Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

I have the bottom half of the Finnegan costume on as Sloane meticulously lint brushes some of the orange hair and makes sure everything with the jersey is in place.

She has a lint roller, brush, tape, scissors, and a needle and thread.

“Sloane, sweetheart, I think it’s perfect.”

She pauses for a moment, probably pondering the pet name, before taking her small scissors to the patch on the new jersey and cutting off the tiniest thread.

“It is now,” she says, brushing down the orange fur. “You’re going to crush it. I can picture it now: Finnegan the Fox holding a bunch of kittens for adoption. It’ll blow up online, and everyone will be obsessed with you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I reply.

“Why not?” she asks, putting away her little kit.

“I mean, no matter what, it will be Finnegan getting big, not me. I’m just the Beta under the mask.”

She tilts her head at me and gives me a shake of disapproval.

“Ethan. I’m going to hold your hand when I say this,” she says, grabbing my hand. “You’re fucking hot and talented. Acting like you’re not isn’t cute.”

She drops my hand, and I blink at the woman before me.

“You think I’m hot?” I ask, clearly my brain only picking up that part.

“Come on, Ethan. You have the tattoos, the dark hair, you’re super sweet and athletic. Yes, I think you’re hot.”

The fact is, I didn’t think I had a shot in hell with Sloane. She deserves a pack who can buy her things and take care of her. I work at a diner, and I’m a fucking mascot part-time.

Sloane sighs.

“I’m really getting tired of asking people to ask me on dates, you know,” she says, and I swear I’m having an out-of-body experience.

“Do you want to do something together after the event?” I ask, having no clue why she would even want to go out with me. Sure, she’s stated she’s my friend and that she’s helping me, but a date… with me, a Beta by all means who doesn’t have his shit together?

“I thought you’d never ask. That sounds great,” she says with a smile, handing me the fox’s head and helping me secure it to the body.

She messes around with the head a few times until she’s satisfied. I’m still mystified and wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to get through this event knowing tonight is my shot at making a move on the girl who is well out of my league.

“Alright, let’s go unveil Finnegan the Fox,” she says, taking out her phone as “What Does The Fox Say” plays on the radio and we head outside to the ribbon cutting.

Kids are cheering and people are laughing as I bust out my best moves, doing a few flips and cartwheels before getting to the ribbon itself.

Sloane takes the mic and smiles at the crowd.

“Hello and welcome to the grand opening of the New Haven Humane Society. I’m Sloane Applegate, daughter of the head coach of the New Haven Foxes. I brought Finnegan the Fox here to celebrate as well as some of our amazing players. Please give a warm welcome to Nix Ahonen, Max Connery, and your fearless captain, Eli Beckford.”

The crowd cheers as the three players come stand next to me.

Sloane hands me the scissors as the director of the new building comes up and gives a speech before thanking us, and I cut the ribbon. Sloane films everything between me and Max, making sure that we’re together and separate, taking pictures with kids and animals alike.

I’m super dramatic with the kids playing games, and I even hold a few babies. I’m proud to say, not a single one of them cries in my orange furry arms.

It’s announced over the speaker that Max Connery has paid the fees for the first one hundred animals to be adopted, and the crowd goes wild, more and more people coming up to him to take pictures.

It’s no easy feat to make a brand new traded player with a past likable, but somehow they are pulling it off.

“Okay, I need to get a shot of you holding some kittens, and do some more backflips. Oh, and do that cute little thing with your hips again,” Sloane tells me.

Thank fuck she can’t see how red and sweaty I am under this suit.

I do the dance and some flips, kids are cheering, and I feel like I’m almost back in high school again. It’s not that I miss high school itself, but cheerleading was something that always made me happy.

This version of Finnegan fills that void. No, this version of me fills that void.

When we get into the kitten room, Sloane thinks it’s hilarious to grab two orange kittens and make someone take our picture.

“We’re all orange, get it?” she says, and I laugh at her holding my arms out for the cats.

One is sleepy and lazy in my arms as the other one uses the fur of my suit for purchase and climbs up on top of the mascot head. Sloane gets every moment of it on camera, and I can tell she’s pleased with the amount of footage and content she got tonight.

I hand her the one kitten, and I have to get down on my knees so she can pry the other one off my head.

“Mr. Finnegan,” a small voice says, approaching us, and I stay on my knees.

I tilt my head to let the small child know that I’m listening. Rule number one of being a mascot is you don’t speak and ruin the illusion.

“My daddy loves the Foxes, but I love you. Can you sign my jersey?” he asks with his little lisp. He can’t be older than four, he’s wearing a Foxes shirt, and he hands me a Sharpie with the cap on.

Sloane sniffles, leaning over and unclasping the Sharpie, helping put it securely in my hand as I sign his shirt. Sloane pulls out her phone, taking a few videos and pictures, and hands the mother her card.

“Send me an email and I’ll make sure you and your family get seats to a home game this year,” she says.

“That is so kind, thank you so much. I also think it’s amazing you’re working as an Omega. I saw the article on Hockey Fanatics about you and your father working together,” the mother says, seeming in awe of Sloane.

It must be universal, then.

I can tell Sloane is holding in a grimace over the mention of the article. I also read it, and it did not shed a good light on Sloane. It read as an opinion piece on nepotism and Omegas in the workplace. But Sloane takes it in stride, smiling at the woman and the little boy.

“My daddy said Omegas shouldn’t work. But you work with Finnegan the Fox. That’s the best job ever,” the little boy says.

Sloane bites her lip before nodding her head and smiling. “It is the best job ever. And Omegas can do whatever they put their mind to.”

“I’m so sorry,” the mother whispers to Sloane who waves her off.

“Make sure you send me an email, and we will make it happen,” she reiterates.

I’m about ready to shed the mascot suit as Max and Eli come strolling in. They look friendly with each other, which isn’t surprising. Eli Beckford is kind to everyone.

I rip the head off, taking a breath of fresh air. Sloane glances at me, and I wonder if I look like a sweaty mess. But that can’t be cause I swear I can smell the faintest hint of peaches. There’s no way I have this Omega perfuming. No way. Besides, I haven’t really been able to smell her since the start of this new season.

“Wow, Sloane. You did an amazing job,” Eli tells her. Both of the men halt; can they smell her scent too? Or am I delusional? I can’t smell anything now, so I must have imagined it.

Pure masculine pride rips through me as I give a shit-eating grin at Max.

“Thanks. Honestly, Liz did a lot of work. I just took over for her.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You crushed it,” Max says, slinging an arm over her shoulder casually. Is this motherfucker trying to put some claim on Sloane?

Eli notes the motion but doesn’t comment.

“I’ll see you tonight for our flight to Dallas. Gotta spend some time with the wife and kids before we head out,” Eli says, waving us all off.

“Getting casual with the captain, are we?” Sloane says, bumping her hip against Max’s leg.

“He’s actually pretty fucking nice.”

“Speaking of nice, your donation was great, and the rally towels were a good call.”

“Thank you,” Max says, his cheeks heating. “I appreciate you for thinking of me to join the event and show people I’m not a complete dick.”

“Key word being complete ,” I toss in, and the large Alpha narrows his eyes at me.

Sloane sighs. “I got a lot of great videos. I’ll be posting throughout the week. I was thinking about another way you could help and also improve your image,” she says.

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to hold a fundraiser for Liz’s husband. See if we can’t offset some of their costs.”

“I’m there,” he says. He leans down and kisses the top of Sloane’s head almost absent-mindedly, taking them both by surprise. “Uh, yeah. Well… I got to go get ready for the game. It was good seeing you both,” he says, clearly feeling awkward.

I’m glad I’m not the only one.

“Did he just kiss your head?” I ask her.

“Yeah, for the second time,” she says a little wistfully as we watch his large ass retreat out of the building.

“The second time?”

Sloane waves me off. “Some Alpha at the diner was being aggressive with me.”

I hold the head of the fox against my hip.

“Who was it? I’ll make sure they don’t come back again.”

“It’s not a big deal. I can handle myself. Plus, Max was there anyway.”

I nod my head, still not liking it one bit. “Let me go change, and we can head out.”

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you out front.”

As soon as I get to the back, I immediately regret not bringing better clothes to wear, but how was I supposed to know that Sloane fucking Applegate was actually going to give me the time of day?

I slide up my khakis and toss on the gray hoodie I’ve had for years, making sure I properly store the mascot costume, before going outside and looking for Sloane.

She’s sitting next to the same boy who had me sign his shirt. I look around for his mother and see her animatedly speaking on the phone.

“My daddy doesn’t like cats,” the boy says sadly.

Sloane looks frustrated but is able to keep her thoughts about this kid’s shithead father to herself. The man is clearly a huge selfish prick.

“That has to be hard when you like cats,” she says.

“The hardest. I just want one so bad.”

I come over and step behind the bench; the kid looks me up and down, completely unimpressed. Apparently, Finnegan is hot shit. Meanwhile, I’m just some asshole standing behind a park bench.

“This is my friend Ethan,” Sloane tells him. “This is Harrison. His mom is trying to convince his dad to let him get a kitten,” Sloane says.

I look around, wondering why she just left her kid with Sloane, even if she is only a shouting distance away.

“I wasn’t allowed to get a pet either,” I tell him, and he finally takes an interest in me.

“Was your dad mean too?” he asks, and I watch as Sloane attempts to stifle her emotions down.

“I had a foster dad. He was allergic, and we didn’t have enough space. Maybe there’s a reason.”

“Maybe,” he sighs.

“That’s a pretty sick Finnegan the Fox signature you got there,” I tell him, and he smiles.

“Miss Sloane and Finnegan invited us to come see a game,” he says enthusiastically.

“You know, Miss Sloane is great at her job. I bet we can get you your own stuffed Finnegan the Fox to take home.”

“You mean it?”

“Totally, little man,” I reply, and he looks proud of himself as his mother comes back to the bench.

“I’m sorry about that. Harrison, sweetie, let’s head home. I’ll make sure to email Miss Applegate as soon as I get a moment. Thank you again,” she says, grabbing her son’s hand as they head to their car.

“You were sweet with him,” Sloane says.

I shrug my shoulders. “I had a lot of younger foster siblings,” I say, waving her off. “Do you have a car here?” I ask, and she points at a small little red car. “Do you mind if we pick it up later?”

“Not at all,” she says as we head over to my ancient truck.

I open the passenger door, putting the suit in the backseat, before helping Sloane get in the car. When I get in the driver’s seat, she looks over at me.

“So what should we do?”

I turn to her, realizing I can’t take her anywhere fancy. But I think back to Harrison. He wasn’t looking for anything fancy. He just wanted to be seen.

I’m going to show Sloane I see her.

“How are you on roller skates?” I ask her, and a wide grin takes over her face as I hightail it out of the parking lot.