Page 7 of Knot Your Pucking Mate
Chase
“Dude. Get off your damn phone already,” I groan, watching as Axel frowns down at the screen in front of him, his eyes mimicking that of a sad puppy. He’s lying beside me on the couch, not even watching the moviehepicked out.
It’s been a rough week. Our team has been playing like shit, and I just want to chill the fuck out with my packmate, down a few beers and reset for the week ahead.
It doesn’t matter whether we have a game on Monday, whether we’re at home, or holed up in a hotel on the road. Sunday nights are pack movie nights. We make it a point to spend this time together. It’s important. It’snormal. Something our lives generally aren’t given our status as elite hockey players. Thistime with Axel is the highlight of my week, especially given how hard our team is flailing at the moment.
“Sorry, bro,” Axel says, locking the screen on his phone and tossing it to the end of the chaise lounge with a sigh of frustration. “Marilyn assigned me the task of showing this author around today and teaching her some hockey basics. She writes these amazing romance novels. I’ve been a fan of hers for years. I thought we were hitting it off. We were about to go to lunch, but she just up and disappeared while I was in the shower. I’m trying to track down her contact details.”
“Wait, what?” Sitting forward, I pick up the remote and aim it at the television, pausing the movie. Whatever happened today already sounds more interesting than the movie playing on the screen. “You’re trying to track down the number of a girl who ran away from you? Why?”
“It’s not like that. Geez, Chase. You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of stalker. Marilyn wants me—us, actually—to help her out, anything she needs. Says it’ll be good PR for the team. You know she’s got this project that she expects us all to be a part of.” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his short brown hair. “It’s more than that, though. I felt something when I was with her today. There was, like, a palpable connection. I can’t just let it go. I think maybe she felt it too, and it freaked her out.”
“Dude. A palpable connection? What do you mean? You didn’t crack a stiffy on her, did you? Maybe that’s why she ran off. You sound like a bit of a creep. Maybe she wasn’t interested.”
“You’re a dick,” he says, scowling as he grabs a pillow and tosses it at me before standing up and stalking out of the room toward the kitchen.
Normally, Axel is pretty chill. He doesn’t let things get to him. The team gives him a grilling. No problem. Coach sets his sights on Axel’s form and makes him run extra drills; he takes it all in stride. We lose a couple of games in a row, Axel’s out there giving pep talks and trying to pump the team back up—even if some of the guys fucking hate it.
He’s a perpetual bag full of steaming hot positivity.
This behavior—storming away from me when I barely said anything—is not like him. Something’s wrong.
I stand up and follow him to the kitchen, where I find him leaning into the open fridge and examining the contents.
“Bro, what’s going on?” I ask, pulling out a stool at our breakfast bar and watching as he selects a protein water from the fridge. Grape. Axel gives me a hard time for having a sweet tooth, but that concoction is the sickliest, sweetest, syrupy drink ever invented.
He sighs heavily as he closes the fridge door and joins me at the breakfast bar. He’s quiet as he looks down at his drink, fiddling with the lid while he gathers his thoughts.
“This sounds ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand through his short hair before his bright green eyes lock with mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Axel quite so torn up, though he’s seen me at my absolute bottom.
When Axel and I met, I was not only recovering from an injury that had the potential to derail my entire career, but I was also in the deep, dark, lonely depths of my first—and only—heartbreak. That kind of pain sticks with you forever, shaping and defining the person you become.
If it weren’t for Axel and the way he immediately took me under his wing, welcoming me like a brother and leading me out of the darkness, I might have become a lonely, bitter asshole. He filled the space she’d left behind, saw me through my recovery and became my family—my pack.
Right now, my packmate looks desperately unsure of himself.
“She must have been wearing scent blockers, so I’m not sure,” he says, uncertainty causing a crease to appear between his brows. I’m not sure I like where this is going, but I wait, ready to hear what he has to say. “She might be an omega. I’m almost positive she is. And if she is, maybe she could beouromega.”
If it weren’t so serious, it would almost be comical how quickly my jaw hits the floor.
We’re alphas. Wanting an omega is hard-wired into us. We may be dominant and aggressive towards each other, but ourinstincts have us craving an omega to soothe and protect. They soften our hard edges and balance out a pack. It isn’t surprising to me that Axel would want that.
Hell, I want that.
But I don’t want anyone buther.
The girl who broke my heart. Whose heart I likely broke first.
She hadn’t yet presented when I left, but it wouldn’t matter. Alpha, beta, omega. I didn’t care. My heart beat only for her. It still does.
But she’s not here.
Axel is.
And he’s waiting for my response, his eyes pleading silently for me to understand. His campfire scent is smokier, more acidic, showing just how desperate he is for me to understand what he’s trying to tell me.
“How can you know?” I ask, trying not to let him see the minor freak-out taking place internally. “If you didn’t scent her and only spent a little bit of time with her, how can you know?”
