“Babe, drink this. You’re sweating.” Bella hands me a giant glass of water with no ice. Of course I’m sweating. This is so fucking stressful. I’m not even on the ice and I feel like it’s all happening to me. I feel a stab of guilt. Alexei let me bring Bella, Estelle and Tia, but I’ve paid no attention to them.
Beckett has been tense, but Liam and Pierce? Bonkers. They have pretty much dropped everything and have been wound so tight they might explode.
“There,” Liam points to a player jumping over the boards. He pivots, and I see “33” on his jersey. I focus on Beckett as he skates into position. He looks different on the ice. Nothing like the man who curls around me at night, nose buried in my hair and tells me how beautiful I am.
“Beckett is playing like man possessed,” Alexei comments, coming to stand beside us. “Best game of the season. Must be following playoff tradition, yes?”
“What tradition?” I ask, sipping my water when Bella nudges me.
“No shaving, no sex during playoffs. Conserve energy. Channel aggression.” He taps his temple. “Mental focus.”
My eyes widen as I turn to Pierce, keeping my voice low but urgent. “Pierce, we’ve been having a lot of sex. A lot. Is he going to lose because of me?”
Pierce snorts and rolls his eyes. “Ignore him. That’s bullshit sports superstition.”
“The socks?” I remind him that I got yelled at for almost washing Beckett’s lucky socks.
I can literally see his brain doing backflips to justify this.
“Beckett’s playing great because he’s happy.” He gives me a significant look. “Because of you.”
“Hockey players and their rituals,” Sandra chimes in, sliding up beside her alpha. “Alexei wouldn’t knot me during our first championship run. Thank god I didn’t go into heat. He would only allow his practice gear to be hand washed. I insisted on hiring a maid.”
“And we won,” Alexei says proudly.
“And our bedroom smelled like a locker room,” Sandra counters.
The penalty ends, and the pace of the game picks up. I’m trying to focus, really trying. The room suddenly seems too warm. The collar of my sweater itchy against my neck. I shift my weight, tugging at the fabric.
“Watch this,” Pierce says, tapping the glass. “Beckett’s going to intercept—there!”
Beckett swoops in, stealing the puck and charging down the ice. The crowd noise swells, and I feel it vibrate through my chest. I press closer to the glass, drawn to its cool surface. My skin feels tight, sensitive.
He passes it with a flick of his wrist and then gets slammed into the glass. I yelp. I may never get used to seeing him get smashed like that.
Not five seconds later, Beckett body-checks a Panther player. They tussle, Beckett elbows him in the gut.
Something, somewhere deep inside my body, snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight. Everything about what I’m seeing changes. It’s not blurry movements and stupid rules. It’s huge, buff, alphas, all sweaty and smelling good, moving their bodies. With big hands, big shoulder, big cocks.
“Oh.”
“What?” Liam side-eyes me with a little concern.
“You’re right. It’s hot when he’s the smasher, not the smashee.”
Liam chuckles and turns back to the game.
I catch Sandra and Bella exchanging a look. Sandra slides closer, offering me an icy bottle of water I didn’t ask for. “Drink,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with assessment. I take it without thinking, the plastic cool against my fingers that suddenly feel too hot.
“You’re flushed,” Bella notes, stepping closer. Her hand brushes my arm. “Let’s get this sweater off you.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, but even to my own ears, my voice sounds tight, strained. I shrug away from her touch, which feels like sandpaper against my oversensitive skin.
“One goal. Youwillgivemeone goal!” Alexei demands, like the players are ready to obey him.
I press the cold water bottle against my forehead, against the back of my neck. It helps for a moment, then doesn’t. Everything feels wrong, like my skin is shrinking around my body. I take a quick sip of water, but my throat feels too tight to swallow properly.
“Come on, Beckett,” Pierce mutters beside me. I look away from him as his scent swallows me. It’s so thick, I can basically feel it on my skin, like hundreds of fingers raising goosebumps where his scent touches me.
