Page 38 of In Too Deep
“It’s not about the blades, and we all fucking know it.” Logan drops his voice to another near growl as the last bits of chatter fade from the tunnel behind him.
“And what was that about, then?” Oli challenges, stepping forward slightly to put himself between Logan and us.
“Tori texted me.”
I frown at his simple response, waiting for him to elaborate or, hell, even maybe apologize for being a hypocrite. But he simply stares back, like he’s waiting for us to say something. Eventually, he rolls his shoulders and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“She told me she ran into yous guys when she was leaving this morning,” he says.
“Weird that she would text you and not us,” Oli mutters, not bothering to keep the suspicion out of his words.
“Yeah, it is. Or maybe you told her not to, because you knew you’d done something wrong,” I snap, finally letting out some of the venom I’ve been holding on to all day.
Logan opens his mouth to respond, but then seems to think better of it. His jaw snaps closed so fast that his teeth click together, his long exhale through his nose filling the chilled air around us. I shiver as he looks at each of our faces, his expression hard to read. But then he rocks his weight onto his heels, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It appears that we need to get some things straightened out,” Logan starts.
“Wedon’t have anything to straighten out, Logan,” Eli snaps back, emphasizing the first word pointedly as he stretches his spine until he’s at full height.
My rubbery legs wobble under me as I sigh. Oli looks ready to dig his heels in and have it out right here, and Eli looks ready to drop his gloves. On any other day, I might be right there with them, but all I want right now is to sit the fuck down and maybe ice my quads.
“Text Tori, and both of y’all can come over after she gets off work,” I say, speaking before Oli can continue the confrontation.
Eli and Oli whip around to look at me with a mixture of shock and irritation, but I ignore them, focusing on Logan. He softensa little as I lean heavily on my stick, shoulders coming down from around his ears.
“Fine. I’ll bring something for dinner, and we can talk,” he agrees, finally stepping out of the way.
I don’t even care that this probably means another lecture, so long as I can get off my feet for a little while before I have to drive us home.
I glare out thewindscreen of my car as I make my way toward the address Spencer provided me. This will be the first time I’m entering their house, but I doubt it’ll be the last, especially since I’m serious about this group relationship dynamic and joining their pack. Tori’s house is cute, perfectly suited for her needs, but it lacks the space we would need for a full pack of five. And my apartment is hardly big enough for me, and my short-term lease isn’t going to provide Tori’s omega instincts with the stability she craves.
As I wait to make the last turn onto St. Charles Ave., I sigh, my mind torn. The little prank the casino boys pulled would have been funny in any other circumstance. I’ve even done it once or twice in my career, but not to a member of the coaching staff. There’s a part of me that wants to read them the riot act for disrespecting me and my authority, but I think I would have better luck trying to lecture the tide into not rising. Mostlybecause I know deep down that it had nothing to do with our coach-player dynamic.
This act of petty revenge had everything to do with them seeing Tori coming out of my office this morning, and whatever they think happened between us.
Pulling into a parking spot on the side street that runs next to their house, I take a deep breath before exiting the car and grabbing the grocery bag of ingredients from my backseat. As I make my way along the sidewalk, I crane my neck back to take in the whole structure, and a reluctant appreciation fills my gut. It’s beautiful, the siding a pristine white with dark hurricane shutters on every window. The main floor is elevated, allowing for a garage at ground level, the door currently closed with Tori’s car parked in the short driveway in front of it. I take the stairs two at a time up to the wide front porch, balancing the paper bag in my arms as I pull open the screen door to knock on the solid wood main door.
It only takes a moment for the slab to swing inward, and my whole body relaxes as my eyes land on Tori’s diminutive frame. She’s still dressed in her work clothes, her heels abandoned. When she steps back to allow me inside, I look around the space, soaking it all in. The stairs to the upper floor are in the back corner of the living room, and there’s an open gap in the wall across from the door leading into the kitchen and dining room. The furniture is clean, neutral colored, with relatively few personal touches to be seen. If it weren’t for the overwhelming scents of bergamot, spearmint, blackberries, and spruce, I wouldn’t be able to tell that the boys live here at all.
“Glad you found the place,” Spencer says, pulling my attention to the stairs and away from the decor.
I nod, a small smile on my face as I toe off my shoes and step out of the way for Tori to close the door behind me. As she moves, I allow my free hand to brush her shoulders, and Inearly purr as I feel her shiver. Jesus fuck, she’s so goddamn responsive. I need to get her alone again and soon, preferably somewhere I can make her scream as loud as she can. But that’ll have to wait for another day. Tonight, we’ve got some serious trust building to do.
Spencer leads the way into the kitchen, he and Tori chatting casually as I unload my bag and get organized before I start cooking in earnest, cracking one of the Abita beers I brought with me. It would have been easy to just order something and have it delivered, but we need the time it’ll take for me to cook and serve a meal.
“Do you need an apron, chef? We’ve got a gingham one with a ruffle,” Oli snarks as he enters the kitchen from the living room, closely followed by Eli.
Rolling my eyes, I snort a laugh. “I’m sure it looks lovely on you, but I’m good,” I toss back, making Tori giggle.
Oli’s answering growl is half-hearted, but he makes a point in scooping Tori to his chest and kissing her soundly, holding eye contact with me after they pull apart. I don’t give him the response he’s clearly looking for, instead turning to Eli.
“Mind showing me where you keep your fry pans and baking sheets?”
The Swede nods and lopes over, and I can practically hear Oliver’s teeth grinding from how hard he’s clenching his jaw, which makes me smirk. He’s trying to get under my skin, or challenge me for dominance, I can’t decide. Either way, it’s not why I’m here.
There’s a long, awkward pause in the conversation as I begin prepping the veggies for roasting, but I don’t break it. An undertow of anger runs through the room, and I can feel three sets of eyes locked on me, waiting. They want me to start something so they can finish it, but I’ve got better plans to really get to the heart of the problem.
“So, Tori, what did you and Logan get up to this morning?” Spencer asks pointedly.