Chapter 16 Tanner
TANNER
“This was a great idea!” Vann yelps in excitement, far happier than he should be after our journey here.
Spending five hours on a bus with a bunch of high-energy athletes isn’t what I wanted to do today. I haven’t had enough caffeine for this. Fucking Vann. There’s no way I trust him to be this close to Raven and not talk to her. The man needs a chaperone. So here we are.
The arena here in Milan isn’t nearly as pretty as where we’re playing in Cortina.
The entrance is wide, sloping at a sharp angle making it look almost like a pyramid with a rectangle on top.
It’s mostly made of concrete and is much smaller than the Cortina stadium.
Where we play is literally six times the size.
It’s also brighter, with one wall entirely of windows and bright blue metal scaffolding on the ceiling. I’d prefer to be there right now.
My stomach is as concrete as the building we’re walking into. My omega is somewhere inside here, and she hates me. What will she do if she sees us? We never should have come. I tug my baseball cap down, bending the bill to cover my face.
“Well, this place is… nice.” Orion says carefully.
“It’s sad.” Vann rebukes. “It’s like they took a leaky janitor's closet, blew it up, and froze the puddle on the floor. This is where dreams come to die. Why is it so fucking cold in here?”
“It’s the concrete,” Rhodes pipes up. “It’s thick and there aren’t heaters in here, so it just holds the winter cold in. We play on ice, Vann. It isn’t that bad.”
Vann sighs. “Fine. But it’s still fucking depressing. Our omega deserves better.”
We make our way to our seats without saying much more. We’re all on edge, jittery, expectant.
My first glimpse of Raven is like slipping on ice and falling flat on my face.
It stings, bringing up memories I’d rather not remember.
I’m transported back to high school, and all the insecurities that went with it.
I grab Orion’s hand and squeeze. He doesn’t take his eyes off Raven, but he gives me three quick squeezes back.
The last time I saw Raven was graduation.
She looked amazing in her cap and gown—no one looks amazing in a cap and gown, but she did.
I hated how much I noticed that. I wasn’t ready for an omega, or a pack.
My dad had spent that whole week belittling me for not getting into the college he attended, for not focusing hard enough.
Expressing how disappointed he was that I wouldn’t be continuing the long legacy of Wests going to Dartmouth.
Just before graduation, he took me out to dinner and told me he’d cut me off if I didn’t earn better grades and work harder. I was determined to prove myself to him. No distractions. Just grades, curling, and my eyes set on the Olympics.
Then I saw Raven in that damn cap and gown.
She was sitting right in front of me, and it was like every other thought went out of my mind.
All I wanted was to run my fingers through her long silky hair.
I was so distracted that I missed my name being called the first time.
I hated her for proving my father right—I wasn’t disciplined or focused enough.
So when I got back to my seat, I stuck a wad of gum in her hair.
It was childish and impulsive, and just made me hate myself even more.
I didn’t stay around long enough to know how she responded when she found it, or if she ever learned it was me.
I was so upset, I skipped the graduation party, went to the rink, and threw stones.
Orion found me there. That was the night we had our first kiss.
The night Vann learned Raven’s his scent match.
Watching her now, all the hurtful things I did and said come rushing back to the forefront of my mind. So does the attraction that was always there—so strong it terrified me. It still does.
Raven stops in the middle of the rink and strikes a pose.
The crowd quiets, waiting for the song to start.
The music starts slow, sensual, and Raven’s movements match it perfectly.
She eases in, bending at the waist, dragging a hand up her leg, casting a look over her shoulder that feels like it’s directed right at me, even though I know there’s no way she can see me in the crowd with that spotlight on her.
Her sheer skirt sways with her hips as she picks up speed, circling the ice shockingly fast. And then, she digs in one toe and leaps, both feet leaving the ground.
My breath scrapes out of my lungs and doesn’t return.
My heart leaves my body. My mind conjures a thousand ways she could hurt herself, and I feel as if my world has stopped spinning, waiting to make sure she’s okay.
She lands gracefully, one leg swinging out behind her, a wide smile on her face.
Perfect.
She flies around the rink like the bird she’s named for, graceful and fierce. With the build in the music, she bravely jumps and spins as if she’s weightless, fearless. So different from the shy little wallflower I remember. I’m seeing her for the first time in a completely different light.
In high school, half of my focus was always diverted toward her, but I worked hard not to let it show. Now, there’s no hiding the way she steals all of my attention. It’s so complete, so unquestionable.
I could get addicted to the rush of watching her skate. It’s nearly a borderline obsession, and I haven’t even scented her yet. If she smells as good as Vann says, I’m utterly and completely screwed.