Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
THORNE
Her voice falters as I stand like a fool at the door. I hope like hell she can’t see how red my skin is getting in her presence. My heart has been racing since I made eye contact with her when she found me crouched on the floor of her shop.
I was never into omegas. They were always normal, blending in with the people on the street, the fans in the stadium. I’ve taken pictures with them, talked to them. Not once have I blushed around a fucking omega.
Never had lusting thoughts, alpha instincts that run my mind into overdrive, nothing. But this omega. I’ve never been shy around omegas before.
It’s pissing me off.
“Yours?” I nearly forgot to ask her name in my haste to stop making a fool of myself. All the times I’ve chosen to remain quiet instead of interacting with people are kicking me in the ass now that I… found someone… I actually want to talk to.
“Noa without the h.” She smiles. Her eyes widen a bit as she tilts her head, her ginger hair following her movement and entrancing me again. Dark, soft appearing skin and bright brown eyes, she’s fucking beautiful. I stare at her like I’ve never seen a more beautiful person before in my life.
I have to get out of here, or Marilyn is gonna kick my ass for taking so long.
Marilyn is my hockey team’s PR manager. The Scented Scorpions were close to being disbanded earlier this season. None of us players could get our heads out of our asses enough to get any wins, and the bottom line was getting hit harder than anyone could excuse.
I almost lost my dream to play hockey. All the players did, then Marilyn stepped in.
Despite being an alpha herself, Marilyn understood exactly what this team needed and did it without question. Each of us had to work with her closely at some point, her demand, not ours, and now it was my turn.
She’s been sending me on errands everywhere. It’s really annoying, but she saved our careers, and so I can’t tell the woman no.
I stand by the door of the blanket shop, willing myself to leave, but I can’t. I watch as Noa clasps her hands and rests them over the counter where the cash register is.
She doesn’t say goodbye either. Her round lips smile at me, and my damn heart flutters. It’s like neither of us can end this moment. It’s then that my mind metaphorically dumps cold water on me, as the dangerous thoughts I don’t have control over filter into my brain.
Maybe she’s just being polite. What if she’s not as interested? What if I’m reading this all wrong? My eyes meet her soft brown ones again. She opens her mouth to say something, but she stops herself. She did ask for my name. So she must be interested, right?
Damn, this is hard.
I don’t know what she’s thinking.
I want to ask for her number or a way to contact her, but my nerves won’t let me. I’d probably vomit before the sentence could come out.
How can I play in an arena filled with thousands of people but can’t ask the most beautiful, incredible-smelling woman I’ve ever met for her number? Someone on the opposite side of the door pulls, and I’m falling back. The cool air from outside blasts me, and the noise of people fills my ears.
I catch myself, thank fucking God, but I hear her giggle as I step out the door and dash the fuck out of there. Fuck.
How fucking cool of you, Thorne.
There isn’t much I can do now on the other side of the door. I can’t go back there and embarrass myself even further, plus, now she has a customer there. She’s busy. She doesn’t need an awkward ass-hockey player lurking around.
Heading back to the arena, I dart to Marilyn’s office, needing to get this to her and home so I can wallow in my embarrassment.
Swinging open the door, I drop the box right by the door. I see her at her desk and turn just as fast to leave.
“Ah, ah, wait.” Her voice snaps me to stop. Dammit.
“Aren’t you busy?” I say, trying my best to get out of this damn office. I hardly turn to look at her. Worried she’ll give me something else to do.
“Tell me how it went.” She gestures to the leather chair in front of her desk, and I walk further into her office and sit, knowing there is no way I’m getting out of this one.
“Fine.” I shrug. I’m not sure what she’s looking for or why I feel so protective of the moment I had with her, with Noa.
“Fine? Just fine?” She asks. I nod my head and try to leave again. My hands lifted me from the chair. She points a finger down back towards the chair, and I sit down like I’m attached by a pole to the tip of her finger.
“Tell me, Thorne, do you think we should work with her? Does she seem like good people?”
My heart races again, as if it ever calmed down since I left that little shop. I know Marilyn catches the way my face turns beet red, but I shrug like I don’t care.
I try to keep it cool regardless, as if the woman left my mind as soon as I left her shop, and that is anything but true.
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?” she asks, and that’s when I break.
“Why are you asking me that?” I say way too fucking fast, and that fact alone has her smirking at me.
“Marilyn,” I groan, trying to get away before the teasing starts.
“Go, go hockey boy, I’ll see you later.” She dismisses me, and I get the hell out of dodge before she can interrogate me anymore.
Walking down the hall, I roll my neck, going to find my Pack mate Silas so we can go the hell home as the interaction plays on a loop in my head. I get closer to the locker room door, and I see Deacon and the rookie Malcolm rushing together to get out of here, probably because of their new mate.
Then next comes Chase, who was… also recently mated. And Kane and…
Holy shit.
Did she.. Did she know? About the shop owner?
Was I just set up?