ASH
“They’replayingbetterthanlast week,” Liam says, reaching for the bowl of popcorn. His arm brushes mine, and I have to suppress a shiver.
Sitting here next to Liam, in what could be the perfect nest, and trying to follow a hockey game is nearly impossible.
The commentator’s voice rises with excitement as the Scorpions’ red and gray uniforms blur across the screen. My fingers twist in the edge of the blanket draped across my lap, the soft material suddenly too warm against my skin. Liam shifts beside me, his thigh hot next to mine. His scent tickles my nose. It reminds me of a fancy cocktail, a little sweet but strong. I can pick up both Beckett and Pierce here too.
On screen, a Scorpion player gets checked hard into the boards, and Liam leans forward, momentarily distracted by the play. I use the moment to shift position. I know my panties are damp. Myskin feels too tight, my nerve endings firing signals I can’t control. I’m hyperaware of his every movement, the way he reaches for his water, how his shoulders rise with each breath, the light tap of his fingers on his knee when the game gets tense.
“You want something else to drink?” Liam asks, turning to me.
“I’m good.” I pull the blanket higher, using it as a shield. But the movement only sends another waft of his scent toward me, and my next breath comes in shallower than I intend.
A fight breaks out, making me jump. You can actually hear the punches land and bodies crashing into the boards.
“Ooft.” Liam cringes.
“This is kind of… violent.”
He laughs. It’s a delightful sound.
“Yeah, that’s hockey.”
“Aren’t you ever, you know, afraid for Beckett?”
He takes a long sip of his drink. “Every damn second.” His tone is neutral, but I know he’s hiding his real emotions from me.
He lets out another groan as bodies crash into the glass.
“You know, it’s a fucked up head space,” he says, eyes on the game. “Beckett is a highly-trained athlete. It’s his job to stop the puck. He’s played with broken fingers, a cracked collarbone, concussions. He got high-sticked in the face and lost a tooth.” Liam turns slightly to me and taps his teeth. “And it’s desperately primal. He’s an alpha. The team is his pack in a way. His job is to protect them at all costs. So, it taps into all that feral alpha bullshit, making it undeniably hot.”
I look back at the TV. Maybe if I understood the rules, or if Beckett was actually playing, I’d see something more than blurred bodies crashing into each other.
“And he could have a life-altering injury at any time.” Liam turns somber.
“You really love him.”
“Yeah.” Liam’s eyes are glued to the screen. “Do you?” His voice is so soft, I’m not sure he knows he said that out loud.
His leg stretches out, and suddenly his ankle crosses mine. The contact, even through two layers of denim, sends a jolt straight up my spine. I don’t pull away. I should, but I don’t.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, not sounding sorry at all.
Biting my lip, I take a chance and cross my leg over his. He stills, glass halfway to his lips, but he doesn’t push me off or run screaming from the room.
Papa’s voice echoes in my head. His warnings, his threats, his plans for my upcoming heat. How he’s already arranged everything, chosen who I’ll spend it with. My skin crawls at the thought.
Then I think of Tia and Estelle. “My body, my choice.” This is all natural and normal for omegas, right? I knowI’mnot natural or normal, but I could pretend for just one night, right?
This rush ofneedfor Liam is confusing. More than his “Do you?” comment. And Pierce. I’m supposed to be getting close to them. To do what exactly? Ruin their lives? How does that make sense now that I—
Do I love Beckett? Is this all stupid omega bullshit because Pierce smells so good?
I blink rapidly at the screen.
The crowd roars as the Scorpions score. Liam lets out a whoop, his whole body straightening with excitement. The sudden movement breaks my spiral of thoughts.
“Finally!” he exclaims.
