2. Do You Smell That?
Chapter Two
Do You Smell That?
MILES
There was something soothing about running through the rain.
Maybe it was because my dad always said it reminded him of Mom.
How she’d open all the windows in the house just so she could smell the rain, not caring if some of the windowsills got wet.
My dad would walk around drying them off with towels—he said he’d much rather see my mom smiling than caring about a little water damage.
And from the pictures he’d show me, I could understand why. My mom’s smile had been electric. It would stretch from ear to ear, dimpling her cheeks and lighting up any room she was in.
On the rare occasions I smiled, I could catch a faint resemblance.
I ran through the woods in my wolf form.
It had only been a day since I moved to town.
There were so many new scents and sights to explore.
I’d already spoken to Emmy, the alpha of the Burlington pack—one of my best friends since childhood—and he should have let the rest of them know about me.
I didn’t want to be a lone wolf stumbling onto another pack’s territory.
Typically, that wasn’t a situation that made for amicable greetings.
I’d be meeting everyone in a couple days anyway. Most of them played on the Burlington Bobcats, which meant they’d be working closely with their new athletic trainer.
Me.
Not that shifters really needed much time with the trainer considering our healing abilities kept most injuries at bay.
But in order to keep up appearances, I still expected them to show up in my office for the occasional stretches and check-ins.
A couple fake injuries also helped sell the whole “there are no supernatural hockey players on the team” thing.
The rain started to ease up. I slowed my pace, sniffing around for any interesting scents I could follow. The gamey smell of deer drifted in from the west, mixed with something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
I took off running, not caring about being silent.
This wasn’t a hunt. I leaped over a fallen log, swerving around a thick copse of bushes which caused three rabbits to bolt from their cover.
A primal instinct made me ditch my original plan and chase after the frightened creatures.
They’d survive today—although they didn’t know it—but at least I’d give them a bit of a workout.
Even in my wolf form, I was a good physical therapist. Always thinking about others and whatnot.
The rabbits zipped through the woods like tiny brown comets.
I locked in on their fluffy white tails as I swerved around trees and dove through bushes.
The thrill of the chase made me run faster, pushing my muscles, making my heart pound in my chest. I rarely got to do this in the Philly neighborhood I moved from—and by rarely, I meant never.
I’d have to drive quite a bit out of town just to find a place I could safely shift.
It would typically take around three weeks before I got the incessant itch to turn into my wolf form.
There were a couple of reasons why I was excited for this move, some more intense than others, but being able to shift whenever I wanted was up there at the top of the list.
The woods began to open as the rabbits led me into a clearing filled with yellow and orange marigolds. A stream snaked around the edge, its clear surface dappled with the falling drops of rain. The fleeing rabbits splashed across the water and disappeared into the brush on the other side.
I let them escape. The chase was over. I padded over to the stream, dipped my head down and lapped at the fresh water.
Damn, even the water tasted better here than in Philly. I should have made this move years—
Another wolf.
I scented it before I heard the rustling from behind me. And it wasn’t a regular wolf, either. It had the unique mix of human and animal to it.
Another shifter.
I stood tall with my ears up and tail raised.
Body language was everything when meeting other wolves, whether they were shifters or not.
I tended to be more dominant so I kept that apparent in how I stood, and instinctively bared my teeth.
I dipped my head slightly while keeping eye contact with the other wolf.
The shifter had a beautiful coat, even drenched with rain. They seemed as surprised as I was before collecting themselves and becoming submissive to my presence. The wolf flattened his ears, closed his eyes and lay down. They appeared seconds away from rolling over and showing their belly.
I decided to shift then. Whoever this was, I wanted to greet them with words, not just body language.
It took me only a handful of seconds before I was back in my human form, standing tall at six feet, wearing the same workout clothes I had on before shifting.
The wolf raised its head and locked those amber-golden eyes on mine.
A shifting haze consumed its form, growing taller as they went from four legs to just two, the mirage-like effect dissipating and leaving behind a man.
An incredibly handsome man. One with a friendly smile that immediately dispelled any tension in the air.
The raindrops fell down his forehead. An interesting white streak crossed from his left eyebrow to the side of his head, slashing through his golden-blond buzz cut.
It was as if someone had taken a paintbrush and decided a streak of white would look good on him.
And they were right.
“Hi,” he said, not moving, gaze pinned on me. There was something else there. Almost like he was analyzing me. Drinking me in.
I took a step forward. Wet leaves and dirt pressed under my sneakers. Something about the space between us felt abnormal. I wanted to shake the man’s hand.
“Hello,” I said, trying not to be awkward. I was typically fine talking to handsome men considering I was often around them at work, helping them rehab and care for their—typically very fit, very six-pack prominent—bodies, but something about this one temporarily stole my breath away.
A moment of rain-soaked silence lapsed before I remembered what words were. “I, um, my name is Miles.”
“Miles, I’m Dylan. Everyone calls me Dyl, though.”
Dylan… why did that name sound so familiar? And, come to think of it, why did Dylan look so familiar?
“I didn’t realize there’d be other shifters running through here,” I said, trying to put together the pieces in my current “fuck, this guy’s hot” state of mind.
He wore a slightly oversized T-shirt but the rain made it cling to his muscular form.
It was late September in Vermont which meant it was still in the low seventies, but judging by the way Dylan’s nipples poked through his shirt, I would have thought it was much colder out here.
I pried my eyes back up to his before he could catch me checking him out.
The subtle and slanted grin he gave me made me wonder if I’d been successful.
“I’m one of the few in our Burlington pack that likes running in the rain.”
“Oh, so you’re in Emmy’s pack—oh shit.”
“What? Do I have something on my face? Is there a bee?” He started fearfully swatting at the air as if he wasn’t a magical being with the ability to heal any kind of bee sting or bug bite in mere seconds.
“Fuck, I hate bees. Where is it?” He started toward me, swatting, flecks of rain flying off him like tiny diamonds glittering in whatever rays of sunlight broke through the curtain of clouds.
I chuckled and then gasped as Dyl tripped over a rock and came flying in my direction.
Instinct had me open my arms and wrap him up in them.
He’d fallen with his back to me so that he was pressing against my body, my arms tight around his stomach and waist. His ass fit perfectly against my crotch.
The realization of how close certain body parts were to others made me tense.
We both stayed still for a moment before he tilted his head and looked up at me.
Being this close to him made me realize this man wasn’t just conventionally attractive.
He was a god damn perfect specimen. Tiny freckles dotted his cheeks—one just above his eyebrow, and a smattering on and around his ear.
There was some stubble on his chin and cheeks that outlined his full, pink, slightly upturned lips which sat underneath a large, rounded nose—which I tended to love in a man, since it always made me wonder if things were proportional.
“There was no bee,” I said, catching myself smiling down at him. “I was just realizing that you’re on the hockey team.”
“I am,” he said with a dash of suspicion in his tone. He didn’t move away though.
Good, because I found that I didn’t want him to.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you. I’m the Bobcats’ new athletic trainer.”
His eyes opened wide before he straightened. I loosened my grip around him and he moved to stand in front of me.
I immediately wanted him back in my arms.
“Oh shit, really?” he asked.
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“No, no. I just had no idea we’d be getting a hot trainer.”
Huh. He thinks I’m hot.
I tried not to let the thought catch me off guard. I always had trouble with my self-esteem, so it was nice to hear that coming from someone who I also thought was incredibly hot.
Someone who was incredibly hot and on the same team I worked for… talk about a conflict of interest.
He put a hand to the back of his neck. His bicep bulged, his sleeveless shirt showing off a dark patch of armpit hair. My instinct was to lean forward and bury my face in it before dragging my lips up his arm, licking him and sucking one of his fingers into my mouth…
Fucking hell, this guy was quickly turning me feral.
I had to cut it off. What if this got back to the coach?
The general manager? I could end up getting fired before my official first day.
I nervously played with the bracelet around my wrist. Twirling it as if the sensation of wet gold against my skin would somehow distract me from the sensation of my briefs getting tighter.
“Well, you are,” I said, slightly colder than I intended. I had to pry myself out of this situation one way or another.
“Are what?”
I blinked a couple times. Felt my cheeks grow pink. “Getting a hot athletic trainer.” It felt weird saying it back to him. That qualifier just didn’t feel right attached to me, but whatever, who was I to argue with such a handsome and soaking wet gentleman?
“Oh, right,” he said, chuckling in a way that nearly made me melt. I could already tell Dylan had one of those laughs that bounced from person to person. He tilted his head up at the cloudy sky. Water dripped from his forehead, down his nose, over his lips.
Fuck. Why did I suddenly want to trace that path with my tongue?
Dangerous. This is very dangerous.
“Want to maybe get out of the rain?” He looked at me with a suggestive gaze that had me second-guessing all the warning signs and caution tape my brain had placed to stop me from doing anything stupid.
I could easily say yes and have him lead me to his place, where we could surely keep dry together.
Well, as dry as two horny men could be.
But…
The alarm bells turned to sirens. I couldn’t lose my job.
I couldn’t start off in this position by compromising my relationship with the team.
I wasn’t as integral as, say, a coach or a GM, but that didn’t matter, I still had a responsibility to the people under my care.
And I’d seen stories of shit happening and then going south.
Of accusations being thrown around, of reputations never recovering.
It could easily be deemed as predatory. And if it got out, it could make any of the other guys on the team extremely uncomfortable.
My job required me to be very up close and personal with these men, moving and manipulating their bodies in ways that might make them feel vulnerable.
Which all meant I had to turn him down.
I shook my head. Rain started to fall in heavier drops. “I’ve got some things I have to do before I start work this week.” A flash of disappointment crossed Dylan’s handsome and genial face. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” he answered. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“I’m sure we will.”
I was about to shift back into my wolf form and take off running, but Dylan’s hand on my elbow stopped me. “Question, random I know, but… do I smell like anything to you?”
I blinked a couple times, unsure of what he was getting at with this. I took a couple of deep sniffs. He smelled like rich leather and wet leaves and honey dripped into a delicious floral tea.
He smelled great. But I wasn’t about to say that all to him now. “Like cologne?” I said, playing a little dumb. “Good cologne. The expensive kind,” I added after seeing the look of slight confusion on his face.
“That’s it? Nothing like, I don’t know, more intense? Like something you’ve never smelled before?”
I chewed my cheek. I liked being right and giving correct answers, so why was I feeling like I’d just failed some kind of surprise exam? “You smell great,” I said. “But I do think I’ve smelled that cologne before. Tom Ford?”
Dylan shook his head. “Nope. Polo, actually.”
“Ah. Gotcha… Why?”
He stayed silent for a moment, his eyes bouncing between mine, down to my lips, back up to my gaze. “No reason,” he said with a shrug. “See you around, Miles. Welcome to Burlington.”
“Thanks, Dylan.”
“Dyl. You can call me Dyl.”
“Dyl it is,” I said.
Moments later, we were both back in our wolf forms, running in opposite directions.