“Here, give me your phone.” His head snaps up, surprise written all over his face. “I’m going to put my number in. And for your part, you’re going to keep this professional. You will not text me about anything that isn’t hockey-related. Okay?”
“Okay,” Vonn promises, pulling his phone from his back pocket and passing it to me. The metal is warm from his skin, and I nearly purr, wanting to rub it against my cheek. The urge to scent mark is nearly uncontrollable, and I bite my cheek. The pain helps break the instinct, thankfully.Scent marking a phone. Now that would be embarrassing.“Can I take you both out to lunch? My treat, I would love to get to know you better.”
The offer is too damn tempting
“No, let’s see how mentoring goes right now. It’s important we not get too entangled. For Asher’s sake.” After quickly typing my number in as ‘Asher’s Mom’, I pass the phone back, careful not to let our hands touch.
His jaw locks, and I can see he wants to argue. To fight me on this, but to his credit, Vonn nods jerkily then steps away.
“Okay. I respect that,” he agrees, though the pitch of his voice deepens. “Can you text me when you’re home safe? Otherwise, I’ll worry until I see you again.”
The sweetness of his request makes me hiss out a breath, my perfume bursting around us. He lets out a strangled moan,stepping forward. Instantly, I jump back and grab the door handle, yanking it open with a loud squeak.
“I will,” I whisper, retreating quickly into the car and closing it with a gentle click.
For a moment, his hand presses against my window, so big and powerful. I can’t help but push my much smaller one against the glass, wishing for his touch. It’s been so long since anyone’s embraced me outside of a heat other than Asher and Cassia.
Asher shuts the back door, and I jump, immediately moving my hand away to start the engine.
“Vonn Keene is going to take over mentoring you,” I tell him, putting the car in reverse.
The Alpha in question stares forlornly as we back out and drive from the arena. As we go, I can’t help but glance in my rearview mirror, surprised to find him still standing in the same spot, staring as we disappear.
He may be my scent-match, but that doesn’t mean I have to claim him.
Right?
Chapter Thirteen
Julius
Mine.
That omega and her son are mine. But every single fucker seems hell bent on keeping me away from them.
Anger rages inside me, leaving me brimming with the need to knock some skulls in. I can’t help how I slam my pads around in the locker room, or that my helmet seems to get kicked across the floor.
“Jeez, Captain. Is everything okay?” Chase asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. With the aggression rolling off me, most of my teammates won’t even consider getting close. And that’s just the way I like it.
“Fucking peachy,” I snap, going back to all my banging and clanging. “Mind your own fucking business and send me my packmate when you see him.” Like the smart Alpha he is, Chase grabs his shit and hustles away, heading straight for his friends. Good, I want to be alone.
A loud whistle cracks through the locker room, and we all turn as Coach Wallace walks in for his pregame speech.
“All right, Scorpions, we’ve seen a lot of improvement over the last few weeks. The league is noticing, so let’s keep that shit up and keep ourselves together. This is our last one on the road for a while, so let’s knock it out and get back home.”
Short and to the point, just like the man, he stomps into his makeshift office. The chatter and clatter of the locker room goes back to its usual dull roar volume.
As captain, I’ll play a good portion of the game tonight, and I’m glad because the electricity zipping through me needs a productive outlet.
“You were asking for me?” Vonn appears by my side, already fully dressed, even though he’ll be sitting on the bench yet again. I really wish the team would give him a shot. He’s got serious talent, just lacks confidence, which he can only gain by playing.
“Yeah, I wanted to know if the omega has sent you any information about Asher’s sizes yet?” I’ve been hounding Vonn for a week since our run-in at the Junior Scorpions program. I know he got our scent-match’s number, but he hasn’t been willing to share it with me. We’ve almost come to blows about it several times. Coach Ray wouldn’t give me their address or any information about them either. Absolute fuckers.
Our bratty little omega is already causing drama. Seriously, the whole thing is too damn dramatic. Insisting I stop mentoring Asher, refusing to speak to me. When she finally gives in, and shewillgive in, her ass is going to be so tender she won’t be able to sit for a week. The thought of my handprint on her rounded cheeks finally brings a little levity to my mood.
Her raspberry and poppy scent still lingers in my nose, making it hard to think about anything other than rectifying the mistakes I’ve made. First, getting her fired, then insulting her parenting. Though in my defense, her kid’s got crap equipment. She should do better. If she would just let me,Iwould dobetter for her. But now everyone’s telling me to back off and be professional.
What the hell is ‘professional’ when it comes to scent-matches?
