Page 7 of Full Body Hit, Part 2 (Alpha Omega Hockey #6)

CHASE

C hase didn’t know what the hell was happening.

He thumbed the edge of his phone as he sat on a barstool in Auston’s kitchen, watching him cook. Cook , not reheat a frozen meal or call for takeaway.

His phone burned where it lay innocently on his lap. There was no reason to text Aunix. What would he even ask? For permission to have lunch with Auston? It wasn’t as if this were a date. Auston was being friendly , not…romantic.

It had been a while since Chase had even thought about his old fantasies, but that strange shooting practice could have been pulled right out of one of them.

Of course, in his imaginings, Auston took him to the locker room after.

Would put him on his knees as a reward, let Chase show him how good he really was.

That wasn’t happening here.

Obviously.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Chase checked in.

Auston didn’t even glance at him, focused on the pan of vegetables he was handling. “Nah. You just sit there and look pretty.”

Chase felt his face flame, blood rushing to his head so quickly he felt dizzy with it.

That was just an expression. Auston hadn’t called him pretty , that would be insane.

Jesus, Chase needed to calm the fuck down.

He put his phone aside and rubbed his hands on his jeans. He had to make conversation, or his thoughts were going to kill him. “You like cooking?”

Auston shrugged. “I don’t mind the process, but what I like is knowing exactly what goes into my body.” He finally locked eyes with Chase, a teasing half smile on his face. “I think it’s important to have control over that kind of thing.”

Chase nodded dumbly, mouth dry, and what was wrong with him? That wasn’t sexy.

And yet, hearing the word ‘control’ drip from Auston’s mouth, as thick and sweet as honey, made Chase’s whole body clench up.

He was forced to snap out of it as Auston returned the question. “I’m guessing it’s not a big priority for you?”

“Why would you assume that?” Chase huffed.

Auston glanced at him again, smile wider now. “I haven’t met a single rookie who’s put any energy into it, is all.”

“I enjoy it, actually.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

Chase let that question percolate through him. “Well…I like the process. I think it’s calming. It’s kind of similar to skating, honestly—you gotta be focused on something, on what your body is doing.”

Auston nodded slowly. He’d abandoned the pan completely now, staring at Chase with a steadiness the conversation didn’t merit.

“And I guess I like that it’s something I can do to…to not depend on anybody.” The words felt confessional.

His mom had always been the one to feed him. To decide what he did and didn’t eat, monitoring his weight, his muscle mass.

It wasn’t as if Chase had suddenly gone wild and started eating what his mother would deem ‘unhealthy’, but… he got to decide what that was.

It was liberating.

“I didn’t know that about you,” Auston replied softly.

Chase laughed, the sound choppy. “Well…we haven’t talked much.”

Auston’s face did—something. It didn’t close off or become cold, but it tightened somehow, losing the softness around the eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

Chase tried to shake off the strange energy that had suddenly enveloped them, as if the air had been forced out, leaving them in a small, intimate vacuum.

He’d hoped to lighten the mood during the meal, but it was more of the same. They sat at an actual table, Auston staring at him more than the food on his plate, eyes barely wavering.

It felt…intimate. As if their history wasn’t one of co-workers. Of almost strangers.

Every attempt to talk about hockey was batted away.

“You good living alone? Rare for a rookie,” Auston asked even though Chase had been trying to dissect the power play.

“Yeah, it’s nice. I mean, obviously it’d be cool to live with Sammy and Noah or something, but…” Chase shrugged.

Auston frowned. “Noah didn’t offer anything when you got a place on the team? That’s—that’s not right. Even if it’s not with him, a captain should—”

“Oh, no. He did,” Chase cut in as Auston worked himself up. “But my mom…well, she kind of suggested I should live alone.”

Auston’s face went eerily blank. “Oh? Did she have a reason?”

“Uhm…just to grow up? Not get too soft, you know?” Chase laughed—it was a joke, kind of—but Auston wasn’t amused.

“There’s nothing wrong with soft.”

Chase snapped his mouth shut. He didn’t have a reply to that.

“Think about living with them next year,” Auston suggested. “Sammy would lose his mind.”

That cracked the tension. “I don’t know…third-wheeling those two, even at home?”

Auston laughed. “You’ve got a point there.”

It was when the meal was practically over that Auston sobered up, shoulders tensing. “Hey. I wanted to apologise again. About how I acted the last few months.”

Chase shook his head. “You don’t have to keep doing that. It wasn’t that bad, anyway.”

“I—”

“Auston. It’s cool. Seriously.”

Their gazes stayed locked for a few seconds. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure my number one fan didn’t feel disillusioned. Remind me. How many posters of me did you have?”

Chase sat back, stiff spine relaxing. “Shut up.”

Auston laughed, and there it was again—that look, so tender it was out of place.

It made Chase think of that night in the hotel. Sharing a bed with Auston. Waking up with the Alpha hot against his back. The way that heat and weight had felt.

How good it’d been.

How wet Chase had gotten.

He stared at Auston, a sudden sense of vertigo taking over him. He was falling forwards, the room spinning. Only Auston stood still, a rock in a violent river.

Auston’s face lost the smile, focus sharpening, piercing through Chase right where he was pinkest.

Chase opened his mouth. The air was locked in his chest.

He wanted to—

No.

The moment cracked, Chase blinking down at his hands.

What the hell was he doing? This wasn’t something he’d ever want Aunix to do with someone else. To feel with someone else.

Chase didn’t have to cross any lines to know he was treading far too close to them.

“The food was really good,” Chase murmured, stacking his cutlery on his plate.

“Thanks. I have ice cream if you want—”

“No.” Chase winced. “Sorry, I just meant that I should go.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.”

There was no way that sounded disappointed.

Chase helped clean up at least, but he kept the conversation safely in the arena of hockey. For the first time that afternoon, Auston acquiesced, quieter than he’d been all day.

“Well,” Chase said as he put his shoes on, crouched by the front door. “That was really nice. Thanks.”

He stood up, catching himself as he almost bumped into Auston, the Alpha was so close.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Auston steadied him with a hand on his arm. It felt like fire. “No problem.”

This was when Chase took a step away. When he pulled away from the contact searing his skin. There was too little distance between them, chests brushing, Chase looked up at Auston, the air between all breath.

Chase swayed.

The hand on his arm tightened.

Auston opened his mouth, and—

“Okay,” Chase said, taking a step back. Auston broke the contact. “I’ll see you at practice.”

His heart was rabbiting so hard, he didn’t even hear Auston’s reply. He had to get out of there.

He nodded anyway, smile tacked onto his face, only able to actually breathe once he was outside the building, cold air filling his lungs.

That had been…there was no way Chase had read that right. Auston hadn’t been going to kiss him. Chase hadn’t been going to kiss Auston, either—obviously.

That had just been…nothing.

It’d been nothing.

He hurried to the car, taking his phone out with his keys.

He was calling Aunix as soon as he got home. That was the only person he wanted to kiss.

***

Logic had returned to Chase by the time he made it home and into his nest.

What a ridiculous overreaction. Nothing had happened. Auston had been perfectly polite. Friendly, even. Maybe it was the shock from the difference between the Alpha now and before that Chase was interpreting as…intent.

Interest.

And Chase—he didn’t have eyes for anybody but Aunix. Sure, being around a friendly Aunix stirred some old memories, but it was nothing more than that.

But lust couldn’t compare to the enormous ocean of feeling he had for Aunix.

Still, the urge to hear Aunix’s voice hadn’t dissipated.

He pressed his phone to his ear instead of putting it on speakerphone, needing to feel it near.

“Hey.”

The knots in Chase’s muscle loosened at the familiar tone. “Hey, Daddy. You busy?”

“Nope. Was gonna call you in a bit, actually.”

Chase grinned. “Yeah? Miss me, old man?”

Aunix’s reply was far more serious than the teasing called for. “You have no idea.”

Fuck if that wasn’t a slice to the heart. “Miss you too,” Chase whispered as if their conversations on the phone were due to living hundreds of miles apart instead of the paralysing fear of meeting face-to-face.

At least, it was fear on Chase’s part. He wasn’t sure what Aunix’s reasoning was, and it was impossible to ask without having the question lobbied right back.

“How was your day?” Aunix asked.

Chase bit the inside of his cheek, both tension and relief flowing through him.

There would be liberation in some sort of confession.

“It was good. I had lunch with a co-worker.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s actually that guy that used to give me a hard time?” He winced, waiting for Aunix’s reaction—protective, concerned.

Instead, Aunix’s voice was perfectly steady. “How did that happen?”

“Well, remember how I said he took care of me when I had a concussion? And about how he apologised and how he’s been a lot better lately?”

“Yeah.”

“We did some extra work together, and he just…asked me over to his.”

“ Hm . How did it go?” No jealousy, no worry. Just…that.

“Well…” Visions of Auston flickered through his head—the heat of him as they stood by the front door. The way his eyes had tracked him during the meal, a hunting gaze.

There was no way to explain that to Aunix. What was he supposed to say?