I still have a chance?
“But I’m still not a shifter.”
She gives me one of her looks that says “no shit, genius” and moves around her desk, batting away the garland the girls hung all over her office, to open her laptop. “No, you’re not. But being mated to one will put you back on the list of optional players. To be drafted into the professional sports leagues you must be a shifter, mated to one, or aware of shifters in another close way.”
It's impossible to slow the thoughts flying through my mind, but one sticks out the largest. “Can I ask you something, Coach?”
Not looking up from her laptop as she types, she says, “I’m all ears.”
“Kodi called me his fated mate.” Coach looks up and nods while I try to gather my thoughts to make sense of what I’m trying to ask. “Is your Goddess, this fate, what brought me here? Brought Kodi here? Like . . . what I’m trying to say is . . . is this all just fate or—”
Coach raises her hand, stopping my rambling thoughts. “Everything is fate. Every moment in everyone’s lives lead them to where they’re meant to be. It’s not thereasonfor why anything does or doesn’t happen to us. You’re damn good at hockey, with or without Kodi. Your parents didn’t suckbecauseof Kodi and your fate. All the moments in your life just led to each other.”
Nodding and trying to take it all in, a new hope blooms within me at knowing maybe my hockey career isn’t over after all.
Once I’m home and on my comfy couch where I can appropriately scold my…
He is so much more than my boyfriend, but saying mate is still kind of weird. I need to work on that.
I mean he’s not wrong.
I know I shouldn’t, but I laugh. The only thing about Kodi that intimidates me is how much I care about him.
Holy shit.
Alright . . . now to ask him the big question.
Between each of our games, practices, and my classes, it’s been impossible for us to spend any quality time together and I still haven’t made it to one of his games. Every chance we get is spent together, even if he just drives me to practice or I bring him lunch.
It sucks to feel like you physically need to be with someone at all times but have to spend so much time apart. He’s insinuated a few times that I could just live with him, but I don’t want him to ask me like that. I want him to be sure he wants me there and is actually asking me to be with him at all times.
Instead of texting me back, he video calls me.
“Oh, hey, stranger.” I smile into the phone.
His eyes are wide and hopeful. “You do remember that I play football, right?”
Snorting a small laugh, “I do. I think we’re way past that, don’t you?”
“I’d hoped so, but I didn’t want to go off assuming things. You know what happens when you assume.”
He’s silly and adorable and I love him.
“So, does that mean you can get us some tickets?” I’m surprised at how excited I am to go watch him play. I’ve found myself growing to enjoy football since I met Kodi, and I’ve been studying the rules so I understand.
“Are you freaking kidding me? I’d buy out the whole stadium if you asked me to. Granted I don’t make that kind of money yet, but give me a bit babe, and we’ll be rich and living easy for hundreds of years.”
I drop my phone and scramble to pick it back up. “What did you just say?”
A number of emotions take turns washing over his face and through our bond. Confusion, realization, embarrassment. “Werewolves are immortal, and other shifters can live to be like a thousand years old.” He offers sheepishly.
“But I’m not a shifter,” is all I can think to say.
He shakes his head. “No, but with my bond, it also links our lifespans, and yours will match mine.”
For a long time, I sit and process everything I've just learned before I give up trying to wrap my head around it. With a nervous laugh I say, “And to think, I learned all of this because one of my teammates saw my mark today.”
19
