Turning to glance over my shoulder, I fiddle with my cuff links. Are they a little fussy? Maybe, but I like the way they look. They are also one of the first things I gifted to myself when I made it onto a team.
My agent has been fighting for me since I pitched myself to her. She says she sees the fire inside of me for a sport she loves, and helped me get onto a team where I feel safe. It took eight years, but I appreciate her so much. None of them are interested in fucking with me for being an omega, and I just made Captain.
If I have to suck it up and attend events like this for Caitlyn Donners, I will. The charity is solid, my views on what it takes to actually make a difference are what gets me into trouble.
“It’s simply the truth,” I explain, shrugging.
The man in front of me is obviously an alpha, and I can feel his confidence from here. It makes me glad that I can’t smell him, not when he looks like a walking sex billboard. His red hair and scruff makes his blue suit appear more comfortable, and I have to admit that it looks good on him.
Swallowing hard, I remind myself that I am not going to entertain any thoughts about this man when I know he’ll be able to scent my arousal if I do.
“Not many people are willing to look too hard at where the money is going,” the alpha says with a shrug. Putting out his hand, he adds, “I’m Skylar Reynolds. My boyfriend is running around here somewhere chatting people up.”
My eyebrow raises at the name. I’ve both heard of him and played against his team once or twice over the years. The Los Angeles Angels are having a decent season, and Skylar has been with them for a couple of years. My coach has been having us learn all that we can about them before we play against them this weekend.
The Angels are fierce, and their goalie is better than ours.
“I’m Koen,” I finally reply, shaking his hand.
Like many hockey players, he has callouses on his hand that makes me think about very wicked things, and I release him as soon as is socially acceptable.
“Is that like Prince or Madonna?” he teases me, his arm hooking through mine as he drags me into a walk.
“What?” I ask, dazed by his touch.
Get it the fuck together, Koen.
“Oh. No, not really. I guess I just stopped giving my last name after a while,” I explain. “People either know who I am or it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s a terrible reason not to give your last name,” Skylar says with a snort. “Let’s see how far we can open people’s wallets, shall we? The people coordinating this do care about how accessible their program is, and they’ll let Mrs. Travers know that. However, it’s nice that you made a point to share that.”
God, I forgot her name almost immediately. Does he know everyone here?
“I feel bad now,” I sigh. “I get a little nervous at these things.”
“Giving back is part of using our power and fame for good,” Skylar says without appearing upset. “You’re kind of far from home, though, aren’t you?”
“So you do know who I am?” I ask, my lips twitching.
I tend not to mix with other teams very much because of my concerns for safety. I play the game, do my job with the press, and then head home. I know who he is because it’s part of knowing your opponents.
“We’re playing your team this weekend,” Skylar says with a chuckle. “I don’t know everyone in the league until it’s necessary, but you’re hard not to recognize.”
“I tend to keep my head down,” I admit. “Unless I’m on the ice, I don’t make it a point to be known.”
“That’s why people pay attention,” Skylar retorts. “You’re careful to stay out of trouble, and you’re scrappy. You shouldn’t be in half the fights that you throw yourself into.”
“Seriously?” I ask, forgetting my nerves as I glare at him. Who the fuck does he think he is? “I’m the captain. I’m going to defend my teammates as I see fit. It’s not exactly as if I’m a hothead.”
“No, but you’re an omega. Of course, you’re a big fucker for an omega, but still. If you were on my team, I’d be pulling you out of the scraps you get into,” Skylar says with a wry grin.
Rolling my shoulders back, I try to pull out of his grasp, but he won’t allow me to. Ugh he’s too fucking close.
“Ah. There’s Rhodes now,” Skylar says. “As usual, he’s entertaining people.”
There’s a large man smiling and talking with a group, his hands moving as he speaks. His dark hair almost appears black and is slicked back perfectly, and when he turns, I see what appears to be a corset.
Wow. He’s unapologetically himself.
