As I watch Scout, Theo Kozlov corners her near the refreshment table. Kozlov's a rookie defenseman with a cocky smile and hair gelled within an inch of its life. He leans in too close, hand gesturing at the room like he's offering her the world on a platter. My whole body tightens.
It's so loud in here. I can't hear what he's saying from across the ballroom, but I can read her body language. The way she takes a half step back, the tightness in her smile that doesn't reach her eyes, the polite shake of her head. Scout is willing and soft, but she doesn't want whatever he's selling.
Kozlov is young, overenthusiastic, and used to women who swoon whenever he swings his attention their way. So even though Scout's eyes dart around, looking for a way to escape, he keeps talking anyway. He gestures at himself, then at her, then at the crowd of photographers setting up near the entrance. My jaw locks when I realize what he's asking.
He wants her on his arm for photos like she's some kind of pricey accessory. Proof he's important enough to have a pretty girl next to him for the cameras. Scout sucks in a breath and looks unhappy. But in the next second, she bobs her head and starts toward the photographers. And because he's a fucking moron, Kozlov signs his own death warrant by touching the small of her back as he urges her onward.
I see her stiffen, her cheeks coloring. Oh, he's a fucking dead man walking.
Before I even decide to move, I'm crossing the ballroom in long strides, shoulders squared. The fire that's always present for me, smoldering, ignites like a wildfire that fills my veins with red-hot fury. Everything in me is coiled tight and ready to snap.
"...just think it would be good for both of us," Theo's saying when I get close enough to hear. All charm and zero awareness. "You'd look great in the photos. I could use someone who knows how to work a room. Win-win, right?"
"I'm not sure you want to pick me. I'm on the team's payroll," she says, her voice hushed. "It might look a little... fake?"
"Nahhh." He drapes his arm around her shoulders, which makes me see red. That arm might be better off dislocated and separated from his corpse.
"Get the fuck away from her," I growl. Lunging, I separate them. I'm not even sorry about using my size to make him take a step back. His eyes widen and he drops his arm, stuttering.
"Hey, man. I didn't see you coming. I—" He licks his lips and looks to her for help. Pathetic. "We were just going to take some photos."
"She's not a prop, Kozlov. Get your own damn dates."
Theo blinks, startled. His cocky smile falters. "Whoa, man, I was just..."
"You were just leaving." My voice drops lower, lethal. "And if I ever hear you talk to her like that again, I'll make sure you spend the rest of the season riding the bench. Or playing in the minors. Your choice."
His face goes red. He mutters something that might be an apology and bolts like his ass is on fire.
Scout's hand lands on my chest before I can chase after him. Warm and small. Her touch steadies me in a way that makes me want to cover it with my own.
I haven't been touched like this in so long. Not with care. Not even to calm me down. Her palm burns through my shirt. Every nerve ending screams for more contact. I want to grab her wrist and hold her there. I’m desperate to pull her closer, but I don't.
She looks up at me, those green eyes searching my face. "Silas. Calm down."
I look down at her. Her eyes are wide, worried but not afraid. She seems concerned for me, not about me. The realization knocks something loose in my chest.
I touch her shoulders, rubbing them slightly. "You all right?"
"Of course." She's still touching me. "He was just being a rookie. I would’ve done it."
"That doesn't make it okay."
Before she can answer, Enzo materializes with two BeastMode reps trailing behind him. Perfect timing, as always. His eyes land on Scout's hand on my chest, and something ugly flashes across his face.
I nod at the reps. Keep my mouth shut. It's easy enough to let Enzo do his job while I silently plan his firing in excruciating detail. My hand comes up to gently brush against Scout's back. It's hard to pretend interest in this fucking conversation when all I want is to drag Scout out of this room and somewhere quieter to resume our conversation.
I'm pretty sure it's going to lead to me kissing her senseless.
One of the suits gestures at Scout with his drink. "And who's this lovely young lady?"
Before I can answer or introduce her properly with the respect she deserves, Enzo laughs. He’s putting on a show.
"Oh, that's Scout. She works as a gopher for the Havoc." He grins like he's sharing an inside joke. "We're here to talk about my man Silas, not to meet all the support staff."
The words land like a punch to the gut. Scout's cheeks turn bright pink but her expression stays neutral. It's clear to me she's been hit like this before and learned to hide the damage.
My fists curl at my sides. Everything in me goes cold and sharp and deadly focused.
