Page 53 of Knot Your Rebel

His voice fades into the background again.

My eyes trail to where Rebel and Nova will be standing ringside

two nights from now. We’ve got two days to tighten up our lines before we meet our rivals, the Cyclones, head on. I eventually get out of my head and focus on the task at hand.

I finally start to listen when he starts discussing the drills for today. He wants Drake and I to focus on practicing with Evanz today before we all come back together for passing and hitting drills. He finishes going over the plan before we all disperse to our own corners.

Every time Evanz says something to me, he has to fucking repeat it. What the hell? It has to be the mating and my minds unease at Rebel still trying to fight it. I need to make her see that it’s her and me. We’re the end game, and I don’t plan on going anywhere.

Eventually, I’m excused from practice when I can’t get my shit together. I’m still in the locker room when the guys finish. I’m freshly showered and getting dressed. They rib me as they come in, and I ignore them.

“Good practice today, men. If you play like that two nights from now, we’ll be sending the Cyclones back with their tails between their legs.” My teammates bang their sticks against the floor in agreement with Coach while hooting and hollering like idiots.

Gus scoffs, flinging his arm over my shoulder and smacking me on the back. “Guess it depends on our goalie and whether he can keep his head in the game.”

“What the fuck, man.” My growl at him is deadly and has him quickly taking back his hand. “You got something to say to me, forward?”

“N-no,” he stutters, and it makes me grin like a feral beast, which has him once again shifting uncomfortably. I shift my eyes away, feeling like he knows his place now.

I forgot that Coach was still in the room during this whole shakedown. When I find his gaze locked on me, I know immediately what’s about to happen. “Tate. My office, now,” he barks before turning on his heel and stalking out of the locker room, leaving the door to slam behind him. I swallow hard, getting up. I hate dealing with him one on one, but I don’t have a choice. I’m sure he’s wondering what the hell my problem is today.

“You rang,” I say as I saunter slowly into his office without even a knock.

“Tate,” he grunts, pinning me with a glare that may have some of the other guys pissing their pants, but I’m not afraid of him. Leaning back in the chair, he folds his arms over his chest. “Tell me what the fuck was going on in your head out there today? You’re never distracted, and I can’t have my best goalie distracted during a game. Do I need to put Drake in for the next game? I won’t hesitate to do it, just say the word.”

“You can’t bench me, Coach.”

“I can and I will. Want to bet?” He raises an eyebrow. My alpha bristles at the clear challenge in his voice and stance, but I know he’s being completely serious.

“Absolutely not, Coach. I’ll figure my shit out.”

Lips pursed, he stares at me for a minute before sighing. “What’s going on? Is this girl drama?”

“I’m mated, now. It’s recent, and…” I sigh. “You know what it’s like…”

He nods his head in agreement as he looks over at the picture sitting in the corner of the desk. “Unfortunately, I know all too well.” It’s a picture of him and his mate with their three kids. Two boys and a girl.

“Just figure it out, Geekies. I don’t want to bench you, but I will. Take the day tomorrow and get your head on straight.” His eyes go back to the papers laying on his desk, effectively dismissing me. He’s right. She needs to come to my next game. The only way I’ll be able to focus is if I can keep an eye on her. Problem solved.

I fume the whole way back to my house. As much as I’d like to just go straight to Nova’s place to see my mate, I need to do a few things at home first. Like get my fucking head on straight before I lose my goddamn mind. Coach has never chewed me out like that before. Not that he really chewed me out, but normally, I’m on top of my game and don’t need to be dragged into the office for my inability to do my job.

I don’t realize how fast I’m going until red and blue lights start lighting up the roof of my car. It’s then I hear the sirens. Fucking great. I slow down and pull to the side of the road like a proper adult and leave my hands on the wheel, waiting for them to get out of the car and write me the ticket I know they’re about to give me.

This damn omega. She’s driving me mad.

I roll down my window as the officer approaches, waiting for them to be a dick with a gun because he’s got a badge. These guys who think we can do whatever we want and get away with it because we’re famous, or because we play hockey, or any of the other reasons I’ve heard in my years on the team.

I brace for impact, but when I finally see the officer, I notice that it isn’t a male at all. She’s not an omega, thank fuck, but she’s definitely a beta.

“Well, as I live and breathe, I’ve pulled over the infamous Tate Geekies. Guess it’s my lucky day.” There’s a hint of flirtation in her voice, and she flips her hair away from her face in one of those stupid attention-grabbing motions some girls do.

“Afternoon.” I smile at her through gritted teeth. It feels slimy even occupying another female's space. I may have had my time on the player wagon, but I have Rebel now.

“Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

I shake my head at her, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that I was more than likely speeding like a bat out of hell and not realizing it.

“I clocked you going 60 in a 45.”

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