Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
KOEN
Note: next time, I need to make sure I don’t tell my agent when I leave town to see my parents.
They’re in the city of angels on vacation, and they begged me to come out to see them. My schedule is typically insane, but I caved because I knew I’d have a few days of downtime.
My plan was to do nothing but read and rot in bed in Minnesota.
It goes to show that even the best laid plans have a tendency to go tits up.
Instead, I’m now in a suit at a charity event.
The goal is for the sports players in attendance to help loosen funds for the city’s youth programs by speaking to potential donors.
I know how important they are because I was once one of the kids who attended programs like this back home. My agent knows this, which is how she convinced me to come.
My lips lift into a practiced smile as I listen to a woman’s excited questions about hockey, and I respond in a way that doesn’t make her think I’m bored. I’m not, her questions are actually really good, but visiting with my parents always exhausts me.
They always seem to find every live nerve in my system to poke at it until I feel like I’m going to explode.
My parents want to know when I’m going to settle down, because they want grandchildren.
I haven’t come out to them yet, despite being thirty-two years old.
It’s not that I don’t think they’d accept me, but instead because they’d immediately try to set me up with people.
Relationships aren’t something I’m interested in. Too many people want to date a hockey player for the thrill of it, or to use them. I’m also not home very much, which means that I’d constantly feel as if I need to apologize to anyone I’m with for doing my job.
No, it’s easier to stay single. I’m not a virgin, and I did have a small streak of time where I slept around when I was a rookie player.
However, I stuck to betas only, and refused to spend too much time around alphas outside of my teammates.
Even then, the words of my coach as a kid still ring loudly in my ears.
There are good men on my team. I know not one of them is a rapist. We all take care of each other when we go out, we fight for each other on the ice, and we’re really tight.
That doesn’t keep me from keeping my personal shit private or smearing a line of alpha pheromone suppressant cream under my nose to ensure that I’m not influenced by alpha pheromones on or off the ice.
I’ve become more and more paranoid with each passing year, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“These programs are important for kids,” I say to the older woman in front of me.
“I don’t know if I’d be playing professionally if I wasn’t introduced to hockey when I was younger.
It kept me out of trouble and focused on what’s important.
I was too exhausted after practice to even think about sneaking out. ”
“You sound like you were a dream kid for your parents,” she says with a grin.
“Hockey is expensive as a sport,” I admit, wincing.
“While these programs help give kids a taste of the addictive nature of skating and the excitement of sinking a puck, it can be hard for parents to be able to fund it as a serious sport. I was lucky enough to get scholarships and I was able to walk or catch the bus to practice.”
“It sounds like I need to ask some more questions about where the money is going,” she says, pursing her lips.
“I’m not saying that this charity doesn’t have its heart in the right place,” I say with a wince. Shit. Why am I here? I’m definitely fucking this up.
“No, and I won’t say anything to the contrary,” she says.
“However, there has to be something in place to make sure that kids can attend the programs. Bus passes, shuttles to events, etc. You have a perspective on this that is important, Koen. I’m here because I already plan to donate, but if I can offer some direction or insight into what needs to be funded, I will. ”
Patting my arm with a nod, she bustles off to find one of the coordinators for the event to ask her questions.
“That was ballsy. I like it,” a smooth voice says behind me.
Turning to glance over my shoulder, I fiddle with my cuff links. Are they a little fussy? Maybe, but I like the way they look. They are also one of the first things I gifted to myself when I made it onto a team.
My agent has been fighting for me since I pitched myself to her.
She says she sees the fire inside of me for a sport she loves, and helped me get onto a team where I feel safe.
It took eight years, but I appreciate her so much.
None of them are interested in fucking with me for being an omega, and I just made Captain.
If I have to suck it up and attend events like this for Caitlyn Donners, I will. The charity is solid, my views on what it takes to actually make a difference are what gets me into trouble.
“It’s simply the truth,” I explain, shrugging.
The man in front of me is obviously an alpha, and I can feel his confidence from here. It makes me glad that I can’t smell him, not when he looks like a walking sex billboard. His red hair and scruff makes his blue suit appear more comfortable, and I have to admit that it looks good on him.
Swallowing hard, I remind myself that I am not going to entertain any thoughts about this man when I know he’ll be able to scent my arousal if I do.
“Not many people are willing to look too hard at where the money is going,” the alpha says with a shrug. Putting out his hand, he adds, “I’m Skylar Reynolds. My boyfriend is running around here somewhere chatting people up.”
My eyebrow raises at the name. I’ve both heard of him and played against his team once or twice over the years.
The Los Angeles Angels are having a decent season, and Skylar has been with them for a couple of years.
My coach has been having us learn all that we can about them before we play against them this weekend.
The Angels are fierce, and their goalie is better than ours.
“I’m Koen,” I finally reply, shaking his hand.
Like many hockey players, he has callouses on his hand that makes me think about very wicked things, and I release him as soon as is socially acceptable.
“Is that like Prince or Madonna?” he teases me, his arm hooking through mine as he drags me into a walk.
“What?” I ask, dazed by his touch.
Get it the fuck together, Koen.
“Oh. No, not really. I guess I just stopped giving my last name after a while,” I explain. “People either know who I am or it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s a terrible reason not to give your last name,” Skylar says with a snort.
“Let’s see how far we can open people’s wallets, shall we?
The people coordinating this do care about how accessible their program is, and they’ll let Mrs. Travers know that.
However, it’s nice that you made a point to share that. ”
God, I forgot her name almost immediately. Does he know everyone here?
“I feel bad now,” I sigh. “I get a little nervous at these things.”
“Giving back is part of using our power and fame for good,” Skylar says without appearing upset. “You’re kind of far from home, though, aren’t you?”
“So you do know who I am?” I ask, my lips twitching.
I tend not to mix with other teams very much because of my concerns for safety. I play the game, do my job with the press, and then head home. I know who he is because it’s part of knowing your opponents.
“We’re playing your team this weekend,” Skylar says with a chuckle. “I don’t know everyone in the league until it’s necessary, but you’re hard not to recognize.”
“I tend to keep my head down,” I admit. “Unless I’m on the ice, I don’t make it a point to be known.”
“That’s why people pay attention,” Skylar retorts. “You’re careful to stay out of trouble, and you’re scrappy. You shouldn’t be in half the fights that you throw yourself into.”
“Seriously?” I ask, forgetting my nerves as I glare at him. Who the fuck does he think he is? “I’m the captain. I’m going to defend my teammates as I see fit. It’s not exactly as if I’m a hothead.”
“No, but you’re an omega. Of course, you’re a big fucker for an omega, but still. If you were on my team, I’d be pulling you out of the scraps you get into,” Skylar says with a wry grin.
Rolling my shoulders back, I try to pull out of his grasp, but he won’t allow me to. Ugh he’s too fucking close.
“Ah. There’s Rhodes now,” Skylar says. “As usual, he’s entertaining people.”
There’s a large man smiling and talking with a group, his hands moving as he speaks. His dark hair almost appears black and is slicked back perfectly, and when he turns, I see what appears to be a corset.
Wow. He’s unapologetically himself.
“Isn’t he perfect?” Skylar asks, admiring him. “He didn’t want to come either, but once he’s in his element, he’s fine. He was a bad boy, and I’m sure his ass still hurts. You’d never know it, huh?”
My jaw drops at his words, surprised at how comfortable he is talking about his relationship.
I am very aware of the way my actions are perceived, which is why I have anxiety at events.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to tell me that he fucked him into the mattress or spanked him, but I find myself watching Rhodes to see if there’s any hints of soreness.
The alpha has a great poker face, because I can’t see anything that’ll tell me he’s uncomfortable.
“You wouldn’t,” I mumble, allowing Skylar to pull me toward the group.
“You talk a really good game, Rhodes,” one of the men says as we join them. “Besides, it’s for the kids, right? Will you make sure this gets into the correct hands, please?”
Rhodes takes an envelope with a nod, and others fill out checks and hand it to him as well. My jaw goes slack as the group disperses, and Rhodes sees me.
“Skylar, did you make a new friend?” he asks, his full lips smirking.