Page 158 of Hockey Halloween
She chuckles beside me. “Since his face got slashed up by a skate, scowling has been his permanent state.”
I sigh. “I was too distracted by his dreamy eyes to see it at first. Have you seen his eyes?” What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m turning into a fucking high school girl lusting after her first crush.
Athena laughs. “He hasn’t gotten any for a while. He’s kept to himself. Quiet, self loathing, only coming out to team events when Apollo demands it—which is every event—but he makes his displeasure known. See also, example A.” She tips her head to the still-scowling enforcer.
He’s still scowling, and there’s a muscle twitching in his face like he’s clenching his teeth. I’m not sure if it’s from the strenuous physical activity he’s doing, though. I think it’s because he knows I’m still staring at him. Because no matter what I tell my eyeballs, they don’t want to look at anything other than the beautiful beast who body checked me at the Halloween party.
Mason
Has no one ever told her that it’s rude to stare?
I brush the pool of sweat from my brow with the back of my forearm, and grunt as someone shifts the weight of the section of the maze clasped between my hands.
What is her problem? Hasn’t she ever seen someone disfigured before?
Ugh. And she’s talking to Athena, casting furtive glances this way like I can’t feel the heat of her stare as obviously as if she was pinching my skin with every glance.
“She’s single.” Apollo follows my line of sight, clearly misinterpreting my frustration as attraction. I mean, she’s an attractive woman, but I didn’t miss how her body reacted to me when she saw my scar.
“Not interested.”
He smirks. “Might want to tell your dick that.”
Fucker’s right. My dick’s trying to punch a hole out of my jeans. I thought I moved it enough to hide it, but clearly my captain has caught a glimpse of the trouser snake.
He points a finger at me. “I’m right, aren’t I? Dick’s so hard you could cut glass.”
Ares appears next to his brother. “Whose dick’s cutting glass?”
I groan. The only thing worse than one matchmaking de la Peña is two.
“Mac here has the horn for our new charity manager.”
Ares taps his chin with a dirty finger. “I could see it. She’s single.”
I roll my eyes with a shake of my head. “Not interested.”
Ares points at my face. “Might want to tell that blush in your cheeks you’re not interested.”
I gesture at the slowly diminishing pile of maze pieces in the middle of the open space. “Manual labor makes people hot.”
Both men fold their arms and exchange an incredulous look. “We’ve seen you squat two hundred pounds without breaking a sweat, Mac. Why can’t you just admit you’re hot for Lilith?”
Because she recoiled in horror at the disgusting and huge jagged scar down the side of my face?
“Because I don’t have time for women. Not everyone needs to be paired off now that you’re both happily tied down.”
Artemis appears as if silently summoned by his brothers as reinforcements. “Who’s getting tied down?”
I spear my finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking start, Arte. What you and Xavier do in the privacy of your own home isn’t any of my business. I don’t consent to hearing about your kinks.”
He snickers. “You fucking wish, Mac.” He scrubs his jaw with the palm of his hand. “She’s single, you know.”
His brothers dissolve into raucous laughter, and I throw my hand up and leave them to their cupid conspiring. I need to put these rumors to bed. I need to walk up to Lilith, the bewitching night monster, and tell her straight to stop staring at my face.
Someone’s hand touches my forearm. “She’s been burned before,” Apollo cautions.
Ares’s face falls somber. “She’s a Johnny White victim.”
