Page 20 of Take All of Me

I pick up the call on the fourth ring, knowing that ignoring it won’t do me any good.

“Maya, I’m sorry for the state of the team,” he says. “I knew an assistant position was open, but I had no idea the true extent of things. I’d understand if you’re not interested.”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see it. “I’ll take it. But you could’ve warned me the coach was a deadbeat and didn’t want me here.”

The dean sighs, a tired sound. “I’m sorry for that too. It’s gonna be bumpy the next few weeks—unless you’re willing to take the head coach position, Mason needs to stay, even if in name only.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why do I feel like we’re gonna bump heads a bunch?” I ask, half-joking, half-dreading.

“I’ve never seen him have a problem with Holt, so I’m not sure he has a problem with you. If you have an issue, call me or let Holt know. I asked Holt if he wanted to be coach, but that’s off the table. I’ll look into finding someone else. You work on getting us a championship.”

“I think I can do that,” I say, and hang up, pocketing my phone.

The bathroom is much cleaner than I expected, spotless even with fresh towels, the air fresh with a clean, rainy scent that reminds me of Brogan. My mind snags on that, wondering if he helped clean, and before I can stop it, a fantasy takes over—Brogan in here, his hands on my waist, kissing me slow, pressing me against the tiles, fucking me with that easy charm turned hungry. I shake it off, cheeks burning, but the thought shifts, pulling Dakota into the frame as I’m caught between them. Then RomanandHolt, their hands, their heat—

I snap my eyes open, refusing to give into those thoughts. “That’s not possible.” My voice echoes in the empty space, a weak protest against the want pulsing through me. I strip down, tossing my clothes onto a bench, and start the shower, cranking it as hot as I can stand. There’s no use blocking those men out, though, and it’s only a matter of time before I give in completely.

Still, one thing at a time. Shutting off the shower, I let the steam curl around me as I reach for one of the towels resting justoutside. I find nothing, grumbling as I have to step out into the cold air of the bathroom, only to be met with the one person who shouldn’t be fucking anywhere near here.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

He’s standing a few feet away, by the entrance, a pile of towels at his feet. A grin splits across his face, one I used to mistake for charm as he steps closer. “I told you the next time we met, you wouldn’t have your boy toy to protect you.”

My blood runs cold, memories of his hands, his bite, flooding back, and I back up, hitting the wall. He’s between me and the door, and I realize with a sick lurch that I’m alone—no Holt, no Brogan, no Dakota to pull me out of this. My gaze darts to the door, a motion he clocks as Nox rushes toward me, his hand clamping around my neck with a force that steals my breath.

“I don’t take kindly to watching you parade yourself around with not just one of them but a handful,” he snarls, a venomous edge to his words. “You’remine, Maya, as I’ve told you, and I told you where you belong—which is at my side. Figure out whatever you need at this campus, because I gave you time to think about it.”

My blood boils, fear and fury tangling in my chest as I claw at his hand, nails digging into his skin. “You bastard,” I gasp, voice scraping past the pressure on my throat. “You told me what you wanted and I told you what wasn’t gonna happen.” His grip tightens, cutting off my air, and I struggle, fighting to stay present. “You left me for someone else,” I choke out, “and now you’re threatening me to get back together? Fuck you.” I spit in his face, a desperate act of defiance, his free hand cracking across my cheek.

Fear surges through me, because this anger is new and unhinged, nothing like the Nox I knew, the one who hurt me with words and betrayal, not fists. “You’re a little whore,” he whispers, leaning closer, his breath hot on my face, “but itdoesn’t matter. I’ll take you home, rebond you, and we’ll live like a happy little family. You’ll give me children and you’ll give up all these frivolous pursuits.” His words twist my stomach, a sick promise that makes my vision tunnel, spots dancing as I gasp for air that won’t come. I’m still struggling, kicking, clawing, but his hold’s too tight, and I’m fading, the bathroom’s tiles blurring into gray.

I didn’t think ignoring Nox would push him to this but he was always unpredictable. Trust was never there, not really, and now I see why my instincts screamed to run. “Why now?” I croak, voice barely a whisper. “Could’ve married me then.”

“Because the money’s needed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Just be a good girl and come home.”

“Home isn’t with you,” I push out, defiance burning through the fog. My hands flail, searching for anything—tiles, sink, something to grab—but nothing’s in reach. I act on instinct, ramming my knee up toward his groin. It’s not as hard as I want but it’s enough. He stumbles back, cursing, hands cupping himself as he bends over, and I suck in air, deep, ragged breaths that burn my lungs.

He straightens, face twisted with fury, and charges again but this time, I’m ready, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I dart to the side, bare feet slipping on the tiles as I bolt for the door. Mason is conveniently not across the hall as a scream tears from my throat, praying the locker rooms aren’t soundproof.

Holt

I shrug on a pair of pants, the locker room buzzing with the team’s post-practice chatter, all sweat, stink, and grins. Dakota leans over, stealing sweet kisses, lingering longer than he usually does, lavender muted but still curling around me.

Someone whistles and then Ethan, ever the shit starter, calls out, “You gonna give us a show, Holt?”

Dakota flips him the bird, not breaking the kiss, and I chuckle against his mouth, warmth spreading through me. The happiness of the moment dulls as sharp pain twists in my chest, stealing my breath. I frown, pulling back, and see Dakota’s eyes narrow, Brogan’s head snapping up from across the room, both of them sensing it too. The problem is that I don’t know what it is.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna make sure we got everything off the ice.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but I don’t care, rubbing at my chest as I step into the hallway. The pain’s new, a raw distress I’ve never felt, and it’s not mine—it’shers.A high pitched scream comes a few moments later and I take off, skidding around the corner as I rush toward the sound.

I’m not ready to see Maya charging toward me, naked and terrified, her vanilla scent burnt sour with fear. Her curls are damp, eyes wide as I catch her in my arms, steadying her trembling frame against my chest. My gaze snaps up, locking on an Alpha stalking toward us, everything about his presence here all wrong.

“Hands off, that’s mine,” he growls.

“What the fuck,” I snap, keeping Maya close, her skin cold under my hands. “She’s a person, not a thing. Second, who the fuck are you to be in this rink right now?” I twist her so that she’s not completely in his line of sight but without a shirt to give her, the best I can do is hold her until this Alpha is gone.

Maya’s shaking, tears streaming down her face, and I need to get her safe—clothes, warmth, somewhere he can’t touch her. The guy steps closer, eyes narrowing. “I’m her Alpha and you’d do well to not put your hands on her.”

Maya whimpers, pressing tighter against me, a sharp laugh tearing from my throat. “You’re not her Alpha because I am. Get the fuck out of the rink before I call security.” I’m not hers but the words feel right, words I’ll have to dissect later.

---