Chapter 36
Jasper
“Are you sure you won’t be recognized?” Mable asked quietly as we filtered through the crowd towards our seats.
She was finally attending her first game.
When Saint had suggested the box where a lot of the team’s family watched, she had gone pale and insisted that she didn’t want that.
Our relationship was pretty new, even though we were dead serious about her, so I could appreciate her not wanting to be thrown into the deep end.
If it were up to me, I would have had her sitting in one of the boxes and shown her off to all of our teammates and family.
Luckily, I wasn’t playing. My shoulder was still sore after the last pre-season game, and after a quick chat with Coach, he agreed to keep me off the ice for the next game to preserve my strength for the games that mattered, meaning I could attend with my Maple girl.
Spencer was also with us, sitting in the row behind, keeping a close eye on us. He looked hilarious as a fan, dressed in jeans and a hockey jersey. Saint had tried to convince him to wear the team beanie, complete with pompom, but he’d rejected that with an instant scowl.
“I think I look pretty inconspicuous.” I grinned, using my hand on her lower back to guide her toward our seats.
I was wearing a baseball cap—with the California Chargers logo on it, of course—and my glasses. Between the shade of the hat covering my eyes and the tinted glasses, I doubted anyone would recognize me.
“Your face is plastered all over the arena. How do you think no one's going to recognize you?” she asked in disbelief.
I chuckled. “It’s the glasses, no one recognizes Clark Kent when he wears his. Plus, everyone expects me to be either in the locker room or up in the boxes with the rest of the family. This is the last place they would imagine I would watch the game.”
Mable took in the arena with a mixture of awe and unease on her face. “It’s gigantic,” she whispered, leaning over so I could hear her over the sound of hundreds of people talking. “How many people are here?”
“I think the rink has about twenty thousand seats, maybe a little less?”
Her eyes widened as she nodded, gently chewing on her lip. “That’s a lot of people…”
“It is,” I agreed. The crowds were just part of my day-to-day life, but seeing them through her eyes was interesting, to say the least. Her hands balled in her lap as her gaze darted around the arena.
Throwing one of my arms over the back of her seat, I leaned in close, basking in the maple scent I was very much addicted to.
“So this game doesn’t count?” she asked, her face scrunched in confusion as she leaned over so I could hear her.
“Not really,” I said. “It’s a preseason game, but we still take them pretty seriously. They are kind of like warm-up games for the regular season, and they also let us scope out the competition.”
“Right, okay. That makes sense.” Mable still seemed distracted and a bit off. I could smell the subtle shift in her scent as the nerves got the better of her. “So, um, it’s still important to win, though, right?”
“It’s always important to win, but”—I angled her a little closer, scooting her way so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable, then wrapped my arm around her—“it’s also fun. Which is what you should be having. I promise. We’re okay.”
She frowned up at me, trying to turn it into a smile, and I kissed the top of Mable’s head.
“Spencer is right there. See? Everyone is watching the game.” I took my free hand and rubbed it over her belly, trying to send out as much calming energy as I could. “And you have me. I’m right here.”
Looking back at Spencer and then down to my hand on her stomach, Mable relaxed, her sweet scent returning to normal. She released a heavy breath, relaxing into my hold, and this time, her smile was genuine.
“Thank you.” Mable perked up, looking out over the ice, and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Go, Chargers!”
All I could do was laugh. I liked this. I liked going with Mable to games and being out in public with her—a lot.
After a while, Mable got even more into the spirit of things, and I’d managed to snag us some drinks and snacks so we could munch while the guys played. They were doing awesome, of course, and it was a treat to see Mable get all excited and cheer with her mouth full of nachos.
“See, it’s fun, right?”
She grinned at me. “It’s so fun. I’m—Oh, oh, oh! Go, Saint!”
As she shouted, I followed Mable’s eyeline to where Saint was skating across the ice, controlling the puck.
There was a good distance between him and the defending players as he charged towards the goal.
He was going to score. There was no way for the opposing team to stop him, and I smiled and cheered with Mable as Saint drove it home and launched the puck past the goalie.
The crowd erupted as he scored, and it didn’t take long for a significant number of Saint fanatics to start losing their minds. Desperate sounds and screams echoed around us, and the line of Saint girls who were seated down our row all stood and jumped up and down.
Christ, they’re going to fall out of their tops.
I started to laugh, amused by the modifications they’d made to the standard jersey and paint scrawled across their tits in team colors. But a bitter scent hit me hard, and I looked back at Mable to see her glaring, a little growl trapped in her throat.
“You all right there, Mable?” I tried to hide the smirk as she scowled at them, which was way more adorable than I think she would have liked.
She shook herself, seeming to realize she’d been eye-murdering a bunch of horny Saint girls.
“Yes, sorry. Ignore me.”
Mable went back to enjoying her nachos, and we both focused on the game again, losing ourselves in the action and cheering as our boys absolutely creamed the other team.
As the stadium began to empty, I guided Mable over to where the pack would come out of a back door.
On our way, however, the same Saint Squad shoved up towards the ledge where they could get a glimpse of him going into the locker room.
They shouted and called his name. Hell, some of them even cried.
It was a bit much for my taste, and clearly for Mable’s, as well, because she was back to growling at them.
I pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head as we both watched Saint wave politely and then disappear into the locker room tunnel.
“He doesn’t care about them, baby. You don’t need to worry.”
She scoffed. “Oh, it’s not him. Did you see those girls? Their boobs hanging out, signs of ‘Will You Marry Me?’ Saint is not available.”
“Oh.” My mouth dropped before it turned into a grin, a very pleased grin.
Mable wasn’t jealous. She was protective. Those fans were looking at what belonged to her.
That was so damn cute.
We waited by the side for a few more minutes, the Saint Squad sticking around to see if they could catch another sight of him, and Mable didn’t stop glaring in their direction.
Still, before long, Saint and the others came out of the back door.
As soon as the rest of my pack laid eyes on her, they all rushed up to Mable, including Saint.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Saint was all smiles, scooping Mable up against his chest. “Did you see that fantastic goal of mine?”
Mable instantly relaxed, and I couldn’t help but smile. Everything was right in her world now, and syrupy goodness was back at full strength.
“I did.” Mable beamed, her cheeks slightly pink.
“Good, because it was all for you.”
That made her smile even bigger, and then Devin was patting Saint on the shoulder. “All right, let’s get home. I’m sure we’ve all got things we want to do.”
The pack lead’s tone was unmistakable. Oh, yes, we do, buddy. Oh, yes, we do.