Page 9 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

Instead, he was going to have to socialise. Be part of the team. He couldn’t risk not meshing with the others and being left out because of that.

“Sure.”

Sammy grinned, delicate features lighting up.

God, the Omega was unfairly pretty.

Life was awful. Chase just wanted to go to sleep.

***

Sammy showed up all dolled up in a soft-looking, oversized cream sweater and one of those Omega necklaces that were so on trend lately. A thin, gold chain wrapped around the base of his neck, an accompanying one tight right under the chin so that it framed his scent glands, enunciating them.

Never in a million years would Chase have thought to wear anything like that. He literally didn’t know how Sammy was so at ease with his designation. They were both hockey players—Sammy had to have had similar experiences in locker rooms, hearing Alphas talk about Omegas like they were wet holes to stick their knots in.

Maybe things were different in Switzerland, where Sammy was from. Maybe that country was a fucking utopia of hockey-playing Omegas flaunting their scent like it was nothing.

“Oh my God,” Sammy said as he flopped onto the chair opposite Chase. “Noah has gotten into this new shooter game and is playing it with his brother nonstop. I just don’t understand why there’s so much shouting involved.”

“I don’t get the obsession with those games. They’re so boring,” Chase agreed. He’d tried playing them a few times with past teammates, but everybody got so worked up over literally nothing.

Sammy grinned. “You get me. We should form a club. You, me, and Emilio.”

Chase guessed Sammy was referring to Emilio Torres from the Miami Manatees, who had apparently bonded with Noah’s brother, Beau, over the summer. The media had made an obnoxiously big deal about it, seeing as Beau had been traded to the Manatees just a year prior…from their rival team. Which meant they really couldn’t have been dating more than a year—less, realistically.

“Yeah, heard about that. Kind of a quick mating,” Chase pointed out.

Sammy shrugged. “They’re in love. Like…proper, ‘this is the love of my life’ love.” His voice had gotten a little floaty, a little distant, and Chase felt a pang, too.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine someone loving him enough to want that with him, let alone within a few months of meeting him.

Chase seriously doubted he’d ever get there. It wasn’t something he’d ever admit out loud, but he knew, in a shadowed and cobwebbed part of him, that there was something wrong with him. Something unappealing. It wasn’t just his lack of scent. There had to be a reason his mom treated him as if he were a spare item she couldn’t wait to get rid of. Some faulty machine she kept trying to fix but would only disappoint her.

“That’s nice,” Chase mumbled, trying not to sound too stroppy about it. “You and Emilio are from the same city or something, right?” He heard plenty about it from the commentators every time the Spirits played the Manatees.

Sammy grinned, voice light and frothy. “Yeah. We spent the summer together, actually. Beau was there for a big chunk of it, and then Noah joined us. Those two are ridiculously competitive. You should have seen them wakeboarding…it was like they thought they were in the Olympics.”

“So it was kind of like a double date,” Chase teased.

Sammy rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Mmhm.” He’d reserve his teasing for future occasions.

Their conversation devolved into gossip—who was single on the team, who wasn’t, who was a bit of a slut. “What about you?” Sammy poked. “Are we gonna see how popular you are with the Alphas when we go out after a win?”

“Oh, please. Look who’s talking. Pretty boy over here is asking me how popular I am.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Whatever. Let’s see if I make the team first.”

“You’re definitely making the team,” Sammy said with such confidence it put Chase on edge.

“Not according to Mazdaki. He’d probably have sent me down by now.”

The skin between Sammy’s eyebrows creased, the edges of his mouth tilting south. “Don’t listen to him. I think he’s just frustrated…kind of seems this is his last year in the show, you know? I wouldn’t take it personal. The coaches love you—that’s what matters.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Chase muttered.