Beak Performance (Fangs on Ice #3)

7. Seven

Seven

Arne

F or someone whose team had won tonight’s game I sure as hell was way too depressed. Perhaps I should let the curvy redhead over by the window help me get my head on straight.

I huffed.

Bad puns since 2007.

If this was school, and I was not a more or less functioning adult, I’d be writing lines on the blackboard.

Kissing your new teammate is never a good idea.

Throwing my beer back, I gestured to the barman for another. I never drank, but tonight I needed to get out of my head if only for a while.

Realising I was at least bi hadn’t been a tremendous shock. Finding myself in a dark room with my back to the door and my tongue down my teammate’s throat?

Yeah, not my greatest moment. He kissed you first. And you went all in the moment he did.

Things between Max and I had been so fucking awkward since our time at Lone Fox.

I’d felt it, truly felt it, for the first time when he asked me to help him with his tie on our second night of training camp a few weeks before our memorable kiss.

“Can you imagine I’ve never worn one of these before? We had a game on the night of my graduation. I should’ve probably practised this.”

With a grin, he had run his hand through the glossy black curls, ruffling them.

God, his cheeky little grin.

Then the air between us had changed. Charged. Crackled with static.

When I closed my eyes, I could still see shadows swirling in the depths of his dark eyes, felt his throat bob under my fingertips, his breath brushing against my cheek as I helped him fix his tie.

“Ready,” I’d announced, stepping back as if I had burned myself. “I’ll see you downstairs.” I had fled, hidden in the next dark corner, my head thudding back into the wall as I’d tried to calm my racing mind, my frantic pulse, and shallow breathing. And then that kiss on our last night…

The world as I’d known it had ended. This new existence still confused me. The one where I craved his touch, his approval, and his taste on my tongue again.

He kissed you first. You are his captain! You should be the one to have his back, not think about him breaking yours.

Nobody could ever find out what kind of stuff I’d looked up on Kraken. I had my head full of new information about what we could do with each other: frotting, rimming, docking, and whatever else I had found.

Old dog, new tricks.

Compared to Max, who would turn twenty-six in January, I was ancient.

It’s just six years. He didn’t seem to mind when he— No.

I wouldn’t sit around and sexualise my teammate. Further.

God, that damn blowjob in my dream still haunted me. I couldn’t let it go.

Why can’t I stop thinking about it?

The room, and his eyes glinting in the darkness, those firm hands sliding up into my hair and guiding my mouth on his. His fucking taste. I took a deep draught of the beer as soon as the bartender placed it in front of me.

“Hi.” The gorgeous redhead finally approached me after eyeing me from the table by the window for a quarter of an hour.

“Hey.” I gave her a quick nod.

“I’m Val.”

“Arne.”

“Oh, is that Swedish?” she grinned at me before she tried to catch the bartender’s attention. In another life she might have interested me: curvy, sparkling blue eyes, and hair like burnished copper.

All I could think of was that pair of eyes watching me like a hawk. Dark and burning with jealousy, I felt them burrow into my back, trying to take up residence under my skin.

“Danish.”

“I’ve never seen you here before.” She smiled, her gaze travelling up and down the length of my body.

“My partner and I are usually homebodies. Gotta venture out into the world occasionally, though,” I said with a shrug. I had no idea why I lied. That wasn’t usually my style, but I knew I needed to get back to our table. And to navigate the mess Max and I were in somehow.

“Aw, yeah,” Val grinned, a little wistfully perhaps. “I get it. Nothing beats a quiet evening with your favourite person, does it?”

“Nah.” I shook my head, took my beer, and straightened. “Nah, you’re right. Have a great rest of the night.”

Her eyes travelled up the length of my body, a disappointed expression on her face. “You, too, Arne. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too.”