Page 5 of Slick Handling

Once it was settled that we were going to be a pack she had been furious with Vaughn, trying to figure out where she belonged with us. McKinley had been kind with her and tried to explain how we worked, but she didn’t like that we all worked together. Terry had been livid when Vaughn decided to continue going to school. She wasn’t going to have the free ride she was looking for.

Sleeping with his dad and getting pregnant with his sibling wasn’t exactly the revenge that we had expected though.

My mind is whirling with the pack dynamics and what having a stranger living with us is going to feel like. This is the first time we’re all in our own home off campus. We had lived together in the hockey house for the last two years together. Now we were in a place that we picked out furniture for and painted together.

I bought the house for cheap with my signing bonus. I figured it was close enough that the guys could still get to school without worry and when we were ready to move on we would be able to flip it for a profit.

There are a couple of extra rooms in the house. Only one is set up as a guest bedroom because of McKinley and his brood of a family who comes to visit. I don’t know how he will feel about putting her in the room that usually hosts an assortment of his family. I guess I can set her up in my office. There’s a couch there now that she can crash on until a bed can be delivered.

This is not how I saw my Thursday going.

I arrive at the gate just as people start coming out. With no idea what this person is supposed to look like, I scroll my phone to try and find her name in the text thread with my mother. I’m frowning when I see that my mother only sent the flight information to me, and not the name of who was going to be staying with me.

Pulling my hat down further on my head, not wanting to be recognized by anyone in the airport, I scan the people like it will somehow identify this person. It’s easy to spot the designations by how they hold themselves or their scents.

Nothing clicks with the people exiting the gate.

Back to my phone I go, thumbs tapping the screen asking my mother for a picture or at least a name so I know who I’m going to be bringing home with me.

I see the dots come up as she starts to reply but suddenly I get distracted.

A scent hits mehard.

It’s cherries and something lemony but sweet, almost like a Shirley Temple. It fills the air around me and makes me look around, trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. That scent is so sweet and strong that it can only belong to an Omega.

Sure enough, she pops out of the crowd with frizzy curly hair hanging in two braids down the side of her face. They’re tied off with red ribbons that remind me of her cherry scent. Dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, white tennis shoes and a white t-shirt that is rising up to show off the cutest bit of skin of her stomach. It’s completely impractical for the freezing cold weather outside, not that the sweet Omega seems to notice.

She hikes her backpack up her shoulder, eyes looking round and then down at her phone.

What sort of person leaves an Omega at an airport waiting for them? They should be here gathering up the cherub and bringing her to safety. Or at least putting something on her to lower her scent.

No one blocks scents anymore. It makes people uneasy when you smell someone and there is nothing but chemicals blocking their scent. Alphas usually have a deodorant that is a blocker for us when we sweat. It helps keep us a little more in check. Omegas usually wear something that masks their scents, a little bit, so that people aren’t drooling over them in public.

Much like I am trying and failing not to do.

My phone buzzes, making me look down and giving me something to do other than stare at the Omega that is in front of me like a lighthouse beacon welcoming me home.

I remind myself again that I am in my rookie season of professional hockey and need to focus on that. I need to save and build a home that is fitting for my Omega. Give her a place that is more comfortable than a rundown Victorian.

My mother has finally sent a name to me..

“Hi, I’m Clover Lynn. You must be Apollo Mathers. You look so much like Gracie.” My eyes land on the Omega standing in front of me.

Close enough now that I can see the way her blue eyes are shining under those long black eyelashes of hers. A little watery, rimmed red, and puffy like she had been crying lately. I can only smell her sweet scent, tinged a bit with something like fear around her. And I can see the way her smile is fake and a little broken.

Turns out Gracie’s friend isn’t an Alpha after all. Looks like I’m going to be bringing an Omega home with me.

Shit.

CHAPTER 3

CLOVER

Sometimes, I cry so much that I throw up. Which I had done twice, on the airplane ride. It became such a problem that they ended up moving me to First Class and giving me a glass of champagne, hoping that the alcohol would soothe my nerves.

They didn’t even card me!

The two flight attendants took turns sitting with me. Holding my hand and soothing me. One of them, Matilda, was an Alpha and asked if it would help if she purred for me for a little bit. I had declined and she brought me another cup of champagne to have instead.

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