Chapter 15
Saint
Fiancée.
What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d spouted it off with ease, so much so the shock and awe factor had quickly turned into heavy applause as the crowd had continued shouting my name.
Although I had seen some pretty dire looks from women I’d casually dated before. They wanted to kill Lily, as if she was the problem.
She was pissed. Of that I had no doubt. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I’d thought the idea would keep the heat off the melee I’d been involved in with Rocco.
I cringed as the team was pushed forward, already being hounded by dozens of reporters. No longer was their desperate need to take their five minutes of my time solely about the game. Tossing Lily my jersey had been easy. Then I’d fucking lost my mind and acted on a whim.
One that could cost me.
“Congratulations, buddy. I didn’t know you were a commitment kind of guy.” Eric snorted as he pounded me on the back.
“A fiancée, huh?” Pete wasn’t the only puck magnet tonight. While his words were coated in heavy sarcasm, he was enjoying the spotlight as much as the rest of the team.
The mob mentality continued as we were led from the arena toward the locker room, dozens of reporters in tow.
I continued to glance over my shoulder searching for any sign that Lily had been led away from the chaos to the designated meeting spot.
I’d sent several of the team’s security personnel to find her just in case she became the target of unwanted wrath.
Women could be so petty.
I gritted my teeth as I tried to drown out the noise. The questions were flying fast and furious.
“How long have you been dating?”
“When did you pop the question?”
“Was your proposal romantic?”
Suddenly, the huge win was taking a backseat to my fake engagement.
I lagged behind the rest of the team, still hounded but ignoring the reporters. My skin was crawling, the desire to taste the stunning woman crowding out the anger I’d felt at Rocco’s bullshit.
The longer I waited, the more I realized she wasn’t coming. Goddamn it. Well, I’d go to her damn apartment if necessary. Maybe I’d learn how to apologize. I turned, shaking my head when I felt his presence.
Rocco.
I could gather his stench from anywhere and it had little to do with his sweaty uniform.
He was another goddamn shifter. Right now, putting two of us anywhere close was bad news for the public.
Both our bodies had crackled with electricity from coming close to shifting.
The moment I jerked to face him, he was on me, trying to throw a punch. I caught his hand mid-action, twisting his arm at an angle that should have snapped his wrist.
It didn’t.
“You have a fiancée, you fuck?” Rocco hissed. The bastard was grinning even though he had to be in tremendous pain.
“This is between you and me.”
“Maybe I’ll find some time to sully her… reputation since you ain’t a real man.”
The bastard could have said anything in the world to me and eventually, I would have blown it off.
Not this time.
Why? Because he’d threatened my woman.
“You touch her, you die!” I smashed his head against the wall, creating a dent in the wallboard.
The gasps from others were ones of terror and shock.
He shoved me hard enough that my body was pitched back by ten or more feet. The good news was that the reporters had moved out of the way. The bad news was that they’d caught every frame of our fight, our inhuman fight. The videos would be all over the news.
That didn’t matter to either of us. Our hatred went way back.
I retaliated, tossing him up in the air like he was a rag doll. He came down hard, the brutal thud forcing silence in the entire corridor.
“Hey. Hey!” Coach Cavanaugh yelled. He had four security officers with him, two of them getting between us.
The coach grabbed my arms, pushing me back. “He fucking threatened her. He fucking threatened he’d put his hands on Lily!” I tried to shove my way past the man, but the coach was having none of it. Jonathan was suddenly there, jerking me by the arm.
“Let it go. He’s trying to psyche you out,” he said as he got directly in my face.
Ordinary, I’d finally realize he was right. Not this time. Rocco was being serious.
As if to prove a point, the fucker puckered his lips and stuck his finger into his mouth, pumping a few times.
It took the two security guards and my coach to keep me from beating Rocco to a pulp.
“Just calm the fuck down,” Coach Cavanaugh hissed.
I stood where I was with my chest puffed out until Rocco was forced out of view.
“Fuck.” I slammed my hand on the wall and everyone jumped.
“It’s all done, folks. Just boys being boys,” Jonathan said, trying to make light of what happened.
I was led down the corridor. It felt like I was some damn prisoner. If the man laid a hand on her, there could be no way I’d be able to control my rage. None.
When we reached the locker room, the coach pulled away, slapping his hands on his hips. I don’t know what kind of reaction I’d expected from the man, but his eyes told the story. He wasn’t thrilled I’d taken the opportunity to spout off something so personal.
Add that to what had happened both on and off the ice and I was close to hanging myself with the rope I’d been provided.
My teammates weren’t happy either, every one of them grumbling through their fake words of congratulations.
And hissing about Rocco.
At least the reporters were yet to be allowed in, but we wouldn’t be able to hold them off for long.
The coach rolled his hand through his hair and got in my face.
His voice was quiet, very quiet. Dangerously so.
“I know you have a beef with Rocco. Who the fuck doesn’t.
What he did on the ice was bullshit and he should be fined.
However, you fell for his bait. And don’t get me started about the fiancée crap.
I don’t know what to say to you any longer.
You’re lucky we fucking won. Now, you’re going to act professional when you talk to the reporters.
Thank God they all know you’re on an adrenaline high or they’d start questioning the werewolf shit all over again. Do you hear me? Keep yourself calm.”
I took a deep breath, finally nodding. “I hear you, Coach.”
“Good. Let them in,” he barked at Jonathan before glaring at every other player. “That goes for the rest of you as well. You’re a fucking team. Act like one.”
Thankfully, the reporters were still eager.
“Savage. Can I have five minutes of your time?” A reporter from ESPN crowded my space as I tried to get to my locker.
“Sure.” While I was used to being bombarded by questions, my gut had been churning the moment I’d seen the look in Lily’s eyes after my announcement.
She fucking hated me.
Her eyes didn’t hold just anger. They were a reflection of the venom she’d felt prior to our incredible night of passion. I doubted that would happen again. I’d be lucky if the girl didn’t burn me alive in my own bed.
There was no doubt she was capable of doing something so vindictive. How could I blame her?
“What was it like to have your fiancée in the stands?” the reporter asked.
“Amazing. Just for her to be able to see me bring home the win. But I couldn’t have done it without my team.”
“You kept Lily a secret. Was she your rabbit’s foot?”
The questions were all centered around my relationship and not the game.
They also didn’t seem to think anything of the fight.
But I knew there’d be pictures in vivid color of the incident.
My teammates were all but being ignored.
Reporters were falling over themselves, pushing and shoving to get closer.
Even the security guards were having a tough time keeping any sense of order.
I’d created a grade-A nightmare.
“There was no luck to the game. All skill,” I muttered and managed to jerk open the steel locker door.
“Yes, but you played entirely differently tonight. You were definitely on top of your game. The relationship is good for you.” This came from another reporter who’d managed to weasel his way to within inches of me.
I’d had enough, the anger brewing to the point my chained wolf was highly irritated. That didn’t bode well for ridding myself of the ridiculous memes and aggravating assault on my personal space.
Lily had been right. I was a hardheaded ass or as my coach had once told me, a bull in a china shop on steroids.
“I think we should stick to aspects of the game,” Coach Cavanaugh threw out in an attempt to deflect the focus.
His booming voice managed to draw some attention until finally I had some space to breathe.
“You’re an asshole,” Pete hissed at me as he backed against the lockers.
“Why is that?”
“It’s all about you. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. The game. This bullshit with Rocco. Now a woman.” He smashed his fist against the steel, rattling the entire wall full of lockers. I doubted anyone heard from the chaos that had erupted.
I was about to respond, and not in the best way, when another reporter shouted, the announcement creating another cringeworthy moment.
“There she is! Lily Weathers. How does it feel to be getting married to the hottest hockey player in the last twenty-five years?”
Oh, great. This was getting out of hand.
Instantly, Lily was surrounded and I was provided with breathing space. I glanced toward the coach and he simply shook his head. I’d hear more about my faux pas later. Of that I had no doubts.
Thank God I was taller than most people in the room. But in being able to see her crushed by the chaotic crowd, the fury of the possessive beast inside me increased to a dangerous level.
She appeared so tiny standing in my jersey.
She’d rolled up the sleeves, but the material still dwarfed her small frame.
The reporters ate it up, already taking dozens of photographs.
God, she looked so beautiful tonight, her long hair sweeping across her shoulders in dancing curls.
Although her hair was damp. Who the hell had poured some shit on her?
That pissed me off enough my chest was rising and falling rapidly.
Another sign controlling my wolf was getting dicey.
Her lips were pursed and all I could think about was how incredible they’d tasted when I’d kissed her.
I dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip and I’d be damned if my cock wasn’t awakened. Like the true beast he was.
The possessiveness I felt for the woman was already taking a toll.
A snarl pushed up from my throat and I yanked people away from her, using enough force a couple were pitched against the bank of lockers. Both the coach and the captain tried to intervene, but it was too late. I’d reached a point where no one would be able to control me.
With my wolf close to the surface, I made it by Lily’s side, immediately wrapping one arm around her. I had no idea how she was going to react. She was far too innocent for the wolves in the room. The pun forced a chuckle.
If only they knew.
While still in a daze, Lily highlighted that she was a true professional.
She placed her palm against my chest, tilting her head in one of those movie star perfect moments.
The photograph would be captured and tossed out on the internet with hundreds of captions, but all would mention the true love seen in her eyes.
I stared into them for several seconds, drowning out the insanity. The golden glow in her irises was a powerful draw.
Lust.
Hate.
Fury.
All three volatile emotions were reflected and it allowed a grin to cross my face.
This was my woman.
My mate.
My fake… fiancée.
“Lily. What do you think of your fiancé’s performance?” A microphone was stuck in her face and I almost punched the jerk. Only the searing touch of her fingers prevented me from further outing myself.
She could end the facade right here and now. After she smiled at the reporter as if the entire scene wasn’t bothering her in the least, once again she locked eyes with mine.
This was nothing more than a ticking timebomb.
I likely screwed the last nail into my coffin the moment I brushed hair from her face, keeping the rough pads of my fingers pressed against her soft cheek.
But I wasn’t known for my patience. “Tell me, sweetheart? What did you think?”
Lily took a purposeful exaggerated sigh, leaning in and rising onto her tiptoes. After pursing her lips, her eyelids fluttered, long lashes skimming across her rosy cheeks.
I’d be damned; the woman was giving an academy award-winning performance.
I’d suffer the consequences later.
“Savage is… amazing. In everything he does.” She was practically cooing her answer.
As if on cue, I lowered my head and allowed our lips to brush. The chatter was quieted until I captured her mouth. There were a few oohs and ahhs even though grumbles came from every corner of the crowded room.
“Fuck this,” Eric hissed under his breath.
“Where’s your ring?” The jerk reporter had a smile on his face as if he’d caught me in a lie. I knew the asshole. He’d printed a shit ton of bad press about the Wild Dogs for two years.
I bristled even more.
When neither one of us answered, his grin turned dark. “I’d be careful, honey. He’s a womanizer. You’re just the flavor of the week. You’ll be gone by Monday morning.”
That was it. I reared back, fisting my hand. Lily caught my arm in midair.
“Don’t worry about this jerk, honey. He doesn’t know how much in love we are. He’s not worth your valuable time.” Her voice held an edge, but her smile was beaming.
The reporter was furious and I wasn’t eager to back down.
But I did it. For her.
I lowered my arm, pulling her even more tightly against me. “You’re right. He’s just a hack.”
The asshole huffed and backed away. I could just imagine the spin he’d put on his next hate piece for whatever rag magazine or newspaper he was with.
Her body stiffened slightly, but not enough for anyone else to notice. She allowed the intimate acts for ten seconds, pulling away and adding emphasis to the passionate moment by rubbing her thumb across my lips.
“Yet as incredible as Savage is, don’t forget he has the most fabulous teammates. Go Wild Dogs!” Her exclaim was met with cheers and applause.
While I’d looked like a complete ass, my fake fiancée had ceremoniously saved the day.
Oh, hell, yes, I’d suffer the consequences for my ridiculous behavior.
But it was so worth it.