omega we’ve been playing online with for years.
Even after all this time, we’ve maintained these feelings for her.
Are we in love with her? No. Now that she’s started gaming more, what we feel toward her has sparked back to life, even grown.
I get where Reid is coming from. How do we know if it’s going to work out if we don’t try? If we don’t at least try pushing things beyond just chatting and playing online?
My hesitation is due to this whole image of her that I’ve built in my head. I’m afraid that if we pull off the blanket, I might be crushed by what's underneath, shattering the fantasy I have.
Last night, she was online, playing with us. She filled us in on her mother’s meddling, pushing an uptight pack on her with all these dates, and it’s caused me to panic.
She doesn’t want to be with them. She’s made that known enough, but what if she does end up with them by some chance? And if not them, another pack that her mom sets her up with?
I know she’s streaming to make money and move out on her own. I’ve been so damn tempted to make a Streampunk account and throw my money at her to speed up the process.
I haven’t yet because what if she found out? It could cause issues if she knows we were interfering.
She’s not my Omega. It’s not my job to take care of her. Yet, I find myself really wanting to. I know Reid does too.
We’re just finishing up in the locker room, freshly showered and ready to go home for a few days off, when we see Marilyn, our PR manager, waiting outside.
“Just the Alphas I was looking for.”
I give Reid a look. He glares at me, warning me to bite my tongue.
I know what she wants, and we’ve been dreading it.
She wants the players to attend more public events to help build our team's reputation. While I understand where she’s coming from, charity events and galas are not for me.
I hate wearing a suit. It’s bad enough we have to wear them for work.
I don’t want to wear one in my free time.
There’s also the fact that I hate small talk and chatting with people who are dull as hell, or only care about money.
Don’t get me wrong, I love money, and I have a lot of it, but it’s not everything in life.
“Marilyn.” Reid gives her his best good boy charm. “How’s our favorite PR manager?"
She lifts a brow. “Cut the crap, boys, you know the deal. Every member of the team is supposed to be attending public events. However, out of all our players, you two have gone to the least.”
“We went to that charity a month ago,” I point out.
“Yes. That was your one and only event. An event where you two hid in the back corner for most of the night, only speaking to each other.”
“We still went,” I grumble.
“You both need to put in more effort. That is why I’m sending you both to LA for a charity gala, one that the Scented Scorpions brand has donated to. You will attend and show your support. Talk and mingle with the heads of the charity and then report back to us.”
I’m about to tell her I’d rather wear Steven’s sweaty socks than go, when Reid slaps a hand over my mouth.
“We’d be happy to.” Reid smiles.
I shoot him a glare, tempted to lick his hand. Lies. We would not love to. I would not love to!
“Perfect. Tickets are already purchased. You have two hours to go home and pack before you need to be at the airport. The event is tomorrow, but by the looks of you two, I think a day's rest beforehand is needed.”
“Tomorrow?” My eyes bug out, mumbling against Reid’s hand.
“You got it,” Reid says.
Marilyn eyes us up for a moment before letting out a small huff. “Don’t disappoint me, boys!” she calls after while walking away, her heels clicking on the floor as she goes.
“What the hell, man?!” I growl at Reid. “I don’t want to spend my only days off, for like the next two weeks, going to some stuffy event.”
“It’s one event. It’s not going to kill us. We go, we talk, we do what we’re told, then we come back. If we put up a fight, then we’re only going to draw attention to ourselves for not being team players. And we are team players, so we suck it up.”
“I hate you,” I grumble.
“I hate you too.” He chuckles, ruffling my hair.
“If you weren’t my best friend, I’d abandon you at the airport and make you go alone.”
“And because you’re my best friend, you’re going to come with me and have a good time. We can still enjoy our time off. Only it will be in LA. I’ll ask if we can spend a few days there, extend our stay after the gala, and change our flights.”
“Fine. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to really enjoy Hollywood. I want to dress up incognito and play happy tourist."
“Whatever floats your boat, my man,” he chuckles. “Now, let’s go pack.”
Okay, so maybe it’s not going to be so bad. The room they booked for us is nice. It’s hard to be mad about a penthouse suite.
The flight was fine as well, and first class was a nice touch. With practice getting out at eight and the flight being around five hours, it’s well past midnight, and I’m still suffering from a hangover.
“Let’s get to bed. We can sleep in. Marilyn sent all the details over in an email. It’s not until seven, so we have most of the day to relax before we need to get ready.”
“Good. Sleeping in was what I was most looking forward to on our days off.” I throw myself backward on the plush bed. “I’m taking this room.” I groan as my body starts to sink into the memory foam mattress.
“Don’t go to sleep yet. You still have to get settled.”
“I am settled,” I mumble, eyes heavy with sleep already.
“Alright then, I'll hang up your suit, I guess.” He sighs.
“Thanks, Mom.” I lift my arm up in a wave.
“Lazy fucker,” he mutters.
I groan, rolling over in pain as something hits me in the balls. “What the fuck was that for?” I wheeze as my balls throb.
“I’m not your mother, asshole. Someday you’re going to have to learn to clean up after yourself.”
“That’s what our maid is for.” Lifting my head, I shoot him a murderous glare. “I’m going to get you back for this.”
He grabs my suit, hanging it in the closet before flipping me off, grinning like an idiot. “Night, fucker. Try not to cream your pants again tonight.”
“Oh, fuck off. It was one time. It felt real!”
He laughs and laughs, making me want to get up and kick his ass.
I don’t, though, because I’m too comfortable. I don’t even want to change out of my clothes.
But that, I do. Struggling to get my jeans and shirt off, I leave my boxers and socks on and grab the blanket, rolling myself like a burrito, not bothering to get under it.
I’m going to try to make the best of this trip. Eat good food, see a show, and do some sightseeing. It’s an event in LA, so I’m sure it will be a lot better than the other one we went to in Boston.
Here’s to hoping tomorrow night is worth the hours I’ll never get back.