Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

“ W hat aren’t you telling us?” Ethan asks from where he’s perched on my bed.

Tears well in my eyes, and I just sob. It’s all been weighing on me so heavily, and I feel like I’m about to burst.

His eyes go wide, and he gently grabs my face.

“Shit, Sloane. I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s wrong?”

“I’m about to have everything, but I feel like I’m going to lose it all at the same time. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can tell me. We can work through this together.”

I try to catch my breath, and Ethan pets my hair and wipes my tears away.

“Fuck, I hate crying like this,” I say as I lick my lips and try to compose myself. “The night of the charity event, something happened.”

“Yeah, I very much remember our time in the bathroom.”

“Before that. I found out something. Something big.”

His brows furrow as he strokes the side of my face in a soothing way. It helps knowing I won’t lose Ethan.

“How would you handle it if I wanted someone else in the pack?” I ask him.

“Sweetheart, you’re an Omega. I might have never planned on being in a pack, but I went into this knowing you would need multiple partners. I’m just glad to be one of them. Fuck, you could have fifteen dudes, and I’d be grateful for any sliver of attention you gave me.”

I give him a watery smile and wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.

“Max is my scent match,” I whisper so softly I know he can’t hear me mumbling against his chest.

“What?”

“Max is my scent match,” I reply, saying it louder and wait for his reaction.

“Shit.”

“I scented him for the first time at the charity event.”

“Does he know?” he asks, petting my hair and holding me close. The pressure of his arms wrapped around me feels nice and is stopping me from spiraling completely.

“No… I mean, I don’t think so. I always wear deodorizers at work. I’m guessing he usually does too. I’m not sure why, but it probably has something to do with his brother. He must not have reapplied after the game and gone to the event.”

“That’s why you were so desperate in the bathroom.”

I make a groaning noise, and he squeezes me tightly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t. I could sense something was different but didn’t know what it was. Not going to lie, I was glad for it. You made me put my bullshit to the side, and it felt so good to finally have you. But it makes sense why you needed me so badly then.”

I nod against his chest, and I wish Bram was here. His rumbling chest against my face as Ethan stroked my hair, that would be the dream.

But now, Max is a part of the mix. Where does he fit in this fantasy?

“Bram doesn’t know?” Ethan asks, even though he knows the answer. I shake my head against his shirt, not worried about my tear stains.

“I tried to ask what the issue is between them, and he only doubled down on me staying away from him. I’m worried that when he finds out, he won’t be able to handle it. I can’t lose him, but I can’t let this thing with Max go either. I need them both, and they hate each other.”

He strokes my hair. “If it helps, I do think the hate is one sided. Max doesn’t even seem to really know why Bram hates him.”

“He told you that?”

“Yeah. You really think Max has no idea?” he asks.

“He’s never said anything or acted like I was his scent match. So I don’t think so. I just can’t figure out how to tell Bram. There are times on the phone where I’m about to say something, and then I just can’t. I don’t want to mess up his mindset before his games, and I think I’m just so scared.”

“Do you want to tell Bram before you talk with Max?”

“I think I have to. Bram is big on trust, and as much as I know Max deserves to know I’m his scent match, I can’t start anything without Bram knowing. But the idea of telling him has been making me sick to my stomach.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You’ve been keeping this all bottled up for too long. I’ve got your back; we’ll figure this out.”

“How do I tell him, Ethan? I’m in love with him, and I’m probably about to break his heart when that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“If he feels anything like I do, he’ll get over it. They’ll have to figure their shit out. You’re worth the minefield, Sloane.”

Well, that just makes me cry more.

“Can you tell him?”

“I can, but I think this needs to come from you. Do you think writing a letter would help?” he asks, and I breathe through my nose and nod.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea. Let me go get a pen and paper.”

Ethan strokes a hand down my back as I go to my desk and open the top drawer, grabbing one of my favorite pens before grabbing my notebook, and I spill all my feelings on paper.

It feels cathartic and freeing, and I’m able to process everything without being interrupted or sobbing.

I hand it over to Ethan to read, which he does twice.

“This is perfect. When are you going to give it to him?”

“Does it make me a coward to put it in his locker so he reads it when they get home in a few days?”

“No, I think that’s a good idea. He’ll have time to process before he reaches out.”

I fling my arms around his neck and squeeze him close.

“Thank you, Ethan. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Here’s to never finding out,” he says, squeezing me close.

For the first time in the last couple of days, it doesn’t feel like my world is going to come crashing down.

I don’t sleep, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. But I’ve got to swing by the stadium and drop off my letter.

I thought about dropping it off at his house, but what if he doesn’t check his mailbox for days? If I tape it to his locker, he won’t be able to miss it when they get back from their game.

There’s a few hours before they get home, and considering that no one else should be there, I don’t put much effort into my appearance.

I’m too fucking stressed to look cute.

Instead, I’m wearing sweatpants, a crewneck that has so much piling it should be tossed out, and my favorite pair of sneakers.

When I have to defrost my windshield, I contemplate every moment of my life, but somehow my anxiety lets me persevere.

It’s like I’m on autopilot the entire drive. But my shaky legs make me walk the distance to the locker room as I place the white envelope with his name on the front where he can’t miss it.

I stare at his name in my script, wondering if this really is a good idea or if I’m making something worse.

But before I can snatch it back, I hear male voices coming down the tunnel to the locker room.

Fuck.

I thought they were supposed to get back at three?

No way I can confront him now, and Max will be with them. I don’t have any deodorizers on.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I glance around and open the door to where the ice baths are and shut it behind me.

I take a seat in one of the swivel chairs and lean against the wall by the door. If anyone looked through the glass, they wouldn’t be able to see me.

I bite my nail, hating the way my stomach feels like it’s going to fall out of my ass. The need to throw up is just on the brink as I lean forward and rest my head on my knees.

This feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen and if I’m going to hurt someone I care about makes me want to disappear.

Why can’t they just get along? Why did my scent match have to be the person Bram dislikes the most?

Not that I’m upset about it being Max, which only makes me feel even more guilty.

I like Max; I think he’s handsome and kind. He’s been a great friend while I haven’t. He might not really be experienced with Omegas or understanding pack life. But deep down, I know that he would try, and he’s a good man.

How can two things be so true at once?

I want Max but also wish things weren’t so complicated.

The door creaks open, and when I glance over, it’s a wide-eyed Max Connery staring down at me.

He shuts the door behind him and looks at me like it’s the first time he’s actually ever seen me.

“Your scent. You’re…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He comes over and grabs me under his arms and clutches me to his chest.

“No fucking way,” he mumbles against my hair.

He isn’t masking his scent either. The fresh crispness floods my nose, and it’s like all the anxiety and fear from earlier disappears.

My scent match wants me.

Max is holding me like I’m some precious miracle, and my body can’t help but respond to how he makes me feel. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he shifts his hands so that he’s gripping me by my thighs.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his pretty blue eyes meeting mine.

It’s like something snaps between the both of us, and his mouth is on mine in an instant.

His lips are soft but demanding against mine as he takes a few steps and pushes my back against the wall.

I moan, and his fingers dig into my thighs.

My scent match wants me, and I feel drunk with the feeling.

Max’s lips leave mine only so that he can kiss and nip my throat. A deep rumble leaves his throat every time he scents me. If that wasn’t enough to let me know how he’s feeling, his long, hard length between my legs does.

There’s an overwhelming feeling of need rippling through me. While my scent match clearly accepts me, I need him to claim me.

Make me his so that I don’t have this empty feeling anymore. My Alpha will make things better.

He was made for me, after all.

I use the heels of my feet to tug down his waistband, and he sets me on my feet. His lips never leave my skin as he tugs down my sweatpants and panties. I step out of them, and he has me back in his arms again.

His cock glides between my pussy lips as I cover him in my slick.

“Just like that, baby. Fuck. I want to be covered in your scent and slick.”

Oh. I like that.

Max sucks on the side of my neck, and I almost feel like I could come from that alone. He’d just need to sink his teeth into me, and things would be perfect.

That sounds amazing actually.

I grab the back of his head and hold him against my throat as his hips shift, grinding against my body.

The head of his cock rubs against my clit and while it feels fantastic, I need my Alpha’s knot.

Nothing else will take away this ache.

“Need you. Please,” I tell him, and his hands slide more to my ass, spreading me apart.

He stops kissing my neck and looks down at me. Both of us still have our tops on.

Max licks his lips and swallows.

“Sloane, baby. What does this mean?” he asks.

“Alpha, please,” I reply.

This isn’t the time for talking. This is the time for fucking. His job is to make me feel better. I need him.

He swallows again like the reality of the situation is hitting him in the face.

“You’re really mine?” he asks.

There are no thoughts in my head right now besides the Alpha holding me. My scent match needs to stop talking and start thrusting.

“Yes. It hurts. Make it better,” I ask him, not caring how pathetic I sound.

“Okay, baby,” he says.

He holds me against the wall with one hand as the other fists his cock before pushing it deep inside of me.

“Fuck,” he shudders as he fills me completely.

His forehead presses against mine as he fucks me against the wall. The stretch is everything I wanted. In fact, I want more.

“I knew you were special,” he whispers before his mouth is back on mine.

He tastes perfect; everything about him is perfect. My scent match thinks I’m special and perfect. Is there a better feeling?

Apparently, there is as he pushes his knot deep inside of me.

A loud moan attempts to escape me, but he uses his hand to cover my mouth.

“Those sweet sounds are only for me now, baby. God, look at you. Fucking perfect. This pussy was made for me. You smell so goddamn good.”

My eyes roll back ever so slightly with the praise and the sensation. My thighs are shaking, and my nails are digging into his shoulders as I try to keep myself wrapped around his cock.

“Come on, baby, I want that slick dripping against the floor,” he says.

His knot swells, and I fall apart, my body pulsating against his length as my body shakes and my vision goes hazy.

He feels so good.

Everything feels so right as he spills inside of me.

I grab his neck, and he pants as he rests his face against mine, rocking his hips with what little he can, like he can’t get enough of me.

His forehead is against mine, and he pulls back, his brows furrowed. Max uses the wall to balance me as he rests the back of his hand against my forehead.

“Sloane? Are you sick?”

The back of my head thuds against the wall as I try to organize my thoughts. His scent is so consuming, and really, the only sensation that’s filling me is the stretch of his cock.

Definitely not sick, just very happy.

“No,” I whisper. “Good.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe me, and I’m about to convince him to let me rub my clit against his pelvis while we’re knotted when the door swings open.

A furious Bram glances over in our direction.

It’s like cold water is being splashed on me, but at the same time, I’m drowning in feelings I can’t decipher.

Bram just stands there for a moment in shock.

“Get the fuck out,” Max says, and I shake my head.

“No. Alpha. Stay,” I tell Bram, and he looks like he’s about to lose it.

His hands are balled into fists. He doesn’t speak, just breathes through his nose and walks and turns away.

The previously euphoric sensation fades away. I can’t run after him. I’m knotted to Max.

I rub my forehead.

Think rationally, Sloane.

“Sloane, what the fuck was that?” Max asks, glancing over at the door where Bram just left.

Tears fill my eyes as the reality sets in of what just happened and what’s about to happen.

Fuck.

“Call Ethan,” I manage to whisper, and Max looks at me, confused. But calls him anyway.

Thank God.

I clutch on to Max, holding him tightly, letting his scent calm this raging feeling of rejection and hurt.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and now, I don’t know what’s about to happen.

My heat is here, and everything is fucked.