Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Vonn
“You played like shit. You played like shit…” My pads are heavy, weighing down my legs as I hobble off the ice on my sharp skates.
Julius, our team captain, a giant asshole and my packmate, announces our failings as each team member shuffles past him.
This new tradition is one we all hate, but when I told him to cut the shit, he just scoffed and flipped me off.
I love him, but there’s just no reasoning with the Alpha.
Still, if he thinks this is a way to get us playing more cohesively as a team, he’s dead wrong.
My stomach clenches, wondering what he’ll say to me, but his angry hazel eyes slice me to ribbons without a single word falling from his lips.
And well, I guess that’s fair. He can’t tell me how shitty a player I am when I spent the entire game warming the bench.
As a backup goaltender, I’m a redundancy on the roster.
And to be honest, I’m not even sure I deserve that position.
I’ve never made a save in a professional game.
Whether that’s because I never get a chance or because I’m just no good is anyone’s guess.
The coaches say I have potential, but I’ve never stepped between the bars outside of practice.
The desire to find something else has been niggling at me more and more lately. But would you leave a semi-lucrative salary as a benchwarmer to pursue your passion? And what the fuck is my passion?
A deep sigh bursts from my lungs as the team marches through the tunnel and into the locker room. After stumbling over to the wooden bench, I plop down on it and begin unfastening the tiny buckles on my pads. These fucking things.
Grunting and groaning, I remove all my equipment, then glance around, only to realize that pretty much everyone else has disappeared into the showers already. Everyone except Julius…
“You good?” he asks, breaking his usual ‘I’m a dick’ vibe now that everyone else is gone. Because the funny thing is, his whole captain persona is a disguise. A way for him to hide the truly decent man who lives behind his gruff demeanor.
“Of course I’m fine. I didn’t even play—just had the best seats in the house to watch our team get their asses whipped.” Standing, I turn toward my locker for my towel, but my eyes snag on the fuzzy gray sweatpants instead. Should I get cleaned up or just go the hell home?
“Whatever. Don’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself.” Julius nabs a towel from his locker and tosses it over his well-defined shoulders. “Let’s get a move on, then go grab a drink at Slap Shots and maybe find a pretty beta to take to the Eiffel Tower tonight.”
He chuckles darkly, and while we’ve shared many “pretty betas” before, nothing sounds less appealing.
Watching so many of our teammates find their omegas recently has me all up in my feels.
But sharing yet another puck bunny won’t ease that ache.
I’m ready to try courting someone. Swallowing hard, I get ready to tell Julius.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, as they have been for the last few weeks.
A commotion pulls my attention, and I realize other teammates are returning. This isn’t the time or place for a real discussion.
“I think I’m just gonna head home.” I shrug, grabbing my pants and hoodie. The soft material slips over my slightly sweaty skin, but I ignore it, ready to get the hell out of here. Away from the disappointment and toxic aura surrounding the arena.
“Seriously? To do what? Jerk off to Ms. Perky Tits on the computer?” He crosses his arms and frowns at me, frustration souring his fresh lemon scent enough to cut through the thick layers of Alpha pheromones and perspiration that permeate this room.
But it’s not him I’m worried about. Chase snickers, and embarrassment flushes my cheeks. That’s exactly what I was planning to do, but people knowing is simply mortifying.
“Come on, man! Why would you do that when we could have a real woman sandwiched between us instead?” Because one-night stands are meaningless.
The words flit through my mind, but the sensation of eyes creeps up my back.
The rest of the team is filtering into the locker room, meaning we have an audience, and there’s no way I’m going to pour my heart out in front of the other Alphas.
Pack business needs to stay between us. But since coming across that sweet omega’s channel, she’s all I can think about.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m tired and not in the mood to go drinking,” I lie through my teeth. With my stuff in my hand, I rush for the door before he has a chance to argue about it some more.
I’m not in the mood for people. I’m not in the mood for drinks. And it’s not Julius’s decision.
His eyes burn into my back, but I head for the door.
With a big push, it swings open into the hallway, allowing the cool arena air to fan my face.
Back here, it’s fairly quiet. The hustle and bustle of people leaving doesn’t quite reach the back pathways to the team's private parking lot. Since the rest of the team is still cleaning up in the locker room, I’m the first to leave, and my feet echo as they smack along the shiny stadium flooring.
“Vonn!” a feminine voice shouts from behind me, and it takes a moment for me to place it. “Just who I wanted to see.”
Holding in a bitter groan, I turn to find Marilyn, our team’s head of PR, rushing toward me.
The she-Alpha never seems to hurry, so my interest is piqued.
A large smile tightens her face—curiouser and curiouser.
Usually the picture of confidence and poise, something has clearly caused her excitement, and I’m not sure whether to cheer or be terrified.
“Hi, Marilyn!” I shift from foot to foot, one of my anxious tells, but she doesn’t know me well enough to recognize it. “What can I do for you?”
She comes closer, heels clacking and breath puffing from the slight exertion. One by one, she’s been assigning my teammates to random duties. Duties that seem to result in happily-ever-afters with sweet omegas. And it’s like fire ants crawling under my skin, waiting for my turn. Our turn.
Is that something we’re even ready for? No.
And there’s already…
I want to run away, get home, log into my computer, and become PuckNut88.
But a smart man doesn’t ignore Marilyn, especially not an easily replaceable bench jockey like me.
“I have a few publicity options for you. Can we find a time to chat about which you’re most suited to?” The second she stops in front of me, my nose twitches. There’s something different in the air. Floral? Fruity?
It’s faint, but my Alpha roars to the forefront. I step closer, invading Marilyn’s personal bubble, but my feet have a mind of their own. Flaring my nostrils, I valiantly try to suck that scent deep into my lungs. My very soul.
I can’t place it. But I know I need more.
“Marilyn, what is that perfume?” I ask through gritted teeth, clenching my hands. The urge to grab the she-Alpha and root out the scent like a bomb sniffing canine is overpowering, and I dig my nails into my palms to the point of pain to curb the impulse.
“Humm?” She runs her hands over her shirt as though searching before staring at me, completely perplexed.
“I’m not wearing any…” Her voice trails off, and the scent that hit me so hard seems to float away, propelled by the scent blockers pumped through the stadium.
The loss is a punch to the gut, an impact I never saw coming.
And I’d do anything to get it back.
A shrewd light gleams from her eyes, and she scans my body, assessing. Not sexually, but like she knows something I don’t. And I don’t like that one little bit.
“Never mind, I have just the assignment for you. Bring Julius to my office tomorrow to discuss your pack project.”
Wait. What?
A thousand questions bombard my brain. But I want to ask her about the scent again. Was it an omega she met? Some kind of dessert? Just a random person she bumped into?
But she’s already dismissed me, sauntering away without a care in the world.
“What time?” I shout at her disappearing back.
“Noon,” her faint voice clarifies. “Bring lunch. I’ll text you my order.”
Getting Julius up and out of the house by that time is going to be difficult, but come hell or high water, I’m going to make it happen.
Something tells me this is going to change our lives.