He scratches the back of his head in embarrassment, an oddly attractive blush creeping up his neck. “About that,” he begins, visibly searching for the right words in his head. “Okay, first, I wasn’t naked. I kept the important stuff covered.” He emphasizes his point by waving his hand towards his crotch,dragging my gaze to the area before I have the mental awareness to snap my head back up to his eyes. “And I was really hot and needed to cool down. I’m from . . . way up north and it’s been a bit of an adjustment for me here.”
There seems to be a lot missing from his explanation, but I didn’t sense any dishonesty. His voice remained clear, he maintained eye contact, and his body language remained open. My mom was a psychologist, and while I hated her profession because it always meant more to her than I did, there were still things that you couldn’t help but learn about human nature.
“How do I know you’re not some kind of crazy person?” I stop with my hands on my hips after realizing I’d been slowly skating closer to him, unable to avoid the strange internal need to be near him.
His eyes wander to the ceiling, considering my words, and lifting a single blond eyebrow. “Well, I guess you don’t. But would there really be anything that I could tell you right now that would change your mind?”
He definitely has a point.
He nods and walks towards the large doors at the end of the rink where I notice his pile of clothes lying. For some reason, the sight of him walking away from me has my heart trying to leap out of my chest in order to remain with him.
He begins to dress in front of me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I struggle to maintain eye contact and not let my gaze wander again when he suggests, “How about you let me give you my number then? We can talk, and once you decide I’m not too far off the reservation, then you can let me take you to dinner.”
He says everything so matter-of-factly, like it’s inevitable. I’d usually be put off by the amount of confidence he said that with,but it seems to fit him. I don’t know why I think I know that. There’s something about him I can’t shake.
I skate half the distance toward where he’s walking back onto the ice, still barefoot. He’s now dressed in a pair of deliciously low-hung black shorts, and an Arizona Rays T-shirt as he holds his hand out for my phone.
Throwing caution to the wind, I allow him to take it, feeling a strange vulnerability waiting as he taps on my screen. A minute later he stops tapping on my phone and pulls his out of his pocket which had just gone off. “Texted myself so I could save your number.” He smiles and the brilliance of it threatens to once again take my breath.
He hands my phone back. I accept it numbly as I watch him walk back to where his slides lay, slipping them on and walking toward the door. “I’ll text you, Popsicle,” he says, tossing it over his shoulder, acting again like this is the most natural thing.
Popsicle?I laugh to myself, shaking my head.
As the door swings shut, I look down at my phone in my hand to notice he didn’t put his name in my phone. All he put was “My Man” where his name should be.
I shake my head again and gaze around the giant rink that’s never felt as empty as it does since the moment he left. I stand there dumbfounded and unsure of what to do with myself.
Somehow, I know my whole life just changed in those moments with him . . . and I don’t know what to think about that.
5
Kodi
Holy.
Shit!
I just found my MATE.
I deserve a fucking...what’s one of those acting awards called?Oh yeah, an Oscar, for the way I was able to hold it together back there. I made it out of there without showing how I felt, but now my forearm is braced on the hood of my truck as I take heaving gulps of oxygen into my body to get over the terrible need to shift.
My bear is riding me hard to claim my mate right this second and doesn’t understand why I would walk away from her like that.
When I finally get my bear under control, I lean the rest of my body against my truck, staring at the sky wondering what to do next, how to handle this. She’s a human, which only slightly complicates things.
The very large majority of humans have no idea that shifters, and the things that go bump in the night, exist. There are, however, the few that do. They either end up with a paranormal mate, have close friends or family that are shifters, or are mated to one. Luckily, the stories of humans unable to accept the bond due to their fear or disbelief are rare. I’ve never heard of it happening to anyone I know, or know of, thankfully.
The thought still sends an icy chill through my blood, and not the kind of icy that I like. This kind of icy makes me feel like I could throw up just thinking of the possibility that she could reject me.
Climbing into the driver seat, I can’t shake the sight of her from my mind. The first thing I saw when I woke up were her jade-green eyes staring daggers at me. Goddess, she must have thought I was crazy. Her bright auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail hanging around her neck from the top of her head. I had had an irrational urge to count the freckles on her face.
The smooth agility that she moved with on the ice was mesmerizing. I just kept chanting to myself that I couldn’t believe she was mine.
Well not mine yet, but made for me.
Closing the door and starting the truck, I try to focus on the present, but it is no use. I am obsessed. I want to know everything about her and I can’t wait another second to start.
I fully intend to put my phone down and drive home, but when I see those three little dots pop up immediately, they have me frozen in place while the air conditioner blasts through the cab.
