Beak Performance (Fangs on Ice #3)

35. Thirty-five

Thirty-five

Arne

I had barely made it inside when my phone chimed. Smiling to myself, I dropped my bag on the bathroom floor and took my phone with me to the living room.

I miss you, too, baby.

Max: Fuck. Someone filmed us at the spa.

Max: It’s all over social media

My body went numb, and I had to take a seat, my phone slipping out of my fingers onto the couch cushion.

It chimed with another message, but it took me a few moments to unfreeze.

Coach: Meeting in my office in an hour. Be on time.

Oh fuck fuck fuck.

I had fifty minutes to get to the meeting. Fifty agonising minutes before Max’s and my doom. There was no way I could drive. But I couldn’t just sit around.

Pulling a neutral grey beanie deep into my face, I put my coat and boots back on and walked to the rink.

Max already waited in the deserted corridor outside our coach’s office when I arrived.

Neither of us said a word as I leaned against the wall next to him. My Raven took a steadying breath and reached out, interlacing his fingers with mine.

We’ll be fine. Somehow.

The door flung open after a couple of minutes. It hit the wall with a bang. Oh shit, Jerke looked close to exploding with rage.

“Bendixen. Gruber. Come in.”

His eyes dipped to our entwined fingers, but he didn’t acknowledge them. Spinning on his heels, he stormed back inside and clutched his desk for support.

We took seats in the visitors’ chairs opposite him. Max still hadn’t let go of my hand.

Jerke took another deep breath.

“I’m sure you know why I told you to meet me here,” he said in a voice of forced calm.

“Yes.” Max raised his eyes and looked straight at him.

Our coach pressed a button on the keyboard of his computer and turned his screen around.

A video started playing. Someone had filmed us from inside the spa. It was an awkward angle, but it was us. No denying it. Not that I wanted to lie to our coach.

Jerke inhaled when my hands dipped down below the water level to grip Max’s ass and press his cock against mine.

Fuck. This is bad.

Reassurance flooded my mind through the mate bond.

It’s going to be okay.

We kissed for another few moments before the video broke off.

“Explain,” Jerke snapped.

“Someone thought it was okay to film us at the spa.” Max sounded so angry I feared the Nachtkrapp would burst forth.

It’s okay, baby.

They hurt you. I want to end them.

Okay, this shouldn’t be as hot as it was.

It should be me protecting Max. Me, his captain, the older of us two.

This time I felt his deep, snarling voice in my bones.

I’d raze this city to the ground for you, Princess.

“You are lucky you weren’t kicked out for public indecency, Gruber!” If this were a comic, smoke would curl from Jerke’s nostrils. “Do you think I want my players being torn apart by some boulevard magazine?”

“We just kissed.”

“You had your hands in his shorts, Bendixen,” our coach growled. He pushed away from his desk and pulled the door open. “Meeting room. Now!”

We followed him down the corridor. Behind his back, Max brought our hands up to his mouth and kissed mine.

Nate sat at the conference table, looking confused as his gaze moved from our coach to Max and me, one eyebrow raised. His eyes, too, hung on our hands for a moment.

“I know you are angry that Max and I—”

“I don’t care who you fuck, Bendixen!” he barked, wheezing. “What I do care about is my captain groping one of his teammates at a public spa!” He stalked around the room, pulling at his thinning hair. “I don’t want any of the bullshit like what Chase Harper gets up to.” Jerke spat out the name of the Gators’ right winger as if it tasted bitter on his tongue.

“You are benched—no. I don’t even want to see you anywhere near the ice for the next three games. Suit and tie, in the stands on your best behaviour. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, staring at my knees, my body tightly coiled, ready to jump to Max’s aid when he let loose on him.

“Decker, you will take over from Bendixen.”

“What?” Nate stared at him, then met my eyes with a horror-struck expression on his face. “No, I—I didn’t know that’s why you wanted me here,” he stammered, wringing his hands.

“Yeah, it makes sense. It should be Decker.” I gave him a small half smile I hoped reached my eyes. He deserved it, and he had everything he needed to be an excellent captain for the Pumas.

Our coach acknowledged me with an almost imperceptible nod, as if against his will.

I can accept defeat, Coach. You should know that.

“While he’s benched. Don’t freak out on me, men. I’m mad, but I’m not that mad.”

“Oh, okay.” Nate exhaled. “Yeah, I can do that, of course.” I caught his eye, giving him a small lift of the lips I hoped he interpreted as a smile.

I’d meant it. If anyone took over from me, I'd want it to be Nate.

“Decker, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment? You too Bendixen. You can wait outside.”

“No, Arne needs to stay. Please,” Max said royally.

Oh, Raven. I’m so fucking sorry.

“Well, if he must.”

He waited until Decks had closed the door behind him, then settled down in the chair opposite of my raven.

“ Wir kriegen das wieder hin, Max, okay? Finn wartet auf dich im Social Media Büro. Wir lassen dich in der Situation nicht allein. Keine Sorge, in ein paar Tagen kr?ht kein Hahn mehr danach. ”

“Coach, can we talk about this in English? This concerns Arne and me.” I could have kissed him for saying that.

Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t do that in front of Jerke.

Coach Jerke huffed. “Apologies, Bendixen. So as I was saying, it’s going to be okay. You’ll meet Finn to discuss how you want to handle this. We can’t just ignore it, there will have to be an official statement.”

His eyes fell on Max. “What?” Jerke narrowed his eyes at him.

“Sorry, Coach.” He chuckled. “I thought you were going to tell me to pack my things and go. And I would. Anything to protect—”

“I’m not amused,” Jerke interrupted him. “We won’t let one of our best newcomers or one of my best enforcers go over something like this. I take it that things between you and Bendixen are consensual?”

I choked on a sip of water from one of the small bottles on the table.

Max smirked at my coughing self. “It’s definitely consensual, Mister Jerke.”

“See? You will keep Bendixen company in the stands but absolutely no touching. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” we replied.

Fat chance.

“And I meant what I said; I don’t care. But I won’t have you arrested for public indecency. And I’m, uh, happy for you,” he added awkwardly and in a gruff tone. “You can go. Meet Finn and discuss a social media strategy for this mess. See you tomorrow morning.”