“Need a box?” Diep says, and I nod my head. She gets a to-go container for me and hands it to me. “Doctor Blake usually comes Tuesdays and Thursdays. She likes a schedule.”
“I—”
“See you Tuesday,” she says before walking away. I take my pho in hand and walk back to my basement apartment.
I’m not sure why I keep finding myself wanting to be in Piper’s orbit. She’s easy to talk to, and she’s made it clear she isn’t looking for anything right now. Does that make it easier for me to find myself in the company of an Alpha? I try not to hurt my head as I wrack my brain around why I specifically waited there today in hopes of running into her.
She invited me to meet her friends, and thinking about that makes me feel eager. Could this really be possible? Living out my NHL career and finally staying in one place long enough to make actual friends?
So what if my new friend is extraordinarily pretty, I can control myself. My medication helps with that too, thankfully. Or else I would probably become a chronic masturbator otherwise. Between the hot doctor who invites me to Christmas markets and parties, there’s an even bigger Alpha who seems to have found his way under my skin in a way I don’t quite know how to handle.
All I know is that I’m going to nurture this friendship with Piper. I’ll eventually tell her I play hockey. I have to remind myself that right now she likes Owen, the supposed Beta with a mysterious job. There's no designations or preconceived notions in the way. We’re just friends because we like each other’s company. I can’t help but wonder how she would feel knowing the real me, and if she would no longer be interested.
CHAPTER9
Being on edge would be an understatement. A man can only jerk off so many times a day, and well, it’s getting out of hand, or at least I wish I was getting off not by my hand.
I haven’t been back to Piper’s gym because I’m giving her space. I’m also hoping that by the time I do see her, she’ll be missing me and my touch so much she’ll let me touch her cunt again. I’ll do whatever it takes for her to realize that she wants me back.
Then there’s the grumpy, hot, little goalie. I like him, I’ve decided. Perhaps more than I should. I like how coy he’s being about his excitement for playing and how subdued he is around the team. I want to see what’s inside of that broody little shell.
I’m not sure when this urge hits me, but I can’t help the overwhelming feeling of wanting Owen and Piper to both be mine. Sure, I’ve thought about pack life before; I’ve even had an Omega that I let get away to pursue hockey. Maybe it’s my age or the lingering knowledge that retirement is happening sooner than later, but I want these two to be my pack.
Would I like an Omega? Sure. Do I need one? No. What I need are people who want to be with me and are eager for the possibility of having a happy life together.
When did I become such a fucking sap?Fuck me.
As soon as we get on the plane, I’m hanging up my suit jacket and unbuttoning the first few buttons on my dress shirt. The flight is short, so I don’t change into something more comfortable. I sit next to Mikael, who looks grumpy as ever.
“What crawled up your ass?” I ask him.
“I just don’t like traveling while Charlotte is pregnant.” I nod my head in understanding.
“She still has some time?”
“Yes, but it’s twins and—” He waves me off. “Anders is home, so I know it’s fine.”
I nod my head and take a few breaths before takeoff. I’ve been flying forever, but without a doubt, there’s still nerves for takeoff and landing.
“We need to make a statement tonight,” Mikael says when we’re at altitude. I know the prick knows I hate it, but he doesn’t tease me, which I’m thankful for.
“What kind of statement?”
“That we’re making playoffs.” I grin at Mikael. Both him and his packmate want the Cup just as badly as I do.
“Then let’s give them something to talk about.” Mikael smiles, and it’s horrifying. I know the Canes are in for a rude awakening tonight.
* * *
The game is getting dirty, and I’m thriving off of it as I have this big fucker pushed against the boards and we’re both going for the puck. Eventually I’m able to use my blade and kick it in the direction I need. I quickly pass behind the net to Eli, and he’s tapping it into their goal.
The boos in the crowd are loud as I smack Eli hard on the ass with the stick.
“Ouch, fucker.”
“Good goal.”
There’s a shove at my shoulder, and I’m spinning on my skates to see Kristiansen behind me. I’ve had far too many run-ins with the Canes’ offensive linemen. Not to mention that Nilsen absolutely loathes him. “Fucker,” he spews.
