2. Lucas
I’ve spent endless hours practicing on the ice, sacrificed my love life and... a life, but nothing is hampering my dream.
The New York Bears want me to resign, and I’m currently mulling over a new three-year contract. I’m not ready to sign it, but I plan on staying here for my entire career. Prove they made the right decision in signing me as a rookie and making me a millionaire in the process.
It doesn’t stop other teams from offering me very enticing offers.
Offers I should consider if I want to get as far away from my father as possible.
But not today, as tonight we have a game against the Boston Bulldogs, and that includes playing against my old nemesis Raul Simone. But I’m no longer a rookie and have my shit together... finally.
I may even apologize for the hard times I gave him in the past.
We spent our college and rookie years trying to out-do each other. Each of us wanted to be the best person on the ice. But since I found out he married the love of his life, I realize I’m the only one still holding the grudge.
And as I don’t want to be seen as anything other than the team’s best player... maybe the entire NHL one day, and I’m going to make it without the tactics I’ve used in the past.
One day, I’ll prove I’m worth every cent of the multi-million dollars contract I’ll eventually sign. Because, it’s not only the money, this is my dream.
And my life.
Colton Sinclair slaps my back as he walks by me. Colton is one of the new rookies on the team, and unlike me, when I was a rookie, he is already playing in major games.
“Nervous?” I ask as we amble in our skates down the tunnel. The crowd is already cheering as the other team glides onto the ice.
He smiles. “Only because my girlfriend and my family are here to watch me. Other than that, I’m excited.”
“Who’s up for drinks tonight?” Stanton Adams, my housemate, and team captain, calls from behind me. “After the press conference.”
I don’t answer. I never partake, and everyone knows that. My plan is to go home and chill the only way I know how to—with a drink in my hand.
Coach strides in front of us, shouting out his words of wisdom for the game. My nose twitches, and my mind wanders in an instant.
“Keep it tight and work as a fucking team!” he shouts.
I snap back to Coach, still talking about the way we need to play as we skate onto the ice. As I make my way to the rest of my team, the cold bites at my exposed skin.
I love this game. It’s the only thing that makes me... feel.
The crowd is loud, but I tune in to the sound of blades slicing through the ice.
“You coming tonight?” Stanton yells as he skates loops around me before he gets into position. “We could find a pussy to share.”
“You already know the answer.”
He grumbles as he skates away. Stanton seems to think we’re pack mates. I’m not interested in having a pack, because that means we’ll start hunting for our omega. An omega, my father is also keen for me to find.
I’ll stick to betas for now.
With the blaring sound of the buzzer, everything seems to move in slow motion. Each player’s heart is racing as they wait for the puck to drop. As soon as it occurs, the crowd unleashes a thunderous roar, and adrenaline courses through my veins, like it does every time I play.
Sticks clash, and soon the game is in full swing. I skate forward, crossing the puck to Stanton. He slides away before he fires toward the goal, but it’s saved and the Bulldogs take possession.
Before I can even register what’s happening, their team outmaneuvers us, leaving the puck nestled in the back of our net.
Their fans go wild.
I skate backward, glancing around the crowd as the play starts again.
I don’t know what it is about tonight, but there’s a mysterious scent drifting in the air, distracting my usually focused mind from the game.
Get a grip!
The sound of skates slicing through the ice fills the air as players zoom across the rink. The energy on the ice ramps up a notch, helping me to forget about the lingering scent.
Soon, the stadium is alive with the sounds of skates scraping, sticks clashing, and bodies smacking into each other with deafening force.
The play gets dirtier.
Above all, the sound of the crowd’s thunderous roar echoes through the stadium.
With each slide, each calculated move, I battle against the opposing team’s filthy tactics.
The puck passes through our team, and a surge of adrenaline spikes as I skate toward the goal, ready to catch it and aim at the net. But just as it reaches me, an impact throws my body off balance. The force crashing into me from my right.
“Fuck,” I groan, pushing their right defender off me.
Killian Black, best friends with Raul Simone.
“Did your dad pay for your spot?” Killian yells, his mouth turning into a smirk.
“Did your mother want to give you up at birth? Ugly fucker.” I return his smirk with one of my own, along with a flip of my middle finger, and skate away before I punch the fucker in the throat.
He growls behind me.
“Get back in the game, Lucas!” Coach shouts. His finger pointing toward the goal and the game at play.
I do as I’m asked. I don’t want to lose my place on the team because of retaliation—and I’m not ready to sit on the bench.
This time I keep my eyes on the puck, and not think about the scent floating around as I slide in and out of players with lightning fast speed. I skate forward, positioning myself, ready to take the puck. And when the puck comes toward me, I seize it before spinning toward the goal. There’s the slightest moment of hesitation before I fire the puck past their goalie and into the back of the net.
The crowd roars as we level.
I spin and grin at Killian. Then I glance at the clock... only a few minutes of play remaining.
Which is not a bad thing. Our men are struggling to keep the raging Bulldogs out of our zone.
“Forward!” Coach barks.
Just then, Carver Sinclair makes a quick pass to our new rookie, his brother, Colton, who finds an otherworldly speed. No one can stop him as he effortlessly glides past the opposing players.
And when the crowd hollers as he flicks the puck past the goalie, I smile.
We’ve got this.
And then the buzzer ends the first period of the game.
Two hours later, I stroll into my apartment block alone, pissed with Stanton for doing what he does best. He claims he wants a pack and an omega, yet tonight he broke the rule I gave him.
Not to fuck around.
Stanton and I get on so well. We could be brothers, or pack, but I know when that day comes I need all alphas in my pack to be focused on only the omega.
My stomach already twists at the thought of making her unhappy.
I just can’t do it.
“What’s your words of wisdom today, Trent?” I ask. He’s worked on the door of his apartment block for what feels like forever. And he always has something he wants to impart to me.
He’s older than God and doesn’t have a problem telling me things others won’t. But I admit, sometimes he gets a little too close to my heart, and that grates my nerves. Still, he always speaks the truth.
“Smile. You never know, it might make you feel better about yourself,” he says.
I grumble and give him a smirk.
“One day you’ll smile for real,” he says as I walk away and give him a wave. “You don’t even do it for the cameras... or for the hockey you claim to love.”
With every step I take towards the elevator, I can’t help but reflect on his words. I love hockey and his comment has pissed me off. How can he know when my smiles are real or fake?
Inside my penthouse, I forget about Trent and pour myself a commiserating bourbon. Still annoyed at myself and how we lost the game. We were winning right until the final five minutes.
Then something shifted.
They made some last-minute changes and our team floundered as they scored two goals.
I sigh as I take my cell and check my messages.
Henry: You didn’t look as strong tonight.
I hate that my father still thinks he helped to get my place on the team. Being a high-profile lawyer and now a senator always opened doors. Doors I wanted opening because of my skill, not because of him.
I hit the next of his many messages.
Henry: You need an omega.
A deep groan rattles up my throat as I hit the next message.
Henry: Raine needs an alpha, and she wants children. She can’t keep going into a heat room.
I grumble, “Not my problem.” And take another sip of the amber liquid as I read his next text message.
Henry: Are you not bothered by her being fucked by other alphas?
“No!” I say to no one at all. “Because she isn’t mine.”
I should reply, but I don’t. I drop my body onto the couch and take a sip of my drink before I open an app for BetaFans.
Some of my teammates are on OmegaFans, but I don’t want the temptation of seeing slick between her legs or hearing the little purrs that omegas make.
I choose BetaFans because it provides a sense of detachment, allowing me to walk away with no lingering emotions. I want nothing other than seeing her naked body and ask her to do things to herself that help me get myself off.
The trouble is, I keep coming back to the one girl.
I subscribed to five when I first joined the site out of curiosity, but now I only watch her. My red-headed beta. Her designation is one I’m glad she has. I’m not sure I could control myself if she was an omega.
I click on her name.
Scarlett.
I think it’s her real name. I guess she would’ve picked something more obscure if she wanted to hide herself. She wears a mask, and as much as I’ve tried to make out her features, I only know she has red hair, deep brown eyes, and puffy pink lips. And a mouth I’d love to see sucking my cock.
But I’ll never do that.
I only joined the website because I needed an escape. Needed to speak to someone who doesn’t have a clue who I am.
Another teammate gave me the link, and that same night I joined, scanned through the list of creators that my search returned. I signed up for the ones with blurbs that caught my interest.
In my search, I asked for petite redheads and unchecked the button for New York. I don’t want to meet anyone, planned or otherwise.
Before I found Scarlett, I had already subscribed to five accounts. I never clicked on anymore after that, and over the months, I’ve unsubscribed from the other creators, only paying for her time.
I upgraded my subscription to tier three, which comes with additional benefits. I make it a point to tip generously on every occasion. The background of Scarlett’s videos suggests she may not be financially well-off, and I love to be the one who helps her.
I suppose it’s because I love to hear her laughing and see her smiling, but I get jealous knowing she’s being watched by other men.
And I know I have to remember why I’m on the site, and it’s not to fall in love or get physical with anyone.
There’s nothing more important to me than hockey. But also, my father is a spiteful man. The moment he knows I’ve caught feelings for a woman is the day he’ll push for me to marry his political buddy’s daughter... his omega daughter.
Not that he doesn’t make weekly attempts to get me to meet the girl.I suspect he thinks one day my alpha will need her.
So I refuse. Every single time.
He gets so fucking angry. And, some days I don’t understand myself either. I’m an alpha, she’s an omega, and she should be underneath me right now, taking my knot like a good fucking girl.
But omega or not... I’m not interested in her. She did nothing for me three years ago when she revealed, and she does nothing for me today.
Hopefully, she’ll meet her scent matched alpha, and he’ll steal her away and make her happier than her politically focused father.
Scarlett is online. A red circle is around her photo, which means someone is paying her extra for personal time. It shouldn’t, but it bothers me when she speaks to others the same way that she does with me.
To calm my racing pulse, I take a deep breath through my nose, knowing all too well that I’m not the only one vying for her attention.
And I don’t understand why this beta makes me feel the way she does. Perhaps it’s the way she smiles at the camera, or the ease with which she shares personal details about her life, which makes me realize how guarded I am about my own life.
I know she lives with her mother and two sisters. I also know her father left when she was a very young girl.
I never told her about my father, or that my mother left us, or that my brother worked in the city, but after he had a meltdown at work, he’s now on a year-long journey around the world.
I never told her my younger sister aspires to be a doctor when she told me it was the first thing she wanted to do in her life.
Or that I’m a hockey star.
In fact, the only thing she knows about me is that I’m an alpha. She saw my knot and asked why I was on BetaFans and not OmegaFans.
I wish I knew the answer.
The circle around her photo goes green, making my heart pound just knowing I’ll get to talk to her again.
I hit her call button. I normally send her a message first, but after my evening, I want to hear her sweet voice and the laughter that lies behind it. I’m not waiting for any longer.
“Hi Henryluvsbetas,” she sing-songs.
Yeah, I know the name is lame. And what the fuck made me pick Henry?
When I signed up, I thought of my father and how much he’d be disgusted with me being on the website. So I had to use his name, knowing it’s the one thing he’d hate.
She turns her camera so I can see her, but she can’t see me smiling, but it’s like she does, and she smiles back at me and my dick is already hard.