"Yeah." He clears his throat and pulls back, pointing at his smoothie. "This is still disgusting, by the way. Kale or no kale, I wish I had gotten something fruity."
I laugh and the tension breaks. "Noted. Next time I'll get you something better."
He glances at me. "So there's going to be a next time?"
"Absolutely. I'm dragging you to hot yoga every week now. It's happening."
He groans but there's something in his eyes that looks almost like affection. "You're the worst."
"You like it."
"I really don't."
His mouth curves slightly. I'll take it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Silas
The Seattle Havoc are supposed to be blowing off steam. Juliet arranged for us to rent out this retro bowling alley with sticky lanes, neon lights flickering overhead, and pitchers of cheap beer making the rounds. The women have claimed lanes on one end. The guys roughhouse and trash talk on the other. I sit with my arms crossed, nursing one warm beer, counting down the minutes until I can leave without looking antisocial.
I can’t wait to be out of here.
Scout's at the far end with Juliet, Jessa, Wren, and Mollie. Her dark blonde curls are pulled up in two pigtails that make her look younger than she is. The custom bowling shirt fits her perfectly, black fabric hugging her curves, silver lettering catching the neon lights. Those green eyes sparkle with genuine happiness as Jessa pulls out the shirts. Pink yoga pants hug her legs, showing off her shape in a way that makes my mouth go dry. Watching her clutch the shirt to her chest, I can see the emotion flooding her face.
Beautiful doesn't begin to cover it.
Jessa just pulled out custom bowling shirts for what shekeeps calling the Coven, apparently their name for the women that work for The Havoc. But my eyes follow only one person. As I watch, Scout gets visibly emotional over her bowling shirt. She clutches the black shirt with silver lettering to her chest like it's something precious.
"I'm so grateful. You ladies have been so welcoming.” Her voice carries across the lanes. "I was so lonely after the divorce. But you have made me feel like I’m a part of a team."
Her words tug at my heart. Hearing her say that she was lonely feels like pouring acid on an open wound.
“Oh, girl.” Juliet pulls her into a hug. Jessa beams like a proud mother hen. Mollie looks on, smiling at Scout's reaction.
Something twists in my chest watching her. She's so desperate to be included. So grateful for basic kindness. It makes me want to find Enzo and break his jaw for making her feel like she had to earn acceptance.
She’s amazing and beautiful. And Enzo is fucking scum.
Their game finishes around the same time ours does, so we meet in the middle of the alley, taking up several tables. Hunter sits down and pulls Juliet onto his lap. She turns to him and whispers something in his ear. He obviously likes whatever secret she has, because his pleased murmur rumbles from his chest as he rubs a circle in her back.
A part of me wonders if I'll ever be lucky enough to have a relationship like theirs. Sure, it started out a lie. Two people fake engaged, pretending that they were in love. But soon enough, it became apparent that their feelings weren’t fake.
My eyes travel over to Scout. She’s wearing her custom bowling shirt with a pair of pink yoga pants. My breath hitches when I see her lean over to pick up a pile of napkins from the floor. The thin material of her yoga pants stretches,becoming ever so slightly see-through. And I’m not the only one who notices. My brother Jett looks on, sipping his beer. And Thorne bites his lip as he gazes at her, his expression a little dreamy.
Like fuck I’d let Thorne hook up with Scout. He’s a huge playboy, different girl every night of the week. Definitely not down for any kind of commitment. If he acted on his obvious desire to take Scout home, he’d leave her crushed.
Luckily, after a few seconds, he blinks and looks away, responding with a laugh to something Tate said. Note to self: tell Thorne to keep his dick in his goddamn pants for once.
I watch Scout slip into caretaker mode without even realizing she's doing it. Making sure everyone's beers stay topped up. Ordering more nachos when plates run low. Juliet jumps up and fusses with the lane settings for the next game. When she makes a frustrated noise, Scout steps in and smoothly corrects it for her. They beam at each other.
Scout’s a helper at heart. A sunshine-filled goddess.
A few minutes later, I empty my cup. Scout appears at my elbow, offering me a cold bottle of the non-alcoholic beer I prefer. She remembered. Of course she did. Scout remembers everything about everyone.
I don’t even think they have this beer at the bowling alley.
“Thanks,” I say. “You always know just what I need.”
