Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
ASH
The whole box cringes as one as two players crash hard into the Plexiglas.
“He and Deacon just rotated off to catch their breath,” Liam says as he rubs my back. Everywhere he touches is lava-hot.
“This is so much harder to follow in person without the TV guy telling you what’s happening. Is that him? Next to the guy in the beard.”
“They all have beards, Ash,” Pierce laughs, crowding closer to the glass beside me. “It’s the playoffs. No one shaves during the playoffs.”
“Do they all have stinky bags full of stinky socks too?” I nod like I understand these sacred hockey traditions. I don’t. But I’m learning.
“Worse,” Pierce mutters.
The crowd erupts as something happens that I completely miss. Pierce and Liam groan in unison. Alexei shouts something in Russian that doesn’t need translation.
“What? What just happened?” I crane my neck, trying to follow the action.
“Penalty,” Liam explains. “That gives the Panthers a power play.”
I nod again, pretending I remember what a power play is. I’ve watched a lot of hockey in the past few weeks, but I’m still learning the vocabulary, still catching up. Everyone else seems born knowing these things.
“They’re down by one with less than ten minutes left,” Pierce mutters, drumming his fingers against the glass. “Fuck.”
“We got this. 10 minutes left. Plenty of time after the power play to get that point back.”
“Babe, drink this. You’re sweating.” Bella hands me a giant glass of water with no ice.
Of course I’m sweating. This is so fucking stressful.
I’m not even on the ice and I feel like it’s all happening to me.
I feel a stab of guilt. Alexei let me bring Bella, Estelle and Tia, but I’ve paid no attention to them.
Beckett has been tense, but Liam and Pierce? Bonkers. They have pretty much dropped everything and have been wound so tight they might explode.
“There,” Liam points to a player jumping over the boards. He pivots, and I see “33” on his jersey. I focus on Beckett as he skates into position. He looks different on the ice. Nothing like the man who curls around me at night, nose buried in my hair and tells me how beautiful I am.
“Beckett is playing like man possessed,” Alexei comments, coming to stand beside us. “Best game of the season. Must be following playoff tradition, yes?”
“What tradition?” I ask, sipping my water when Bella nudges me.
“No shaving, no sex during playoffs. Conserve energy. Channel aggression.” He taps his temple. “Mental focus.”
My eyes widen as I turn to Pierce, keeping my voice low but urgent. “Pierce, we’ve been having a lot of sex. A lot. Is he going to lose because of me?”
Pierce snorts and rolls his eyes. “Ignore him. That’s bullshit sports superstition.”
“The socks?” I remind him that I got yelled at for almost washing Beckett’s lucky socks.
I can literally see his brain doing backflips to justify this.
“Beckett’s playing great because he’s happy.” He gives me a significant look. “Because of you.”
“Hockey players and their rituals,” Sandra chimes in, sliding up beside her alpha. “Alexei wouldn’t knot me during our first championship run. Thank god I didn’t go into heat. He would only allow his practice gear to be hand washed. I insisted on hiring a maid.”
“And we won,” Alexei says proudly.
“And our bedroom smelled like a locker room,” Sandra counters.
The penalty ends, and the pace of the game picks up. I’m trying to focus, really trying. The room suddenly seems too warm. The collar of my sweater itchy against my neck. I shift my weight, tugging at the fabric.
“Watch this,” Pierce says, tapping the glass. “Beckett’s going to intercept—there!”
Beckett swoops in, stealing the puck and charging down the ice. The crowd noise swells, and I feel it vibrate through my chest. I press closer to the glass, drawn to its cool surface. My skin feels tight, sensitive.
He passes it with a flick of his wrist and then gets slammed into the glass. I yelp. I may never get used to seeing him get smashed like that.
Not five seconds later, Beckett body-checks a Panther player. They tussle, Beckett elbows him in the gut.
Something, somewhere deep inside my body, snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight. Everything about what I’m seeing changes. It’s not blurry movements and stupid rules. It’s huge, buff, alphas, all sweaty and smelling good, moving their bodies. With big hands, big shoulder, big cocks.
“Oh.”
“What?” Liam side-eyes me with a little concern.
“You’re right. It’s hot when he’s the smasher, not the smashee.”
Liam chuckles and turns back to the game.
I catch Sandra and Bella exchanging a look. Sandra slides closer, offering me an icy bottle of water I didn’t ask for. “Drink,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with assessment. I take it without thinking, the plastic cool against my fingers that suddenly feel too hot.
“You’re flushed,” Bella notes, stepping closer. Her hand brushes my arm. “Let’s get this sweater off you.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, but even to my own ears, my voice sounds tight, strained. I shrug away from her touch, which feels like sandpaper against my oversensitive skin.
“One goal. You will give me one goal!” Alexei demands, like the players are ready to obey him.
I press the cold water bottle against my forehead, against the back of my neck. It helps for a moment, then doesn’t. Everything feels wrong, like my skin is shrinking around my body. I take a quick sip of water, but my throat feels too tight to swallow properly.
“Come on, Beckett,” Pierce mutters beside me. I look away from him as his scent swallows me. It’s so thick, I can basically feel it on my skin, like hundreds of fingers raising goosebumps where his scent touches me.
I shift my weight again, unable to stand still. My thighs press together. The seam of my jeans suddenly feels too rough, too present. You shouldn’t ever notice the seam of your pants, right? I try to focus on the ice, on finding Beckett among the players, but my vision keeps blurring at the edges.
“Here,” Bella says, more insistent now. Before I can protest, she’s tugging at my sweater. “Arms up.”
I comply without thinking, desperate for any relief from the heat building under my skin. The cooler air hits my arms, my back, but it’s not enough. I’m wearing a tank top underneath, but even that feels like too much fabric.
“Better?” Sandra asks, her voice low, meant only for me.
I shake my head, unable to form words. A sheen of sweat breaks out across my collarbone, down my back. The crowd roars, but it sounds distant now, like I’m underwater. I blink hard, trying to clear my vision, to find Beckett.
“Ash needs some air,” Bella says quietly to Estelle, who nods and steps back, making space.
But I don’t need air. I need—I need cock. Right now. I need my alphas to pin me down and fill me up.
“Two minutes left!” Alexei shouts, his voice cutting through my fog. “They must score now!”
It can’t be. It can’t be happening right now.
I turn to Bella, eyes wide with panic and heat…
Oh my god. Heat.
Pierce’s head whips toward me, his eyes darkening. He takes a half-step closer, then stops himself, hands clenching at his sides. Liam is suddenly there too, moving to stand slightly between me and the rest of the room, his back to the glass.
“Ash,” he says, voice pitched low. “You’re—“
“Fine,” I grit out. “I’m fine.”
But I’m not fine. My heart races, my skin burns, and there’s an empty ache spreading through. I close my eyes briefly, willing it away, but a cramp answers me. There’s nothing on earth like a heat cramp.
I force my eyes open, determined to see this through. Beckett is on the ice, fighting for the puck along the boards.
“She needs to leave,” Sandra murmurs to Bella, not quite quietly enough. “We’ll get Beckett.”
“Not yet,” I manage, though speaking requires effort now. My legs feel unsteady beneath me. I reach for the edge of the table, gripping it for support. “Beckett will win the game. I’m not fucking this up for him.”
Sandra looks at me like I’m dumb. Bella is right there next to me. She puts her arm around my waist and pulls me tight. The pandemonium of the room around us fades until it’s just us three omegas in a standoff for the ages.
“You cannot go into heat in a stadium full of thousands of alphas, in front of my alpha,” Sandra hisses through clenched teeth.
“I am not moving until my alpha wins.” My anger is hotter than the heat flares.
“You have to go.”
“No.”
The arena explodes into cheers and screams, shaking the ground beneath us!
“Goooooooaaaaaaal!”
“They did it!”
“They tied!”
“Overtime! Sudden death!”
The Scorpions chant starts.
“Okay! That’s that. Girl code says the omega going into heat holds the trump card.” Bella might be blond and perky, but not even Sandra can beat her when she gets like this.
“Okay boys!” Bella claps her hands decisively twice. The room barely notices her until Estelle puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles. The sound is so high-pitched it could break glass.
“Time to go! Everybody get the fuck out.”
The room of mostly men, alphas and betas, goes dead silent, dumbstruck.
Tia puts out her hands as if she’s herding cattle. “We have a situation. Everyone needs to clear the room. Right now.”
“Are you fucking nuts? They tied the game. They are about to start overtime.” That comes from some beta in a suit I was never introduced to.
Liam takes in the scene, going from face to face of the women who surround me. When he finally gets to me, I can see him doing the math in his head. He mouths the word “fuck”.
“Okay, cupcake,” Bella flips her hair back and puts her hands on her hips. “There’s an omega about to go into heat. If you don’t get the fuck out right now, I will let her alphas loose and I will enjoy watching them tear you apart and then I’ll use your small intestines for a jump rope. Mm-kay?”
That beta looks from Bella, to Liam, to Pierce, then puts his drink down and gets the fuck out. There’s a rush for the door.
“We need security,” Liam's voice is a little high-pitched.
“On it.” Estelle’s head is down, in her phone, typing furiously. “My cousin says he’s sending an all-beta security team, and he’s working on locking down the floor.”
“Your cousin?” I ask, fanning myself. It’s way too fucking hot.
“Yeah, Carmen.”
“You’re cousins with Carmen Montenegro, head of security for the Pinnacle Arena?” Pierce asks. Estelle shrugs.
“We should get Beckett,” Liam whispers.
“No! I’m not ruining this for him. My alpha is going to win. He’s earned this. It’s just heat. It’s not a big deal.” Just as the words come out of my mouth, a cramp hits and I double over, groaning.
“But Beckett would want to be here.”
“No means no, Liam. Don’t argue with your fucking omega.” Bella steps right into his personal space. “You take care of her. Let Beckett play. We’ll take care of everything else.”
“I will guard the door. You enjoy my suite. We’ll bring the Cup here once we claim it.” Alexei motions the stragglers out the door and takes Sandra’s hand as they exit.
“We got this. We’ve handled worse.” Estelle pats Liam on the arm.
“You keep saying that. What’s worse?” I ask, wiping sweat off my brow. She just winks at me.
Estelle is still texting with Tia leaning over her shoulder as they step out too. Bella, bouncing on her feet, kisses my cheek and skips after them.
Alexei’s box is eerily quiet now that it’s just us. I crack open the bottle of water Sandra gave me and grimace. It’s not icy cold anymore.
When I pick my head up, my alphas look like someone pressed pause. Liam’s eyes keep shifting from me and the windows overlooking the rink.
Pierce swallows hard and says. “We’re suing the therapist.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I croak out. Why am I so thirsty?
“There was not a single book about heat on the fucking reading list.”
I trade a glance with Liam just as the giggles start. And then we all lose it.