Page 49 of Puck My Life

“Sorry, my mistake.”

I want to correct him, call him back, give him my number, do something proactive to finding me some help that isn’t going to end up a complete mess.

Remi gives me another one of those beautiful smiles, tips an invisible hat, and goes back to his waiting teammates.

Mal drops his arm and sighs. “You wanted his number, didn’t you?”

I look at Mal quickly, pressing my lips together and glancing away.

“Should I be sorry?”

I shake my head because, honestly, no. What am I going to do with the number of an alpha who lives thousands of miles away?

Remi Sloan glances back, his eyes crinkling. If I see regret on his face, I wonder what he sees on mine.

“Keep walking, Sloan, or I’ll make what happened on the ice look like child’s play.” Deacon cracks his knuckles and glowers.

“Seriously?” I snap at him.

He whips his head to me. “Since when do you date hockey players?”

“It wasn’t a date. It was an invitation that I never got to decline. And keep your aggressive, vile words for the ice where it belongs. I don’t want to hear any of your crap, Deacon.”

He steps into me. I back up, but there’s a wall there. I tilt my head right back, staring at him. He’s always like this after the games, more on edge, angry, frustrated, sexually charged. Normally, he brings home a girlfriend, and I exit the property.

I lift my chin, staring into his furious blue eyes.

“Let’s go, Mal.”

Mal looks between us and then steps away from me. I scowl at him.

“Why did you want me to come here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

I. I wanted.

“Typical,” I hiss bitterly.

I turn on my heel and stalk off, furious at them. Though I search for Remi, I don’t find him, and when I’m lying in my hotel room alone, I think maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s right that I don’t find him again.

But lying there alone, feeling sorry for myself, I really wish Deacon and Mal had waited just a few minutes longer before they appeared.

The strange noises of traffic outside and the weird, unpleasant scent of the hotel room keep me awake until the dawn light pushes through.

It’s definitely not the thought of them going to pound town on Indy.

I groan and roll onto my side, tracing the watermark as I fight off the intrusive thoughts.

I have a laundry list of things to address with the guys, but I can’t even focus enough to consider it. I need to sleep.

Still, sleep doesn’t come. Instead, the heat returns, and I find myself fighting my body that wishes for an alpha, even one like Remi Sloan.

Mal

PAST

Vae is acting really cold with us. It’s taken me a while to realise something is wrong.