“Nilsen said it to me in the car. He already knew. If he pieced it together, I’m imagining more people on the team did.”
“Do they know specifically what they gave me?” I ask.
“They don’t, but now I’m concerned if you were given something more.” Piper taps her thumb on my knuckle. “A few years ago, Charlotte was drugged by the guys’ manager. It set off her heat and made her disoriented. Could that have been the goal?” she asks, looking around. I can tell how angry this train of thought makes Alexi and Piper both.
“All I know is I’m going to kill whoever did this to you, honey,” my mother says, lightening the mood.
“When can I leave?” I ask.
“I’ll find out,” Piper says, leaning forward and kissing the side of my head.
Alexi moves and takes her place holding my hand. Max watches with… jealousy? No, there’s no fucking way Max is jealous of me.
“Did we really win the Cup?” I ask, still feeling confused.
“We did,” Alexi says plainly.
“I ruined the celebration.”
“You didn’t ruin shit,” he says, pushing back my hair and kissing me in the same place as Piper.
“God, you’re all so cute,” my mom beams, and I shake my head.
“Mom, I’ll call you as soon as we know something.”
She purses her lips but looks over at my large Alpha and sighs. “Fine, I need to go find George anyway.” My mom kisses my cheek, being careful of my nose, before pointing in my face. “If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you myself,” she says before kissing me again. She gives Alexi’s arm a squeeze before leaving.
“Can I talk to my brother?” Max asks, looking at Alexi and not me.
Alexi looks down at me, and I give him a nod. He squeezes my hand before leaving. I cross my arms over my chest and don’t look right at Max.
It’s silent for a few moments, but he breaks the silence. “Seriously, you just beat me in the Stanley Cup finals, and you want to act like I still have everything you want?”
My lips part as I look over at him. I really look at him, dark circles under his eyes, worry written over his face.
“Are you done hating me?” Max says softly. “I know I can be an asshole and I was a show-off when we were younger, but I just want to be in your life. If anyone is jealous, it’s me.”
I’m rendered speechless for a moment as I stare at my brother. “What?”
“You’re an Omega, yet you achieved something I haven’t yet. You’re a great goalie, probably better than me. But besides the hockey stuff, you have them.” He points his finger toward the door.
“You’re jealous?” I ask, feeling completely flabbergasted.
“Yeah, I’m fucking jealous. You have a pack, a national title, and you did it all with the odds against you.”
“I didn’t think you wanted a pack.”
“How would you know? You’ve spent your whole life hating me.”
“I don’t hate you, Max.” He gives me a glare, and I shrug my shoulders. “Okay, maybe I felt jealous and competitive, but I didn’t hate you.”
“You thought I would tell on you to the NHL; you think the worst of me. Everyone does.” He looks away, and it’s the first time I see my brother as a vulnerable, real person. Not this pillar of success I’ve created in my mind. The goal was always to be better than him, and guilt crushes me at the realization that I’ve missed out on actually getting to know him because I was always so envious of what he had.
“I’m sorry, Max.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say.
“I don’t need an apology. I just want to be a part of your life.”
“Okay.”
