Chapter Two
Axel
Someone plops down beside me on the locker room bench, knocking into my shoulder hard and causing me to drop the book I’d been reading after practice.
“Hey,” I shout as I reach to retrieve it, Julius beating me to it.
“Another romance?” Julius sneers as he closes the book, losing my page and flipping it from cover to cover. “Is this why you’re playing like shit? Too worried about what happens next in your book?”
My eyes close as I clench my fists and inhale deeply through my nose. Julius is trying to get a rise out of me, but I won’t bite, not today. As much as my alpha wants to tear into him, I’m not about to have a dick-measuring contest with our captain.
Fuck that.
It’s the last thing we need as a team. The Scented Scorpions are getting wrecked this season, and the media is absolutely tearing us a new asshole.
You’d think Julius would have realized by now that we need to be working together, not against one another, but clearly the message is yet to sink into his thick skull.
“I didn’t play like shit, and you fucking know it,” I grit out through clenched teeth, turning my head to look at him.
I beat his ass in our drills this morning, cleaner and faster than him by far.
“Give me back my damn book and go find a puck bunny to help you blow off some steam. That’s all you’re interested in, isn’t it? ”
His eyes flash and he’s on his feet in an instant, his hands gripping the front of my jersey and dragging me up with him before slamming my back into the lockers behind us.
“What the fuck did you just say to me, Warner?”
“Maybe if you read a ‘fucking romance book’, you’d see that chasing tail is fine in the short term, but in the long run it’ll leave you cold and empty. It’ll tear your pack apart. What you should really chase is an omega. Someone to glue you back together and soothe the rough edges.”
“What the fuck kind of pussy shit is this?” he growls, his grip tightening. Fucking hell. He’s so easy to rile.
“Get your hands off your teammate, Julius,” a curt but feminine voice demands, an edge of anger clear in her tone. “Now.”
Julius releases me instantly, spinning on his heel and turning toward the locker room doors. I glance over his shoulder to find three women standing there.
Marilyn—our PR Manager and an alpha I wouldn’t want to cross—stands there with her hands on her hips, unable to hide the mixture of anger and disappointment crossing her features.
On her left stands Vae, Malcolm and Deacon’s foster sister and a familiar face in the stadium.
If the guys are here, she probably is, too.
It’s the petite woman on Marilyn’s right who draws my undivided attention. I haven’t seen her around the stadium before, but there’s something oddly familiar about her. Her pastel pink hair is styled in a soft, wavy bob around her face and perfectly offsets her porcelain skin.
She’s watching Marilyn with a slightly amused, somewhat grateful smile on her perfectly plump pink lips. Her tongue darts out, running across her bottom lip to wet it as her gaze travels around the locker room.
It’s mostly empty, with just Julius and me still here.
Most of the guys have left by now, having showered and run off to do whatever comes next in their day.
Some of them have been assigned various PR tasks from Marilyn; others have appointments.
My packmate, Chase, had a dentist checkup scheduled, of all things, and was out of here the second he stepped out of the shower.
I’ll probably find him at home chowing down on some sugary snacks when I get home.
How he gets a clean bill of dental health after every check-up, I’ll never understand.
I had nothing scheduled after practice today, which was why I’d stuck my nose in a book. One of my favorite authors recently released the first in a new duet, and I’ve just been able to get my hands on a copy.
“Get out, Julius,” Marilyn snaps. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got better things to do.”
Julius grumbles as he stomps past Marilyn and out of the locker room.
“Axel, if you’re alright, I have a task for you,” she announces as soon as the door swings shut behind Julius, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
My eyes dart between Marilyn and the pink-haired beauty as I wonder whether the task has something to do with her.
Gods, I hope it does. She’s absolutely stunning, and I’m drawn to her in a way that is completely new and indescribable.
Almost like there’s an invisible string connecting us, and it's just now been pulled taut.
“I’m fine,” I say, bending to pick up my book from where Julius dropped it on the floor and placing it back into my locker. I shrug. “You know what he’s like.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I do.” Her brow creases momentarily. She quickly clears her expression and gestures to the woman beside her. “This is Mandy Paige. She is researching her next romance—a hockey romance, as it were. Mandy, this is Axel Warner. He is one of our forward centers.”
Mandy steps forward, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Axel.”
I should step forward. Should take her hand and say, ‘It’s nice to meet you, too.
’ Be polite and represent my team. Instead, I’m frozen in place.
Did she say Mandy Paige? Mandy freaking Paige?
I must have misheard or something. No way is Mandy Paige standing in my locker room. Gods, I need to pull myself together.
Taking a deep breath, I close the distance between us and take her hand in mine.
Bursts of electricity dance across my skin at the contact, and a wave of possessiveness rolls over me.
That feeling needs to be squashed. I may be an alpha, but I can’t claim this woman just because my instincts are screaming ‘mine’.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mandy,” I say with a grin, shaking off the feeling as my eyes sweep across her face and take in her perfectly symmetrical features.
High cheekbones, luscious full lips and thick lashes.
Her eyes—a delicate shade of blue—widen in surprise as she inhales, her nostrils flaring.
She covers it with a smile so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.
A faint metallic smell tickles my nose as she drops my hand and steps back.
It reminds me of the scent-blocking spray we sometimes use at events.
I lift an eyebrow, wondering why she’d be using scent blockers.
Could she be an omega? Omegas often use scent blockers in public to protect themselves.
And it seems to be a common theme in the PR opportunities Marilyn has been assigning, pairing up teammates with omegas under the guise of positive press.
I’m on to you, Marilyn. And I’m not mad about it.
“You’re planning a hockey romance?” I ask Mandy, genuinely interested in her next project.
She’s one of my favorite authors for a reason, and that’s because she writes sweet, funny, realistic romances that feed your soul and make you feel like there’s someone out there for everyone and the meet-cute is on its way to you. That it’ll happen any second now.
“I am. But I need an education on all things hockey,” she admits. “My knowledge is lacking, and I like to make my work as realistic as possible wherever I can.”
“That’s where you come in,” Marilyn adds. “Mandy will shadow you, and maybe a few other players, and you can teach her the ins and outs. The hope is that the relationship will offer positive press, new audiences and marketing strategies, and Mandy will gain the insight that she needs.”
I nod, “Solid plan.” It’s actually pretty genius, I can immediately see how both parties will benefit. And I’ll get to spend time with Mandy Paige. “I’m in.”
“You didn’t have a choice,” Marilyn says, quirking an eyebrow, and Mandy giggles. The sweet, lilting sound soothes something inside me, and I have to work to smother the purr threatening to rumble in my chest.
Holy shit.
“Doesn’t matter,” I reply with a shrug, my eyes locking with Mandy’s again. I’m in trouble here. “I’m more than happy to show you around and teach you about hockey. Chase will help, too,” I add, nodding at Marilyn and nominating my packmate.
He and Mandy have to meet. I can’t help but wonder what kind of response he’ll have to her and whether it’ll match the possessive, obsessive need building inside of me.
Marilyn smirks, and I know I’m playing right into her manipulative little hands. I couldn't give a shit.
“How about I show you around the stadium, Mandy? Then maybe we can grab some lunch? I’ll answer any burgeoning questions you have about my favorite sport, and you can hopefully answer a few I have about Purrfect Strangers and what an asshole Brad is to Zara?”
“You’ve read it?” she asks, surprise and approval clear in the way she smiles at me.
“I have,” I say, walking towards my locker and throwing open the door to reveal the stack of books inside. “I’ve read all of your books. There’s a high chance that’s why Marilyn here paired you with me.”
“Guilty as charged,” Marilyn admits, throwing her hands up in mock surrender and backing towards the door. “You leave them lying around enough, the entire team likely recognizes her name. Let’s go grab a coffee, Vae, and leave these two to get started.”
And with that, we’re alone.