Coach Applegate seems pleased with my performance as he taps my helmet, which I remove as we skate off the ice and head to the locker rooms.
“You did good out there. Keep up the intensity and maybe you’ll get some playtime during the Islanders game.” My heart beats rapidly as he says it, and I take a deep inhale.
“Thanks, Coach.” He nods his head and walks away. The concept of even getting to play in an NHL game always seemed so far-fetched. Even after all the lengths I’ve gone to get to where I am, I still didn’t believe it would ever happen.
I make sure to hang back on the ice long enough for mostly everyone to finish their shower before heading into the locker room. The only people left are Mikael Martel and Alexi Bandnin, probably the two scariest fuckers on the team. I swallow thickly as I undress and head into the shower. Thankfully, they’re empty except for me. I bring my own wash, deodorant, and scent blockers with me so I can put them on immediately after my shower.
The other guys don’t bother me, and I shower quickly using all my own products. Fuck, I feel tired, but there’s no time for that shit. Not when I’ve finally made it to the big leagues. I need to suck up any ounce of pain, discomfort, or internal struggles. I refuse to be what biology made me. I’m completely washed and have all my deodorizers on as I step out of the locker room. Bandnin and Martel are still talking as I head to my locker to get dressed.
“You did good, new guy,” Martel says.
“Owen,” I reply. “Or Connery.”
“Confident that we need to remember your name?” Martel says, and Bandnin elbows him in the chest. “What? It’s called hazing. You literally took him out during the scrimmage.”
“And he took it well,” Alexi says, and I swallow. I turn to my locker that doesn’t have a name plate yet, dropping the towel and getting dressed.
“See you tomorrow,” I hear Martel say as he leaves the locker room, and I’m left alone with Alexi. I don’t know why I feel on high alert. My sweatpants are on and I’m throwing the henley over my head when he leans against the locker next to me.
“You’re a Beta?” he says with his head tilted to the side.
“Yeah,” I reply, grabbing a ball cap and throwing it over my semi-wet hair.
“Interesting.”
“Plenty of Betas play professional sports.”
“Of course,” he says, nodding his head. He leans forward, and I swear to fuck he’s attempting to scent me.
“The fuck are you doing?” I say to him, grabbing my shit off the floor and tossing it over my shoulder.
“Nothing,so´lnyshka.”
“Alright then, bye.” My tone is shitty, but I don’t care. If I let these guys think I have something to hide or that I can’t take the heat, it will all go to shit.
He waves his hand at me as I leave, I feel off-center from that weird as fuck encounter. I jump into my car and head to the Airbnb I booked for the month. My contract is very loose. There’s basically no guarantee that the Foxes won’t up and cut me tomorrow, so I wanted something flexible. So for the next month, this is what I call home.
It’s a small basement apartment. The woman upstairs is elderly, and her daughter helped set this up so she has additional income. It’s small and cozy in its own way. I feel exhausted, and my shoulder hurts slightly from that hit from Alexi. But there’s no way that I’m going to let this slow me down.
I take a second shower when I get home, removing all the deodorizers and letting my own scent flourish. It’s already subdued because of the amount of medication I’m taking, but sometimes it’s nice to just be myself. Even if I might hate this part of me with every fiber of my being. It’s a part of who I am, and I know that if I don’t give into some of its facets, it will haunt me.
The bed in the basement apartment is comfortable as I lie down. I swear I sleep like the dead and don’t wake up until my alarm goes off.
* * *
Practice isn’t until ten today, so I take the opportunity to explore some of the town. The area I’m renting from is very walkable, and I find myself wandering down the street until I find a small café. The door chimes with my arrival, and I’m assaulted with the scent of fresh coffee beans and baked goods.
I wait in line and look over the menu while I wait. Suddenly, a tall woman runs into me, some of her coffee hitting my forearm.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” she says. Quickly she puts down her drink and her purse. She’s wearing light blue scrubs, and her dark hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head. A fistful of napkins is in her hands as she cleans off my forearm before looking at me. “Are you okay? It didn’t burn you?”
I shake my head and smile at her. She’s clearly an Alpha, smelling like oranges and cinnamon; it’s an extremely pleasant scent. Possibly on the verge of too appealing, but I shove it down. I’m extremely grateful for all the scent blockers that I’m on for my own scent, and it helps with my ability to scent others.
“I’m fine, seriously.”
“I’m so sorry. I was looking at my phone and wasn’t paying attention. Let me get your coffee.”
“I’m fine, really.”
