Knot Her Shot (MVP: Most Valuable Pack Book 2)

Chapter 10

chapter

ten

Who the hellthought I was mature enough for this?

Well. No one, actually.

I just happen to be the closest, according to Smith. He called me in an angry panic, demanding I rush over to Forever Fucked or whatever it’s called.

I still can’t remember when I walk in the front door. All I know is that I’m nervous in a way I never expected to be, and I have to keep wiping my damp palms on my gray joggers.

Shit.

It would have been nice to have some notice, so I could have looked at least a little put-together. But when they called, I was in a session with my personal trainer, trying to sweat out a shitty morning practice where Coach kicked my ass.

Like everything Smith picks out, this place is nice, with a capital N and a dollar sign where the C should be. The instant I walk in the door, not going home to change feels like a mistake. I had time to shower after my workout, but between the sweats and the bruise over my right eye, I’m most definitely not at my best.

Will that matter?

Do I care?

Yeah, I think I actually do.

Especially when I take my first breath of sweet-soaked air.

What.Is.That?

There’s no one at the front desk in this place, or maybe they’re just on a break. Either way, I can’t wait for them to come back. I have to follow the hum that suddenly crackles through my blood, pulling me to the door on the right side of the reception area.

I throw it open and charge through, only to collide with someone crossing from one room on the left to a different one on the right.

“Oh shit,” I curse, “I’m so sorry.”

I’ve got to stop bumping into people. I already have a black eye and a gnarly bruise on my jaw. The last thing I need is to ruin my face permanently. We all know it’s the best thing I’ve got going for me, aside from my slap shot, and?—

I blink down at the small person who just recoiled from our collision. It’s a woman. Small and dressed in pretty pink.

And completely frozen, staring at me.

For the most part, I’m not a huge fan of mute staring. It happens a lot with fans—ever since I got signed and had a few videos go viral on TikTok. Normally, I prefer the people who just bustle right up to me and shove their boobs and a Sharpie into my face. The lurkers usually feel awkward, at best.

Not this little thing, though. The way her blue eyes turn to saucers is actually adorable. And, you know,I did run into her.

I smile. Open my mouth to say hello.

But the whole world evaporates into nothing the second I breathe.

Holy. Ever-loving. Fuck.

Omega.

It’s weird, having one single moment when I suddenly understand so many things about myself and the universe all at once.

This is it, though.

This is everything.

What was I doing before? Must have been stupid. Nothing else could possibly matter this much.

My whole existence just… turns. Flips. Focuses. Until the rest of the world feels like a blur.

And she’s crystal fucking clear.

Does my brain even work anymore? I can’t seem to discern what she smells like… only that it’s absolute world-ending perfection.

Every receptor in my mind lights up and pulses. My mouth waters, teeth aching to bite. Claim. Clamp down on her neck while I sink my knot into her tight little body and stay buried in that flawless skin forever.

What am I going to do first: pick her up and purr for her or get on my knees and show her the way she’ll sit on my face every morning?

Jesus, Big D. Get a grip.

This is a literalstranger. And I just mowed her down.

Her hand floats up, absently pressing to the small swell of her chest. She blinks, two hazel-blue eyes beaming up at me from a face with dainty features and an upturned nose. All of it just as gorgeous as her warm brown skin.

I’ve never seen eyes like hers. Blue and brown and gold, spinning pretty patterns. And… leaking tears?

Is she crying?!

I think the fuck not.

Unable to stand for it, I curve my shoulders forward, forming a protective barrier between her and the rest of the world. All of my instincts turn on a dime, shifting from carnal claiming to comfort.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I say, as softly as I can. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head, the movement slow and dazed. “No, I—I’m sorry. I just…”

I realize we’re not alone when a female alpha clears her throat pointedly and curls a hand around the pretty girl’s bare shoulder. “We were just moving to a meeting room. Remi’s alphas are on their way.”

Remi.

I like that. Short and sweet, just like her.

Off the ice, I’m not usually aggressive to other alphas, but I hate that this one is touching the little omega standing in front of me. Especially since she seems overwhelmed. I suppress a snarl, glaring at the female alpha.

“She’s clearly upset,” I husk, trying to keep the growl out of my voice. Turning back to the omega, I have to ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch her.

“Whatever it is, it will be okay,” I say, knowing my words may be bullshit, but also knowing I have to make this better, somehow. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She blinks, obviously startled. Can’t say I blame her there. I’m startled. Especially when I notice that her gaze snags on the big purple circle around my right eye. She winces, and one of her hands flinches up, as if to touch it.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a small voice. “That looks like it hurts a lot.”

Actually, it does. But no one else bothered to ask.

“Yeah,” I reply, dumbfounded. And getting dumber with every pull of sweet-soaked oxygen. “It was my own fault, though.”

She frowns, and even that face is beautiful on her. All ponderous and pouty.

“Let me guess—you make a habit of running into people?” she asks with a scolding twitch of her eyebrow.

An uncontrollable grin stretches over my face. “I sort of do, actually. I’m a hockey player. We like to ram into each other. Like bumper cars on ice.”

Her second brow joins the first, casting me a dry look of disapproval. “Hmm. Looks more like you made someone mad and they punched you.”

Holy fucking shit.She’s so cute.

And, you know, correct.

My well-deserved bruise smarts when my face splits into another involuntary grin. “You callin’ me a liar, pretty girl?”

She sniffs, giving a clogged little giggle sound that goes straight to my heart.

And maybe my cock a little bit, too.

I’m only human, okay?

“I would never,” she says, but there’s a little slyness to her eyes that I love.

Her focus drops to her feet. They’re as dainty and adorable as the rest of her body, clad in pretty silver sandals. Sympathy and a surge of protectiveness rise inside of me. My inner Alpha lunges like a dog on a leash, trying to strangle himself to get to her.

Jesus, fuck. Down, boy.

For all I know, this girl belongs to some other asshole. But I can’t just walk away from her. I need to make sure she’s going to be safe.

And it’s just that—a need. One that pounds in my blood, my ears, my brain. Whatever else I do, I must make sure this sweet thing is okay.

The female alpha stops staring daggers at me, her frown turning puzzled. She shifts the tablet in her arms and taps at it. “You said you play hockey?”

I nod, unable to look away from Remi’s face a second time. Even when the other alpha chuckles to herself.

“Ah. That explains it,” she chirps, flipping the tablet closed. “Remi, this is Damon. He’s the star forward for the Orlando Timberwolves. And he’s one of your alphas.”

Because she’s all I see, I notice every flicker on the little omega’s face. The way her eyes go round and her lower lip quivers. For one heart-stopping second, I think she might cry again.

But then she smiles.

It’s a wobbly, watery thing. But it hits my heart like a flaming arrow.

And I am all the way in.