Page 2
Story: Pucking With My Head
With a nod, she started to glide around the ice, warming up.
“How old were you when you started skating?” Joey asked as she skidded to a halt, stumbling slightly because she had been going a little too fast. I had told her before, but it had been years ago.
“Four!” I beamed. “My mom loved ice skating, and where I grew up in Nebraska had a large ice rink, so she took me every week and I fell in love with it.”
“That sounds nice,” Joey said as we circled the rink. I liked to take the first ten or so minutes every lesson to get the student acclimated to the ice. Even if they skated every week, going from land to ice was an adjustment.
“It was,” I agreed. “Now, how do you feel about practicing our two-foot spins today instead of the one-foot?”
Joey groaned, throwing her head back. The movement made her lose balance for a moment, but she quickly regained composure before giving me a long-suffering look.
“I suppose so,” she sighed, her adorable face far too serious.
An hour later, Joey was exhausted but grinning as we made our way off the ice.
“You’re doing so well.” I smiled as we took our skates off.
Since she was my last student of the day, there was no point in remaining on the ice. Sitting beside Joey on the bench, I leaned down to untie my skates while also keeping an eye on her because all those laces could be difficult for children.
“Hey, munchkin, how’d your lesson go?” a warm voice said as they approached. A waft of fresh, salty air hit me before I could even glance up.
It wasn’t Gideon. I knew that scent far too well.
“Dad!” Joey happily greeted her father.
Glancing up, my eyes met those of Dr. Jensen Noble. My gaze darted over to the café, where Gideon was packing up his laptop.
So, they both had decided to pick up Joey.
All they needed was Cullen, and it would be a pack party.
Joey launched herself into Jensen’s arms, and he spun her around playfully. He was also much older than me, but that didn’t stop me from appreciating just how the muscles in his arms flexed as he swung Joey around.
He turned to me. “Beth, how are you?”
“I’m good, thank you.” I nodded, standing up. He was easily a foot taller than me, and without my skates on, I was extra small. I was an omega, and like most omegas, I was vertically challenged.
This close, his saltwater scent invaded my senses. Alphas smelled good; that was a given. Most of their aromas were pleasant, but there were always some outliers who smelled like dull printer toner or pencil lead. Pack Noble didn’t just smell pleasant.
Their scents were phenomenal.
The first time I met them, my brain had gone haywire, my entire body jolting in reaction. Even though I had been affected before, this reaction had been a whole new level. Every cell in my body had come alive, and my brain had been singularly focused on finding the source of that amazing smell.
When I’d realized that those said scents belonged to my student’s parents not long after, I had shrunk back. It didn't matter how amazing they smelled and how my omega insisted I needed to know them. They were significantly older than me, and it was inappropriate to date the fathers of one of my students. I needed my job desperately. I couldn’t risk losing it by behaving inappropriately.
I was working two, sometimes three, jobs just to be able to afford my tuition because my fathers refused to support me through college—well, they insisted they would pay if I went to a local college and stayed home, but I didn’t want that.
Jensen was still wearing his scrubs, which shouldn’t have been so appealing, but it certainly did it for me.
“Pulling more ER shifts?” I asked casually, ignoring the way my throat tightened.
Jensen nodded as he took Joey’s backpack off her. “Yeah, they were short-staffed, so I decided to help. The Chargers aren’t too busy at the moment, so I thought why not?”
He had been the team doctor for the California Chargers NHL team for a few years. Even though that was a full-time job and he even had a few assistants, he sometimes pulled shifts at the local hospital. He also used to be an all-star hockey player—so an accomplished overachiever.
When I had asked him about why he still took ER shifts, he had insisted it helped keep him sharp as a doctor. On the team, he saw many of the same sorts of injuries, whereas the ER really tested him.
“Well, Joey has done amazing today.” I beamed.
“How old were you when you started skating?” Joey asked as she skidded to a halt, stumbling slightly because she had been going a little too fast. I had told her before, but it had been years ago.
“Four!” I beamed. “My mom loved ice skating, and where I grew up in Nebraska had a large ice rink, so she took me every week and I fell in love with it.”
“That sounds nice,” Joey said as we circled the rink. I liked to take the first ten or so minutes every lesson to get the student acclimated to the ice. Even if they skated every week, going from land to ice was an adjustment.
“It was,” I agreed. “Now, how do you feel about practicing our two-foot spins today instead of the one-foot?”
Joey groaned, throwing her head back. The movement made her lose balance for a moment, but she quickly regained composure before giving me a long-suffering look.
“I suppose so,” she sighed, her adorable face far too serious.
An hour later, Joey was exhausted but grinning as we made our way off the ice.
“You’re doing so well.” I smiled as we took our skates off.
Since she was my last student of the day, there was no point in remaining on the ice. Sitting beside Joey on the bench, I leaned down to untie my skates while also keeping an eye on her because all those laces could be difficult for children.
“Hey, munchkin, how’d your lesson go?” a warm voice said as they approached. A waft of fresh, salty air hit me before I could even glance up.
It wasn’t Gideon. I knew that scent far too well.
“Dad!” Joey happily greeted her father.
Glancing up, my eyes met those of Dr. Jensen Noble. My gaze darted over to the café, where Gideon was packing up his laptop.
So, they both had decided to pick up Joey.
All they needed was Cullen, and it would be a pack party.
Joey launched herself into Jensen’s arms, and he spun her around playfully. He was also much older than me, but that didn’t stop me from appreciating just how the muscles in his arms flexed as he swung Joey around.
He turned to me. “Beth, how are you?”
“I’m good, thank you.” I nodded, standing up. He was easily a foot taller than me, and without my skates on, I was extra small. I was an omega, and like most omegas, I was vertically challenged.
This close, his saltwater scent invaded my senses. Alphas smelled good; that was a given. Most of their aromas were pleasant, but there were always some outliers who smelled like dull printer toner or pencil lead. Pack Noble didn’t just smell pleasant.
Their scents were phenomenal.
The first time I met them, my brain had gone haywire, my entire body jolting in reaction. Even though I had been affected before, this reaction had been a whole new level. Every cell in my body had come alive, and my brain had been singularly focused on finding the source of that amazing smell.
When I’d realized that those said scents belonged to my student’s parents not long after, I had shrunk back. It didn't matter how amazing they smelled and how my omega insisted I needed to know them. They were significantly older than me, and it was inappropriate to date the fathers of one of my students. I needed my job desperately. I couldn’t risk losing it by behaving inappropriately.
I was working two, sometimes three, jobs just to be able to afford my tuition because my fathers refused to support me through college—well, they insisted they would pay if I went to a local college and stayed home, but I didn’t want that.
Jensen was still wearing his scrubs, which shouldn’t have been so appealing, but it certainly did it for me.
“Pulling more ER shifts?” I asked casually, ignoring the way my throat tightened.
Jensen nodded as he took Joey’s backpack off her. “Yeah, they were short-staffed, so I decided to help. The Chargers aren’t too busy at the moment, so I thought why not?”
He had been the team doctor for the California Chargers NHL team for a few years. Even though that was a full-time job and he even had a few assistants, he sometimes pulled shifts at the local hospital. He also used to be an all-star hockey player—so an accomplished overachiever.
When I had asked him about why he still took ER shifts, he had insisted it helped keep him sharp as a doctor. On the team, he saw many of the same sorts of injuries, whereas the ER really tested him.
“Well, Joey has done amazing today.” I beamed.
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