“I don’t know. I doubt it. She’s a tough lady.”
“Well, I’ll give you an A for effort, but shit, man. You can have any one of those women up there. Look at ‘em. A menu board of shape, size, hair color, eye color. I’ll take the blondes. I mean if you don’t want ‘em.”
“I want something special in a relationship. A woman who sees me for me.”
He smacked my arm, laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Well, since you’re the Beast, that ain’t gonna happen. Get used to it. Now, ya gotta concentrate on the game today, buddy. This is make or break it time.”
Truer words were never said and here I was working on a couple of hours of sleep. But it was all worth it. Maybe. Oh, hell, as long as I was able to convince her to see me again.
That would be nothing short of a miracle.
Our approach was finally noticed, screaming girls running toward me. I hadn’t paid any attention to the number of news vans waiting in the parking lot. The game was big news for several reasons, not only that a shifter had made the team. This was almost like a Hail Mary, which meant the pressure was on.
Chaos ensued, women and a few men surrounding us, questions and comments coming fast and furious. It didn’t matter that we were clustered around the employee and back entrance every hockey player used. They were blocking it off as if it was their God-given right.
“Beast. Can I have your baby?”
“Ooh-la-la. Look how handsome you are. Much better than your pictures.”
“Mr. Masters, I’d love to see your cock. Pretty please?”
“Can you show us your wolfie side? I do love furry creatures.”
I managed to pull off a huge grin as notebooks and pens were shoved into my hands, the girls all clamoring for an autograph.
At first, Tony was laughing, but I could tell the longer the organized melee went on, the worse his mood became. Not that I blamed him. I was getting all the attention when he’d been a glorified star until I came along.
“Beast. Can you sign my tits?” The girl was wearing a barely there, low-cut top and as soon as the question popped from her cherry-stained lips, Tony cursed under his breath.
This was a new one. I’d never been asked to sign a pair of boobs before. Before I knew it, a passion purple Sharpie was shoved into my hand and she was jutting her chest out.
“Sure. Who should I make it out to?”
“Oh, to Barbie from her werewolf.”
At least Tony had a good laugh at my expense. I didn’t correct her as I provided the wording she wanted. As soon as I popped the top on the pen, every girl squealed.
Given the number of photographs being taken on every phone, I could only imagine the comments long before the game even started.
And the dressing down Ms. Adams would provide.
“Mr. Masters,” a reporter asked while sticking his damn microphone in my face. “Are you aware there is still a huge contingency of people who believe shifters shouldn’t be allowed in sports?”
“So I’ve heard,” I said, continuing to sign autographs.
“What do you have to say to them?”
I lifted my head, facing the cameras. “That they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Special skills aren’t needed when top notch training and sheer, raw talent is involved.” I flashed a pearly white grin and could hear Ansley groaning all the way from wherever she was watching.
The crowd continued to shift even as we tried to politely push our way toward the door. Now, only a few yards away, a tightness in my chest was followed by a blur off to the side. Whoa. Hold on. Was that Christine heading to the employee entrance?
Something possessive, toxic, and riddled with hunger came over me.
A jolt of lightning tore through every limb.
I was hot, completely aroused, and my beast was once again dangerously close to the surface.
While reporters continued to clamor on, asking questions and girls were trying to push themselves to the front of the line, I was fighting my way to get to her.
