Timber’s more on it than the last game, but we all notice his attention is drifting everywhere. He scored one goal in the first away game two days ago, and that was enough to keep the coach happy. But he’s been in a daze for most of the week, and I want to do something about it.
We have this game and then we can go home—and he can go back to ‘Luke’.
We’re both out on the ice, close enough that we can skate together.
Timber is on the face off, I’m hanging on his back left, Thorne has his right, and we’re ready for it.
The whistle blows, and Timber is in there, whacking the puck back to me. I shoot forward, dodging a Virginia Beach Viper to the right, scanning for Thorne, who’s sailing up the outside.
But Timber is there like a bull, ramming his shoulder into a Viper and storming forward to the goal. I don’t need to think. One punt, the puck flies toward him, and he gets it at the perfect angle to shoot it straight into the back of the net.
It’s over in seconds. The music bursts around us, and I fly straight for him, jumping on him, hugging him before he can stop me.
Thorne skates in, clapping Timber on the back as we swerve around the ice.
And I nearly fall over as Timber lifts his head and meets me with a gaze that shakes me to my bones.
His arm comes up, sliding around my back, and he pulls me to his side. He holds me as we glide and the other guys get into position, his hand tight, his glances slight, and it feels like he actually needs me.
“We gotta get in for the face off!” I shout to him over the music, and he gives me a hard nod. The second he lets go, the cold of the rink bites through my suit.
My chest is tight, too shaken to be sure if that really happened.
I’ve been trying to get him to open up to me since I joined the team, and it’s the first time he’s shown me an ounce of softness, apart from the night we kissed. Maybe I can be someone he can rely on instead of annoying the shit out of him to get a reaction.
I groan as we skate back, and I fix a stare at him. He looks strong and in control now he’s had a hug, and I want it to be because he knows I have his back.
***
It’s obvious I’m a needy alpha, but it’s even worse when we’re away from Ollie. I mean, okay, she’s probably in Timber’s house, and that’s fine. She’s texting me way more, so that’salsofine.
She always says she’s busy when I want to call her, though she’s probably guessed what I’m angling for. And I’m not just talking about phone sex.
The other thing is Timber. Even though I keep hanging around him and bugging him about it, he won’t talk to me about Luke, or Ollie, or whoever. He gets pissed every time I casually bring them up.
Now there’s this, where Timber is sitting by himself in the locker room with his lunchbox that’s just as succulent as his chest.
I don’t get how Ollie can keep cooking for him when she’s back in Nashville, but I’m not going to complain when it means the scent of maple syrup swirls up from his lap.
Timber doesn’t stop me as I lean in and pluck up some of those awesome sausage rolls she must make from scratch.
The fact that he lets me sit and press my shoulder against him as I happily munch away means we’ve made a ton of progress. Or he cares less. Either way, I still want to rub myself up against him just like how he held me out on the ice.
“What’s been going on, baby? You’re all over the place,” I say through a mouth of meat and pastry.
He grimaces at me as his gaze stays on my lips, and I lick them for extra effect.
I thought he would explode at me eventually if I called him ‘baby’ enough. It was one of my many plans to annoy him, but he still hasn’t told me to stop.
“You ask me that every day. Do you really think I’m going to answer you now?”
“Well, since you were feeling me up on the ice, I figured I’d shoot my shot.”
He arches a brow, and I grin back, pretending I don’t see the way pain beats from him.
I could unleash my dickhead side and hit on him big time, but the other guys are still milling in and out of the locker room. Some of them clocked us, and they can sense something’s off with Timber as well.
They keep coming up to us, asking him what’s going on while I keep chomping , dragging in as much of her scent and taste as I can.
