Page 13 of Puck Your Friend

For half a second, I forget where I am. Forget who I am supposed to be. All I can feel is the weight of their attention. Heat rises on the back of my neck and tears sting the corner of my eyes, but I force them back.

Ford blocks the others from getting too close. I see it in his eyes. He thinks I want to bolt.

I do. But not from them.

From myself, and the instincts clawing their way up through the iron walls I’ve built. Demanding I close the distance between us. That I give in to them as an Omega; submit and let them fill me with their knots and fulfill the desire in me that only they can satiate.

My suppressants aren’t working like they need to be. I can feel it. The neutral scent I’m supposed to project slips at the edges, thinning out with every ragged breath I drag in.

Not now.

My hand finds my necklace on impulse, and I run my finger across the stones. The rough texture grounds me just enough for me to drop it before Ford notices.

Jace steps into my line of sight, a wide, easy grin splitting his face with the same reckless familiarity he had when we were kids.“Took you long enough to find us.”

The laugh that tries to break free from my chest dies before it passes through my throat.

Logan shifts closer, his arms loose at his sides, mouth parting to say something, but then he closes it again.

Wes stands back a little, near the benches, his right arm in a black sling. He watches me, his face stoic, but his fingers flex at his sides.

None of them ask why I left.

They seemhappy.

Somehow, that’s worse. Because if they were mad, if they hated me, it would be easier.

They look at me like I never changed.

Like I’m still the girl who carved circles into trees and laughed louder than anyone else on the lake trails. The one who believed she could outrun everything, even her own body.

It turns out I’ve been on a closed track this whole time, and now I’m back at the starting line. Surrounded by the people who meant everything to me once. The ones I swore I would never hurt.

My heart pumps harder. I can’t let them see the cracks in my mask.

The girl they remember is gone. I don’t know what’s left of her. Only that there’s not enough to be that girl again.

Doug glances between us, the camera still perched on his shoulder. He shifts the angle. “So... you know each other?”

I force my fingers to stay down and not grasp my necklace again. “We met at a summer camp.” I fight to keep my voice even as I try to swallow, but my mouth is drier than a well-done steak. “For kids interested in fitness and sports. Not only did they give connections, they trained us in all sorts of things, so we were physically the best.”

I push forward before the pause gets heavy. “I used to want to play for the AWNBA.”

The Alpha Women’s National Basketball Association wasn’t just a dream taped to my bedroom wall. It was a path I fought for. Nights under the porch light dribbling until my arms gave out. Five-mile runs in the morning before school. I was dedicated to a version of myself I believed in without a shadow of a doubt.

Everyone said it was a sign.I had an Alpha’s hunger.

I believed them.

Jace’s gray eyes light up. “You would’ve made a killer Alpha.”

I laugh under my breath, a sound that’s more regret than humor. “Became a Beta instead.” The lie is one I’ve told a thousand times, and each time, I wait for someone to call me on my bullshit. “The League only allows Alpha women. So, I shifted dreams. Sports journalism instead.” My stomach knots tighter.

The locker room buzzes around me, players grabbing helmets and sticks, the scrape of covered blades on rubber mats blending with the dull roar of growing conversations. They’re now bored with the spectacle we created. At least I’m no longer the center of attention.

The door swings open, banging lightly against the wall. Their coach, Dan Glenlow, steps inside. A big man with a barrel chest in a blue Bear’s jacket stretched across his stomach. His thick beard’s dyed an unnatural black, that doesn’t match the deepwrinkles cutting through his face or the spots peppering his hands. Behind him stand several other trainers and assistant coaches. I haven’t bothered to learn their names, but I will if I have to.

He claps once, loud enough to cut through the noise. “Ice in five!”