Chapter Text
Shane clutches the warm mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He scrolls through his feed, checking on emails, texts, and inventory. He makes a mental list for the objectives for the day. Monday mornings are not too busy at the shop, with more people showing up after noon.
Today is his first day back after nine months. Hollander’s Auto Shop is a small car repair store owned by his parents. His dad bought the building when he was in his twenties, and he was the manager until Shane took over after he received his degree in business management.
The situation was great because the second floor is a living space. Two small bedrooms, one bathroom, a nice kitchen, and a good size living room. David and Yuna live in a big house outside the city, and Shane moved into the space upstairs. Shane was the manager for the past three years, until he was forced to take a break during the last month of his pregnancy. Then afterwards, David offered to take Shane’s responsibilities until Shane felt comfortable going back to work.
Shane wouldn’t have made it without his parents. His twin girls are six months old, and it was quite an adjustment period from birth to now. He was more exhausted than he’s ever been, including when he played hockey in high school and college. He loved hockey, and he would still be playing if he hadn’t gotten a career-ending injury. He got hit hard in the head, and cracked a part of his skull and broke his collarbone. He could’ve recovered and came back, except the recruiters lost interest in him. It also didn’t help that he was an omega. His hockey career was over, and his whole life shifted. Only for his life to shift again when he was told he was pregnant.
Shane sleeps for barely five hours, with many times waking up to one of the girls waking up crying and needing nighttime feedings. When he gets one to fall back to sleep, the other one stirs awake. It’s an ongoing cycle, but it’s improved over the last month. He was still tired most of the time, but it was manageable. He can go to work, and his dad can go back into retirement. Knowing his dad, he’ll probably still come in daily to help with tire rotations or oil changes.
Shane is happy to be back, because working at the shop took up the empty void inside of him that hockey filled. The consistency of the work was nice, and he’s always been pretty handy with cars. He followed his dad around while he worked, learning and copying the more he grew up. When hockey stopped being an option, he spent nearly all his time downstairs with his dad working alongside him.
Shane glances at the work. He washes off his plate, and then goes into his daughters’ room. They’re stirring awake, blinking their eyes up at him. They have his eyes and dark hair, and there are freckles on their cheeks and nose. Their lips and nose are not his, too thin and slanted to belong to him.
No, those belong to Sebastian. His alpha.
Well, not his alpha. Not really. He thought Sebastian was. Turns out, he was wrong.
“Good morning, mes belles,” Shane coos at them.
June yawns adorably and rubs at her eyes with closed fists. She blinks at him and grips at the crib’s bars and the pink blanket draped over them. He kisses her cheeks and takes her over to the chair to feed her. He goes back to his phone and works out a list to get done during his first day. Inventory, scheduling, equipment maintenance, ordering supplies, and check on reviews. His dad is not the best at technology, so he’ll have to look for himself.
He feeds Marcy next, and she is hungrier than June. She fusses after, and Shane burps her longer. She has a messed up stomach a lot, more sensitive to food. Something to watch out for when she switches to solids.
Shane changes their diapers and dresses them into pink and orange rompers. Yuna bought them, along with most of their adorable clothes. Shane is her only child, so she never got into girl clothes and accessories. Based on how many bows she bought the twins, Shane has a feeling she was excited to have the chance to spoil.
“Where are my baby’s babies?”
Shane looks up at her from the floor in the playpen. He’s currently showing June the stuffed farm animals. His parents have the key to his place. Yuna walks in. “Oh my goodness. They look so good in them!”
“They do,” Shane agrees. He tickles Marcy’s stomach, and she shrieks at him. His heart clenches, and he kisses her chubby cheeks and nose. She grabs for him, babbling nonsense. “Her stomach is unhappy again. I have bottles in the fridge.”
“We can talk to their pediatrician,” Yuna offers. “Maybe they can suggest good medication to help.”
Yuna collects Marcy, who giggles at her. Shane brings June in her lap and holds her to his chest. He hugs her tight and sniffs her hair.
Yuna gives him a knowing smile. “You’re going to be 50 feet from them, honey. You’ll probably smell them while you work.”
Shane inhales deeply, smelling his baby and her vanilla scent. He soaks it up, hoping to get his baby’s smell on him. He’ll be surrounded by grease and potent garage scents, so he won’t smell them. He won’t smell like himself, which he knows from experience how disorienting it is.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Yuna asks gently. “It’s okay if you’re not after everything you went through.”
“I’m fine,” Shane insists. “I need to get my mind busy again.”
Yuna nods. “How was your session yesterday?”
“It went okay,” Shane says. He had an appointment with his trauma-informed bond therapist. Dr. Kelly is helping him regulate his emotions and hormone dysregulation. An incomplete mating can be devastating and deadly, which it was, and it took Shane three weeks to get out of bed. He was paralyzed with rejection, felt small and worthless curled in a ball, and he had to be reminded to eat and drink. Mostly it was his parents who came in with meals and water, and the rest of the time it was Hayden and Jackie watching over him.
He only moved for his daughters, to feed and scent them when they cried and slept. Shane was empty, and felt like his insides were carved out with a knife and left to die. He withered to nothing, melted into his sheets drenched with sweat and tears.
Dr. Kelly has helped significantly. It was an extremely horrible time, and it was her and his pack to bring him out of his suffering. His daughters needed him to take care of them. They relied on him, and while Shane’s alpha abandoned him, he wouldn’t abandon them. He would never want to make them think he didn’t want them. He wanted them. He loved them so much, ever since he learned about them. He was in love the second he heard their heartbeats.
Still, sometimes he slipped into that chasm of misery and thought about Sebastian. His alpha, and who Shane thought loved him. He thought they would be mates, since Sebastian bit him during his rut. Sebastian claimed Shane as his omega, and promised he would take care of them. He promised he loved Shane, and Shane loved him dearly. He said they’d be a family of four.
Instead Sebastian abandoned him and their daughters, and sent Shane face-first into single parenthood and bone-deep depression and rejection trauma. Shane gave birth without him, holding his mother’s hand, and knowing no other alpha will want him now.
“I love you, mes belles,” Shane coos at June and Marcy. He pecks their faces all over, heart aching at having to separate from them. It’s going to be rough, and they’ll cry when he leaves. ”Come get me if you need me.”
“I have it all covered,” Yuna promises, amused. “They’ll learn about farm animals, and then later they’ll learn about homes in Ottawa up for sale.”
Shane huffs. “Thanks. Please come get me for anything at all. I haven’t been away from them for longer than two hours.”
“They’ll cry a little, but I have tons of games and toys to distract them with,” Yuna says. “Educational videos and Bluey for emergencies.”
“I don’t want them staring at screens for long,” Shane says.
“I know,” Yuna muses. “I’ll take them to the park tomorrow.”
“Okay, sounds good. Thanks, Mom.”
She kisses him on the cheek, and Shane heads downstairs. Every step is a tug on a string, pulling taut and painful the farther he gets from his daughters. His two extra limbs that depend on him for everything. His two babies who he loves more than words can explain.
He pushes through the thick fog and goes to the store’s office. He turns on his computer, organizes his paperwork, and he looks at the list of customers he needs to call to pick up their cars. One woman had to get her fuel tank replaced, an older man’s brake pads got installed, and a younger woman needed her engine mounts secured.
Shane opens the garage doors, noting a few regulars in the parking lot waiting to get their tires checked. Hayden should be here soon to get the line started. Shane goes to the stereo and turns it on, and lets whatever station that it was on to play. He doesn’t care about music, so he lets Hayden or Wyatt choose what’s on.
“Shane! You’re back!”
Wyatt jogs over to him, smiling wide with mirth. He hugs Shane. “I’ve missed you, man. I’m so glad you’re back down here.”
“Happy to be back,” Shane admits. His heart weighs twice than normal with grief and guilt from leaving his kids. It makes no sense, considering they’re above his head with their grandmother. He can smell their pure baby scents.
“How are the girls?”
“They’re good,” Shane says.
He goes to the checkout station and sits on the stool. The lobby window is on his left, the glass separating him from the customers. He sets up his phone, clicking on the security camera. He has cameras in every room, and he clicks to zoom in the living room. His mom is watching the girls stack rings.
Wyatt leans on the counter. “You miss them yet?”
“They’re with my mom. They’re okay,” Shane says. The words hurt saying. He glances at his phone.
“You take as many breaks as you need, man.” Wyatt claps him on the back. “We got our first customer. Shout if you need me.”
The first customer of the day needs basic maintenance, and he tells her to park in the right lane and wait in the lobby. The next is an elderly man complaining about check engine lights. Shane tells him to wait outside, and he’ll meet him out there after he helps the next couple of people.
Hayden comes in late, and Shane gives him an admonishing glare. “You decided to work today?”
“Oh, come here,” Hayden says, ignoring his snark. He pulls Shane into a hug. “You doing okay? You feeling good?”
“I’m fine if you actually get here on time,” Shane snaps. “Is this what you do to my dad? Show up late?”
“No! Jade was crying because I couldn’t find her lion. It wasn’t til I got halfway here that I realized the lion was in the backseat,” Hayden groans. “So I had to go back. I’ll work extra hard to make up for it.”
“You better,” Shane grumbles. He hugs him in return, happy to see his friend again. Hayden visits sometimes, but Shane is too busy with the twins to give him his full attention. “I have to go check a customer’s check engine light. You have tires to check.”
Hayden salutes him. “Right away, Captain.”
His first day goes without issue. The usual requests and issues. He has to over explain services and car parts, including the importance of coolant and replacing cabin filters. He operates the front desk while Hayden and Wyatt do most of the services, and he steps in when it gets busy around one o’clock.
Shane keeps one eye on his phone the entire day. He runs upstairs once every hour to check on his daughters. They did start crying the minute he left, and they tired themselves out. They nap and play with building blocks and rattles. It kills Shane not being there, feeling like he’s neglecting them. They have to be confused and scared, and it kills him.
Shane goes upstairs for his lunch break, and June is asleep while Marcy is awake and calls out for him. He holds her while he eats the rice and salmon his mom cooks for him. He feeds the girls, happy to relieve the pressure in his chest. Marcy cries when he leaves again, breaking his heart in two, and Shane kisses her fists and cheeks. He scents her to calm her anguish cries, and she blinks her wide brown eyes at him.
“She is your twin,” Yuna says in awe.
Shane doesn’t know if he’s happy about that, or if he wished his daughters looked a little more like their other father.
“Has he reached out to you?” Yuna asks tentatively.
Shane busies himself with showing Marcy one of her new pop toys. He closes all the plastic disney character heads, and she watches in fascination as their famous quotes sing. She likes when Shane puts on Toy Story.
“No,” Shane says. Sebastian hasn’t texted him since the twins were born. Shane sent him a picture of the girls all wrapped in blankets and sleeping when they were three days old. Sebastian liked the picture with no other response. Technically, not a text. It was something though, and it made Shane’s heart skip a beat and sob into his pillow, once again hammered with rejection.
“Good,” Yuna says. “These precious girls are yours, not his.”
“They are his,” Shane argues flatly. “They wouldn’t be here without him.”
“The only good thing about him,” Yuna mutters. Shane gives her a look, and she holds up her hands placatingly. “It’s true!”
Shane shakes his head. He kisses his daughter once more, feet heavy with each step toward the door. “Just a couple more hours, and I’ll be home.”
“Okay, baby. Have a good shift.”
The rest of his day is spent at the front desk reading through emails and customer reviews. Most of them are positive, and he responds to them with short messages thanking them for the review. He responds to the mad ones, requesting for them to call or offer an apology and a coupon for their next oil change.
Shane is in the middle of checking out a grandfather and granddaughter when Hayden comes over. One of the last appointments of the day. Basic maintenance needed to be done. He thanks them for their business, and he hands each one a rose. A customary gift his dad does, and he did too. Shane hadn’t seen the point of it - still doesn’t - but customers love it. The elderly find the tradition adorable, and younger women blush and smile. Hayden and Wyatt rarely work the front desk, but they love handing out roses when they do.
Hayden hands both customers a rose, and like clockwork, the younger girl blushes. She says a quiet thank you and heads for the door. Her grandfather chuckles and thanks them.
“I was going to say hi to the girls and head out,” Hayden tells him. “Easy day, right? At least here.”
Shane nods. Hayden gets off early on the weekend and Mondays, and works later on his other days. “I’m going to organize the tires tomorrow. They’re too much of a mess.”
Hayden glances above them, obviously not understanding Shane’s displeasure with the system it transformed in while Shane was gone. He doesn’t comment. “Alright, bud. I’ll be coming in later, so I can close the store and let you get off early.”
“I’ll work my whole shift,” Shane says.
Hayden laughs. “I bet, but if you need to get off early because you miss your girls, nobody would blame you.”
I would blame me, Shane thinks. Another thing he would fail at. Once again faced with shame and guilt because he couldn’t meet criteria. He couldn’t be what he’s supposed to be. A good owner. A good manager. A good worker.
A good omega. He failed at that. He was rejected and abandoned by his alpha. There’s no redemption from that. Ever. All he can try to do is be a good parent and work hard. There is no room for slacking.
Though all he wants to do is go upstairs and cuddle with his babies in their nest. He needs their smell, their baby smell to soothe him. To remind him he’s not alone, and he’s still important and worthy of affection. His daughters adore him, and Shane’s chest physically hurts when they’re apart.
“Tell Jackie and kids hello for me,” Shane tells him. “I’ll come by this weekend for dinner.”
“You will?” Hayden looks far too excited, and Shane is unsure why his presence is that important.
Hayden is always inviting Shane over, or inviting himself over, to share meals or watch games or movies together. Shane hadn’t understood at first, perplexed by Hayden’s insistence to spend all his extra time with Shane. What he originally thought was pity, was thrilled excitement for Shane and his ingrained love for babies.
Hayden went out of his way three times a week to hang out with Shane while he was pregnant and after. Hayden had been the third person to hold the girls. The alpha’s smile took up his entire face, and his eyes were teary with adoration and joy. His mint scent spiked with affection and unrestrained happiness lighting up his features.
Hayden washes his hands and runs upstairs. Wyatt comes over, hands and face covered in oil and grease. He smiles wide, and he leans on the counter with his hat on backwards. “What a day, huh? Think we’ll close up shop after this guy with the Nissan? He only needs his brake light replaced.”
“Okay,” Shane agrees. “I’ll close the back garage door and turn off the OPEN sign.”
“Heck yeah, let’s do it.”
A loud engine rattles the walls, causing Shane to look outside. An orange Porsche 718 Cayman rolls into the parking lot. All the leaving customers look up, taking a moment to poke their head out to see the fancy sports car. It stood out against all the other cars, which are a range of more regular colors including gray, blue, green, and red. A parking lot of Nissans, Hondas, Subarus, and Chevy trucks. Sometimes they’ll get the occasional Land Rovers and Mercedes, but those people go to their regular dealership to get looked at.
This flashy Porsche couldn’t stand out more if it tried.
Except when the car parks and the driver gets out, Shane is proven wrong. The man walking to the lobby could be spotted in a crowd of hundreds. He’s tall and has dark blonde curls, and he wears a tight black shirt and dark jeans. His steps are confident and certain, but there’s a feel about him that’s a sign he’s not from here. Ottawa is not the sort of place you can dive in and get lost. People noticed you. The man eyes the shop’s sign with pinched brows while checking his phone.
Shane peeks at his phone. His girls are napping again. Good. They cried a lot today, and it hurt like a knife in the heart to not run up there and soothe them. Stuff their faces in his neck so he can smell him. His own scent changed when he got pregnant - more sweet and vanilla. It hasn’t changed since he gave birth, so he’s forever going to smell like a boring sweet treat.
He doesn’t smell like Sebastian anymore. Small mercies, though it hadn’t felt like it at the time. Luckily, Sebastian was constantly pulling away from Shane towards the end of their relationship. He declined invitations to spend the night together, cancelled hangouts with Shane and his parents, and he was never there when Shane needed him. Though when Sebastian needed him…suddenly Sebastian was everywhere.
“Hello?”
Shane smiles politely at him, and it takes a minute too long to respond. He’s distracted by the man’s accent. It was thick, and his voice was deep. He smells like citrus and amber. An alpha. “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”
He pointedly ignores Wyatt’s confused expression staring at him. The last guy was supposed to be the last customer for the day. Shane didn’t want to deny this man service, especially since he was new in town and looked uncomfortable. He could be trying to get to the airport and running late.
The man’s cheekbones are sharp, and his jaw clenches as he swallows. “There is a hole in my tire.”
“Oh,” Shane says. “Uh, I’m sorry about that. Where on the tire?”
“On the side,” the man says. Russian. The accent is distinct, and Shane can finally identify it.
“If the hole is on the shoulder or sidewall areas, then the tire will need to be replaced,” Shane explains with a wince. “If it happened on the tread center, then repairs are easy.”
The man sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. He has long fingers, and Shane chews on his bottom lip. “Okay.”
“I can call you a taxi? If you would like. Do you live around here?”
“No,” the man says. “I lived in Boston. I am moving here. I was meeting a realtor when I ran over something sharp, and my tire went flat.”
“You’re moving here from Boston?” Shane asks. “Why?”
Fuck. That was none of his business. The question was inappropriate and unnecessary. He doesn’t normally ask customers personal questions, unless they were related to car diagnostics. Why the man moved here was absolutely unimportant.
The mask of indifference cracks minimally, and the man’s mouth twitches, amused. “I play hockey. I switched teams.”
Shane’s stomach lurches at the mention of hockey. “You got traded?”
Ilya’s face scrunches in distaste. “No, I switched teams when I became a free agent. Boston, it was not for me. I move to Canada team.”
“Boston is great,” Shane says, confused. “People love it there.”
“Boston was, uh, not great. For me,” Ilya says. He shrugs stiffly, failing to hide the tension built in his shoulders and jaw. “I am here now with broken tire. Will you have it fixed tomorrow?”
“Of course, sir,” Shane replies, remembering why he was here in the first place. The man raises a brow, and he doesn’t suppress his grin. “Well, actually, I have to see if we have the right tire for you. We might have to order it in. It could take a couple of days. I’ll search the inventory for the size and manufacture, and see what I can do. We don’t typically get customers with that brand of sports cars.”
Rather than complain about the wait, the man smiles, and that makes Shane blush and duck his head. His eyes are blue, and they sparkle in delight and pride. “It did not take me long to notice the lack of cool cars in Canada. I should not be surprised. Boring Canada is boring.”
“Canada isn’t boring,” Shane scoffs. “You should get a better car suited for the snow, though. It can be dangerous during winters.”
“Oh, yes?” The alpha leans on the counter, and his grin is wide and mischievous. “You are worried for me? If you hadn’t noticed, I am Russian. Snow is not taking me out.”
“I noticed.” Shane smiles. “Canada receives more snowfall than Russia, so it would be best to heed my warning and get chains or a better, more sufficient car. Mr.?”
The man gapes at him. “Ilya Rozanov, you rude Canadian boy. I thought you were supposed to be nice? You keep insulting me.”
“I’m not insulting,” Shane disagrees. His cheeks are warm, and they ache from smiling. God, what was he doing? “I am correcting.”
Ilya laughs, and the tension from earlier is long gone. “You will get your wish, I think. I have to rent a car, and I doubt you have cool cars here. You don’t buy those in Canada. You either get a piece of shit four-door, front-wheel drive, slow as fuck car or an embarrassing minivan.”
“Well, just like hockey, Canada is more efficient than Russia.”
The crinkles around Ilya’s eyes fade, and he openly stares at Shane. “That is rude and false. I do not trust you to take care of my precious car. I want to speak to your manager.”
“I’m the owner,” Shane says regrettably. “I won't get in trouble.”
“Then I leave,” Ilya says. “I will write scathing review about owner with freckles. I will say how mean he is and how wrong he is about hockey.”
Shane straightens his back, setting his features neutral. “I’m very sorry, sir. I will place the order right away, and I will be sure to recommend any nearby hotels for you to stay in.”
Ilya nods with a dramatic scoff. “That’s the least you can do.”
Shane searches his inventory and sees they do not have the proper tire for Ilya’s car, which is expected. He puts an order for four to be shipped in three days. “I can check your tires to see if it would be best to buy all four or just one.”
“Who are you spying on?”
Ilya was leaning in closer to see the screen Shane is looking at. To the right sits Shane’s phone, plugged in with his security camera on. Shane turns it over. “Nothing. Uh, I will check your car. I will be right back. I can park the car inside the garage to keep it safe.”
“Okay,” Ilya says. He hands Shane the keys, allowing their fingers to touch longer than necessary. Their knuckles graze, and his fingertip slides along Shane’s wrist. Shane’s breath hitches.
Shane leaves his post to go to the parking lot. He’s outside when Wyatt catches up to him. “I thought we were closed now?”
Shane doesn’t like the tone he’s speaking in. “This will be the last one. You can close the door once I park the car inside.”
Wyatt grins, and he walks backwards in front of Shane. “Attractive guy. What were you two talking about?”
“Nothing,” Shane says adamantly. They get to the car, and he realizes he hadn’t asked which tire it was. He finds out through trial and error that it’s the back left tire, and the hole is gnarly. Shane has no idea how Ilya made it to the shop.
“You didn’t even ask what tire it was?” Wyatt asks, exasperated. He barks out a laugh, clutching his stomach. “I can’t think of a single time when you didn’t ask all the proper questions. This guy threw you off. You have a crush!”
“No, I don’t,” Shane hisses, embarrassed. “I do not have a crush. He’s a customer.”
“Customers can be attractive,” Wyatt points out. “He’s hot - even I can see that.”
“Then ask him out,” Shane says. He gets into the car and puts it in drive. “I don’t think Lisa will be happy.”
“Because he’s hot?”
“Shut up,” Shane grumbles. Wyatt laughs harder. “Is the shop ready to be closed? I want to see my daughters.”
“Yeah, everything is all set,” Wyatt says. “Mind if I go see them? Lisa wants more pictures.”
“That’s fine.”
Wyatt turns to leave, and then pauses. “I can tell that customer to leave for you.”
“No,” Shane says, too sharply than what would be normal. “It’s okay. I told him I’d find him a hotel.”
Wyatt snorts and wags his brows suggestively. “You know, there’s a pull out couch in that office of yours. He could stay there.”
Shane sends him an admonishing glare. “If he was attractive, I would be foolish to let a stranger stay under the same roof as me and my daughters. My babies who are not even one. I’m not irresponsible or stupid to let my attraction to an alpha I don’t know put myself and my daughters at risk.”
“I know,” Wyatt placates. “I promise, Shane, I know you wouldn’t do that.”
“Okay.”
He’s about to drive off when Wyatt interrupts. “There are three doors from the office to your front door you can lock.”
“He’s staying in a hotel,” Shane murmurs. “Goodnight, Wyatt.”
Wyatt chuckles and wishes him a good night, and he passes Ilya to go upstairs. He says something to Ilya before disappearing. Shane parks the car and closes the garage doors. He turns off the lights and goes to the lobby. Ilya puts his phone in his pocket.
“There’s a nice hotel two blocks down,” Shane says. “Good reviews and where we recommend out of town customers to stay. The shop pays for one night, so you can email me the receipt.”
“You pay for one night?” Ilya asks, surprised.
“We have a partnership with the hotel,” Shane explains.
“Ah.” Ilya smirks. “You Canadians work together.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Unlike Russians. When communism fell, everyone was out for themselves.”
Ilya’s face glinted with challenge. “When I was born, the government couldn’t handle me. They had to change the system.”
“They say all hockey players have egos,” Shane says. “We’ll be here all night comparing cultures.”
Ilya tilts his head. “You play hockey?”
“I did,” Shane says. “I got badly injured, and I couldn’t play anymore. I do it as a hobby now, when I have time.”
“Do you watch?”
“When I have time,” Shane says. He has time to put it on TV, but it’s a different issue to pay attention. June and Marcy require too much of him to do anything besides tend to them and make sure they’re safe. He’s surprised he had enough extra brain power to compartmentalize work and them. “Lately, I haven’t. Not in the past year. Life is hectic.”
Ilya nods. “That is too bad. I’d love to see what you can do. You could help me make the team actually good.”
Shane sucks in a breath, choosing to ignore the compliment. “You’re joining the Centaurs?”
“I am,” Ilya says with a degree of satisfaction Shane hadn’t expected. The Centaurs aren't known to be the most…winning team. They haven’t won a Stanley Cup in 20 years.
If Ilya was joining their team, that means he wasn’t that good of a player. However, he had played for Boston, which proves the opposite. He had to be good for them to take him.
Boston to Ottawa makes no sense for a good player’s career.
“Why?” Shane can’t help but ask.
The easy grace contorts into something complicated, and Ilya’s blue is a darker shade of grief. It doesn’t last long, traded for masked indifference. “What’s that thing Americans say? A change? New phase in life?”
Shane huffs a laugh. “Do you need a taxi?”
“It’s okay, I can walk,” Ilya waves off. His eyes flicker to Shane’s chest. “Thank you, Shane. You were very helpful.”
Shane. Shane’s heart flutters at the sound of Ilya saying his name. The low tone of his voice, and the way his tongue and accent curved the letters. Warmth spreads from the back of his neck to his chest. Chills his skin and produces goosebumps.
“I’ll call you tomorrow with updates,” Shane offers. “What’s your number?”
Shane shut down the computer, so he hands Ilya a pen. Ilya takes it, deliberately running his fingertips over the back of Shane’s hand. Blood roars in his ears, and he anxiously watches Ilya’s handsome face as he writes.
Ilya’s citrus scent is sweet and alluring, and Shane can’t help but compare it to Sebastian’s overpowering dry woods scent. Shane compared it to pine needles, but it sharpened perniciously through the two years they were together. It grew less like pine and more like moss and fungus.
Ilya sets the pen and paper down, reaching over Shane’s shoulder, causing their arms to touch. Citrus fills his nose, disorienting Shane temporarily.
“Thank you,” Ilya murmurs. To Shane’s horror, his eyes flicker over Shane’s face and lower to his neck. His gaze makes Shane want to squirm. Ilya wasn’t that much taller than him, maybe an inch or two, but it felt like he was towering over him.
Shane wants to run and hide. He needs Ilya to stop looking at him, speculating the mark on his neck. The mating mark that gave Shane an overwhelming weight of shame and misery. A mark of abandonment. Shane wasn’t good enough to be a mate. He was meant to be alone forever, and the mark would remind him every day what he did wrong. He was a bad omega, and everyone will know that because of the lack of alpha and the presence of a mark.
Shane hurries past him and opens the front door. “I’ll call you with updates, Mr. Rozanov. Sir.”
“Ilya,” Ilya says. “You can call me ‘Ilya.’ I do like ‘sir’ too.”
Ilya winks and steps out into the evening air, leaving Shane blushing and breathless. He stands at his work station, frozen in his spiraling thoughts.
He kicks himself, heart and primal needs lurching forward and taking control. He organizes his desk and files by order of significance, and he locks all the doors before rushing upstairs.
“There you are,” his mom says. “I was wondering where you were. You always work yourself so hard. You know what Dr. Kelly wants you to do.”
“You should go see her too then,” Shane retorts. He goes straight to his daughters, who are having belly time on the rug in the living room. Marcy reaches for him with a shriek, and June babbles like she’s reporting to him how her day went. “Hi, babies.”
Yuna laughs. “For your information, I’m going to take two weeks off in August. Your father and I are going on a European cruise. We really hope you and the girls come too.”
“Maybe,” Shane says. June babbles louder between giggles, and he makes faces at her. She grabs at his nose. “I don’t know what we’d do about the shop.”
“Oh, Hayden and Wyatt will be in charge,” Yuna says. “Well, Wyatt mostly - probably. We could also hire someone temporary. A summer job. I could make a post online for it.”
“I can do it,” Shane says. June makes grabby hands at his chest. “I’m going to feed them, and you can head home. I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
“They cried like a banshee when you left each time, but that’s expected,” Yuna says. “They’ll have issues with separation for a little while. They’ll get better. I distracted them with play time and telling them all about work. Marcy was very interested in me telling her about this one home with a wide open space and sliding back doors.”
Shane chuckles and picks up both girls. “She is very opinionated.”
He goes into his bedroom and gets comfortable on the bed. He removes his shirt and gets on his phone while Marcy eats, checking messages and emails. He has an appointment with Dr. Kelly next week. He’ll have to work in the afternoon. Thankfully, Dr. Kelly loves Marcy and June, and he can bring them too.
Shane tells June about his day while she eats, and her big brown eyes look up at him. One man complained about the wait, and nothing satisfied him. Wyatt had him waiting for fifteen minutes, but that was too long for an oil change apparently. He was mad because Shane didn’t discount his services, and he yelled belligerently and ripped the rose in half when he handed it to him.
Maybe he shouldn’t have given the man the rose, but every customer gets a rose.
June burps, sharing her agreement.
Shane hugs his mom goodbye. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”
She kisses his cheek. “You could. Do not sell yourself short. There is no limit to what you can do. You’re my baby. You’re a Hollander, which means you’d make the impossible possible to make sure those wonderful girls have everything they need.”
Shane’s eyes burn. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She says goodbye to the girls with kisses to their chubby cheeks. They cry when she leaves, and Shane coos at them, cradling them both in his lap as well as he can. He plays with them once they calm down, and he takes them both to the bathroom to bathe them. Afterwards, he straps them to their rocking baby chairs, so he can take a shower.
Shane is settled in bed after reading a book to them. He reads a chapter of his own book. It’s a mystery book, centered around people on a train and a murder. Patterns are consistent, and he likes testing that. It’s like an exercise for his brain and helps him sleep. He should be tired, and he is, but after a long day of work and getting back into the routine, he can’t stop his racing thoughts. His shame at leaving his children comes to a tenfold, and he needs to distract his anxious thoughts.
Shane finishes reading and turns off the light. He pulls out his phone. He rolls his bottom lip and clicks google.
Ilya Rozanov.
Ilya was born in Moscow in 1991. His early life doesn’t have much information. He is an alpha, and he was captain of his junior hockey team. He represented Russia at the International Prospect Cup for two years. Ilya was drafted first by Boston, where he played for the last five seasons. He won the Stanley Cup during his first season, and another one during his third. He was an excellent player. Marked as the world’s best hockey player.
Shane reads his statistics. More than 300 goals and 400 assists. 14 scoring percentage. Blocked more than 300 pucks. All his numbers are above average. He plays as well as Shane did when he was younger.
Why did he switch to the Centaurs? A below average team in Canada. He definitely took a pay cut and by the pictures, it seems like Ilya goes out to clubs all the time. There’s not many bars and clubs in Ottawa. Nothing that Ilya would find interesting.
He shouldn’t be worried about Ilya being entertained. It’s not Shane’s issue. Ilya is a millionaire and can handle his own problems.
Maybe his mom can help Ilya find a place. His mom is a good realtor and could easily find Ilya a home. Would that be socially inappropriate? Maybe Shane shouldn’t intervene. Shane was just the mechanic and Ilya is a customer. There’s little chance they’ll see each other again.
They shouldn’t see each other after Ilya gets his tire replaced. He’ll go play hockey and forget all about Shane. It’d be for the best. They’re both busy with their lives. Ilya with hockey, and Shane with work and taking care of his daughters. It’s not as if Ilya would want anything to do with him once he finds out how complicated Shane is. No alpha wants a rejected omega with children.
Shane watches another compilation of videos of Ilya playing. His best scores and assists. He watches with a smile and wishes he could inhale another breath of his citrus scent.