“A pagoda?”
“Per… gu… la. Pergola? Pagoda?” Alexei says the words slowly, trying to remember the word and pronounce it right at the same time. “No matter, the omega wants shade. Her skin is delicate.”
I roll my eyes, and the big Russian clucks his tongue at me. “You should get one.”
“My skin ain’t delicate. What the fuck do I need with a pagoda?”
“No, omega.”
I scoff. I’d take a gambling addiction over an omega. “You talk about omegas like you can just run to Target and pick one up.”
Alexei actually laughs. “Life is much better with omega. They make you do crazy things.”
“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it. “
“How’s Beckett’s head? Better than your face, I hope.”
“He’s good,” I lie.
“He’s off his game right now.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Liam has been saying something similar for a little while now. He’s been agitated, short-tempered and that’s even without my fucking nonsense stirring up shit.
Alexei nods, like he already knows. “Come to my box for the next home game. We watch, we drink, maybe some vodka.”
“Yeah, alright. Next home game.” Beckett’s suspension will be up, but he’s out with a concussion anyway.
“Good, good.”
We shake again, and I cut through the house, avoiding Sandra and her clouds of perfume. If I can get to Randal Voss first, this will all be over.
Chapter twenty-six
LIAM
Ipickatmythumbnail as I watch the photographer circle Beckett and Ash, who is trying and mostly succeeding at being chill. He’s not bad, but give it another minute and Beckett is going to catch on that someone has been following him since he walked out of the planetarium.
This is a risk, and I’m only going to feel slightly guilty about texting Chantel about a possible photo op. The gossip rags are going to go one of two ways. Either question his injury and do op-eds on how he’s letting down the team. Or, the one I have my fingers crossed for, ‘look how cute the big golden retriever hockey star is with the gorgeous little omega.’
And they are fucking cute. Laughing and giggling and canoodling through all the exhibits at the Science Center. The way Ash’s hair falls into her face and down her back, the goofy space-themed sunglasses Beckett insisted on buying her that shewon’t take off. Beckett digging for fossils in the dinosaur exhibit with kids crawling all over him was picture perfect.
Chantel will probably kick this to the team’s publicist. The amount of “love is in the air” puff pieces that have come out this season from Marilyn is staggering.
As we step into the next exhibit, Beckett picks up on the photog. I’m pretty sure he’s a beta, so it shouldn’t set Beckett off if he’s going to get all protective about his girlfriend.
Shit, is she his girlfriend?
Ash is the one who insisted that I come with them, so I only feel mildly shitty about being a third wheel.
Beckett watches the guy back off and retreat toward the entrance, but it doesn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He catches my eye and smiles, winks at me. He breaks off from Ash, who is inspecting a giant light board with multi-colored pegs. Kids are running everywhere, and she side steps them like they carry the plague. I check the museum map. This is some sort of physics of light exhibit.
“That was paparazzi, wasn’t it?” Beckett asks, throwing an arm over my shoulder and leaning his weight on me. I instantly relax. Beckett has always been touchy-feely, but all the tension between us has made him pretty standoffish lately. I hadn’t noticed how much it affected me.
The realization hits me in the gut and then gets double tapped knowing it’s probably like that for Ash too. I’m watching her glide around the exhibit, making sure there’s a buffer around her at all times. But she leans into Beckett, brushes against him, and is never more than an arm’s length away. Must just be Beckett.
“Chantel said she’s going to stop telling me when she sends someone to take my pic. She says I get all weird when I’m in the spotlight,” he says.
“You do.”
