Page 39 of Take All of Me

“They’re doing that shit on purpose.” His hands flex, like he’s itching to hit something, someone.

“Yes, they are,” I murmur, meeting his gaze, because I need him to actually hear me. “But I’m worried aboutyouright now. I know you’re not handling this shit well, and I see you keep checking out 47.” The guy who’s been leading these assaults on Brogan didn’t go unnoticed but I’m also not going to have Roman attacking someone on the ice. “Don’t touch him. Don’t fucking touch him. Beat him at his own game and win. We’ve got an entire half to show them their cheap tricks don’t work.”

Roman’s jaw tightens as he steps closer, water soaking through his shirt. “I just…” His resolve is breaking, his instincts trying to force their way through and in his own silent way, he’s asking for help.

I press a hand against his chest, meeting his gaze, challenging him to step down. It takes a few moments before he relaxes against me, letting out a heavy breath and it’s all I need. “If I had tried to play Nox at his own game, I’d still be with him. Words didn’t work on him and while I shouldn’t have been so reckless, the surgery that took his bite from my neck not only saved my life but made a point.” My throat tightens, shame creeping in, because I’ve buried the fight that cost me so much, that left me scarred, inside and out.

Roman’s eyes soften, pain flickering through his expression as his hand hovers over my neck, fingers trembling, not quite touching where the scar lies. “You’re beautiful regardless, Maya.”

“So, all of you keep telling me,” I tease, but there’s truth in it. Slowly, I step back and peel off my dad’s jacket, letting it fall to one of the benches outside the shower. And then the sweatshirt follows, my scar fully on display, a story I’m done hiding. I slip the jacket back on before grinning back up at Roman, vulnerable in front of him. “Let’s be strong together, okay? Show them they don’t get to dictate our choices, hmm?”

Roman’s shoulders ease, his gaze darting to my shoulder and then back to my face. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“And if you feel like beating the shit out of one of them, come meet me at the glass, yeah?”

“I can do that,” he repeats, pulling me into his chest and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get back to the ice so I can whoop their ass. Figuratively.”

Brogan is still there when Roman and I enter the main area of the locker room, a sloppy grin spreading across his lips. His eyes are clearer but he still looks like he’s about to fall over, my chest aching at how much pain he’s probably in with the ice sitting on his shoulder. The team has cleared out but Holt is there, helping Brogan to his feet. “Lincoln mentioned he’s cleared for play. He didn’t hit his head but I’m not sure I wanna put him out there after that last hit.”

Brogan stumbles forward, my heart lurching in my chest. “Yeah, no, it’s not worth the risk. Brogan’s out. Miles is in.” I want to apologize to Brogan, saying that this has nothing to do with my feelings but he’s already one step ahead of me, throwing an arm over my shoulder when I get close enough.

“Good call, coach. I’m not gonna pass out, but the wind might blow me over. I’m good, though, just a little dizzy. Doc said to come through if anything persists.”

That gives me enough confidence to help him walk back out to the box and rest him down on the bench, Roman throwing me a grin as he steps out onto the ice. I gesture to Miles to get readyand then glance back at Holt, hoping that we come out of this game in one piece.

And maybe with a little luck, a win.

Maya

Once again, we’re down to the last few minutes, still tied at zero. My heart’s in my throat, watching the other team attack each and every play we have. It’s like they’re reading us before it even happens but I’m not giving up.

“Riley, press high!” I yell, and Holt flashes a pivot for Tanner. Every now and then, Roman skates up to the glass, his eyes locking on mine, his hands pressing flat, a silent check-in. I smile up at him and place my hands on the other side as he bows his forehead to the glass, then skates off. A quick glance back at Brogan tells me that he’ll be okay, maybe a bit bruised but he’ll survive, his gaze trained on our team. Turning to Holt, I gesture toward Dakota. “How is he holding up?”

“Surprisingly well, with the amount of scent and heat blockers he’s doped up on. I looked up the rule books—since Omegasrarely play this sport, there’s nothing against it. Though that might change at some point.”

The game surges, everyone on the edge of their seats as Riley snaps a goal, the Northvale fans cheering at our first goal. I turn, high-fiving the bench players, the energy surging through the stadium. Holt squeezes my shoulder, reminding me that I’m in charge, that my few murmurs of ideas aren’t there waiting for permission but waiting for me to unleash them. I take a split second to decide before sending out the second line. The other team has been watching the first line the entire game. They won’t have a chance to figure out these newer players.

The first line skates back, most of them confused.

“What’s going on?” Tanner asks, catching his breath as he plops down onto the bench.

“They’re used to you but we’ve got a whole handful of other players with different styles, and they’re gonna run that one play from practice.” I tap my shoulder, the second line’s faces lighting up, nods and grins spreading. The confidence they have in me is everything as they move into formation, Logan leading as I check back on Brogan once more.

Roman and Dakota flank him on either side, Roman leaning over to squeeze Brogan’s thigh as the Beta relaxes between them. There’s something growing between them and I’m excited to watch it bloom, however it grows. Turning my attention back to the ice, I watch as our players enforce a play I made with my father, a play that worked in practice, and one I’m hoping gets us a win here.

The game pushes on, Logan darting, the second line fluid, their play unfolding like we drilled in practice. I shout, “Logan, now!” and Holt signs a screen just as Logan fires, sending the puck sailing. It feels like an eternity, my breath caught in my throat as I watch it cross the ice and then… it’s in! A goal as thebuzzer screams, the crowd erupting, a wave of sound that lifts through the stadium.

Holt pulls me into his chest, firmly kissing my lips. “First of many, Maya. Damn, I can’t wait to see where we go from here.”

The team voted on where to go to dinner and I’m glad it wasn’t sloppy joes because my stomach has been doing too many turns and flips to digest that. The burger joint just down the street was the preferable choice, a chaotic hum of laughter, clinking bottles, and the sizzle of grease. I’m squished in one of the back booths, the team sprawled around me, passing beers, sandwiches, and greasy fries. Our first win with me as coach is still buzzing through my head, the excitement of the night waning a little as I focus on Brogan at my side.

I tried to persuade him to head back to the dorms, but he wasn’t having it, his grin stubborn as he told me, “We celebrate as a team, coach.” And here we are, Northvale’s players, campus friends, all crammed together, my heart fuller than it has been in years.

Not one person has mentioned my scar, dwelled on it, laughed at it—nothing.It’s… freeing, like I’m finally Maya again, not just a piece of the woman I used to be. Holt bumbles up to the edge of the booth, a little tipsy from what I can tell. “Congratulations, Coach,” he murmurs before dragging me into a kiss. The team hollers, someone yelling K-I-S-S-I-N-G, laughter bubbling up when he pulls back. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m really fucking happy but if you don’t let me out, I might piss all over the seat and as far as I know, that’s not anyone’sthing.” He snorts but lets me through, squeezing my ass as I pass him.

I weave through the crowd, eager for a moment of silence that doesn’t include all of the chaos. Just a moment where I can breathe, telling myself that I’ve earned all of this. The bathroom’s empty as I find a stall, do my business and then step out to wash my hands, Nox staring at me through one of the mirrors. His eyes are dark, predatory with an expression I’ve never seen, my heart lurching into my throat. We’re not on campus so there’s nothing saying he can’t be here but he knows I want nothing to do with him.

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