Get Pucking Knotty

Chapter 1

Emeryk

[Nile] How’s your trip?

[Emeryk] I like how you make it sound like I’m on vacation. But we’re doing well. 3-1 wins.

[Nile] It’s disappointing that you get to travel all over and never have time to see anything.

[Emeryk] I see some things but yea, I agree. How’s my sweet packlet?

[Nile] Kyoto is walking around in a thong. Has been for three days.

[Nile] -pic-

[Emeryk] Goddamn, look at that booty.

[Nile] He says he’s getting hard just thinking about you taking them off him. He is getting hard. You should see him.

[Emeryk] Show me.

[Nile] He won’t let me. Says you’ll just have to hurry home.

The puck sailed down this way. My gaze zoned in on it, the little black disk that moved quickly across the ice. I remained stationary as I concentrated on its movement; its location. Needing to know where it was at all times. The edges of my vision darkened until all I saw was the ice. The surrounding noises faded away so all I heard was the skkk skkk skkk of blades on ice, the slap of a stick against the puck, and the quiet shhh of the puck across the ice.

Pass. Stick. Pass. Stick. Shuffle. Shot. My body shifted before I truly made a conscious decision to do so and I caught the puck in my glove. I gave the scowling wingman a smirk and tossed the puck back out to one of our defenseman.

It left my half of the ice. My attention never wavered as I tracked that thing like it was prey. There was a very good reason so many goaltenders were alphas. With all the hypotheses out there, the one I tended to believe the most was that our predator instincts kicked in when we stood within the crease. All we wanted to do at that point was protect what was ours.

When you could channel that instinct into something useful, like professional sports, it usually worked out well. At least, it did for me.

The seconds were ticking by. At this point, we were going to win this game regardless of whether the opposing team scored or not. But I’d made it this far, I was hoping for another shutout.

My thoughts stilled as the puck came screaming down to this end again. It was passed back and forth several times before Linus Carnegy, our mountain of a defenseman, caught it and flung it away just as quickly. It sailed down to the other side, hit the wall, and met Thiago Rivers’ stick. Thiago passed it to our center, Finnian Birch, who passed it back. One of the defensemen on the other team tried to steal it away, but the puck was already gone.

It met Romy Torin’s stick, and he sank the goal. His face lit up as the crowd erupted. For just a second, it felt like the rest of the world fell away and I was staring at this man. He turned to me right away and our eyes locked. His smile was wide, his brown eyes dark and fathomless. His smooth skin glistened in the bright lights of the arena.

And then he was in my arms. He was smaller than me, small even for a beta. But he was strong, quick and agile. Even with his gear on, he leapt into my arms. His legs hooked on my hips, my arm secured around his waist, as he raised his hand in the air.

“You’re fucking awesome, Puckshot!” I shouted. His arm was hooked around my neck. I could feel the pressure of his stick pressed against my back. Not that I could actually feel the stick through all my padding.

His laughter filled my head and again, the world fell away. He looked down at me, meeting my eyes. My heart fluttered. Chest heaved. Silence surrounded us for a heartbeat. A second. A third. Then the moment was broken when more of our teammates circled us.

The game ended a few short seconds later, and after a quick show of sportsmanship on the ice, we headed for the visitor locker room. It took me ages to get out of my gear, as it always does. Sometimes I felt like I had five times as much as any other player, and I appreciated it when the pucks were flying. But fuck, it sucked when I was ready to get under the hot water and wash the sweat away.

Our team was still loud with excitement and celebratory antics. I smiled absently as I slipped back into my suit. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it down the chute before I was called in front of the press. Sometimes it was difficult to put on a friendly face; especially when I was fucking starving and just wanted to get out of here.

To see Romy.

Questions were shouted as soon as I took my spot behind the microphones. Usually, I just answered whichever was loudest and clearest. As I did now.

“You’ve just secured your seventeenth shutout game of the season,” a reporter yelled. “How confident are you that you can pull off another record-breaking season?”

“We still have thirty games left,” I said. “Anything could happen. But as long as my team is at their best and gives their all, I think we can succeed in making it another great season.”

“You really clenched the game tonight. You faced twenty-nine shots. How did it feel to win another game?” one shouted.

“Each of my teammates is a vital part of the success of our team. I might have physically prevented the puck from getting into our goal, but so did both of my defensemen several times. So did a few of my offensive players a handful of times each. And I’d like to point out that preventing goals doesn’t win a game. We still needed to score. I had nothing to do with that,” I said.

I wasn’t the humblest player in the league. I really wasn’t. But for some reason, the press liked to focus on my ability to play shutout games. Don’t get me wrong, there was very little that compared to the end of a game where I was able to pull that off. However, I knew that I was only able to do that with the assistance of the rest of my team. Yes, I was the player sitting in the goal, but a lot of plays didn’t even make it my way because of the way the rest of my teammates did their very best at their own jobs.

Hockey was a team sport. We might fight individually for our position every single day against our teammates, but on the ice, our priority first and foremost had to be coming together as a team. If we didn’t, we simply didn’t win.

“Romy Torin had the winning goal,” a reporter shouted. “He immediately went to you to celebrate. Is there finally a romance brewing?”

“While that isn’t entirely relevant to the game, yes, Torin scored the winning goal. He also had amazing assists from Birch and Rivers. Torin and I are good friends but I’m close with all my teammates.”

“Is there a secret romance?” someone shouted.

There’s a part of me that wanted to tell them that if I confessed to something like that, it wouldn’t be secret now, would it? I didn’t say that. Fuck, we’d never get any sleep. Instead, I said, “Are there any other relevant questions?”

A few more were shouted, but most of them revolved around Romy and me, so our coach pulled me from the room and took over. My heart leapt when I found Romy waiting for me in the hall, leaning against the wall.

“Hey, secret lover,” I said, picking up my bag that I dumped outside the door.

He laughed and fell into step beside me. “Don’t say that. They’re fucking vultures.”

I knocked my shoulder against his. Although, his five-foot-seven frame was nearly a foot shorter than my six-four, so really, it was my arm knocking into his shoulder. He looked up at me, smiling. Part of the reason the world loved Romy so much was his youthful baby face. He was twenty-six but somehow managed to look barely eighteen.

“They’ll fabricate anything,” I said as we stepped outside into the cool evening air and headed for the bus that would take us back to the hotel. “But seriously, that goal was awesome.” I rested my hand on his shoulder, catching his smile as he ducked onto the bus in front of me.

Romy was always shy and kept himself separated from the team as much as possible. He didn’t like touch, or having people in his space. He avoided alphas as a rule. And though I tried not to let it go to my head, I was the exception to all that.

He liked my company. He sought it out sometimes and on those days, I was flying high. Romy still avoided touch as much as possible unless we were on the ice. It was like our miles of padding made him comfortable enough to accept a bit of contact.

I met his eyes as I sank into the seat next to him. His smile was still shy when he turned his attention out the window.

He got traded to the Lasko Valley Dire Wolves three years ago. Immediately, I was drawn to him and I was pretty sure he felt the same way. But as often as I asked him out, he always turned me down.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t a creep about it. If I thought that he actually didn’t want me, I’d have backed off a long time ago. And I only asked respectfully. Hell, I tried not to ask anymore at all. But sometimes I got caught up in our conversations, our subtle flirting, whatever, and it just came out of my mouth.

There’s this expression that came over his face. His soft scent changed slightly. And more than anything, I was always sure that he wanted to say yes.

But something always held him back. I didn’t believe for a second it was because he didn’t want me. He couldn’t hide his reaction to me; his scent didn’t lie. One day, I’d get it out of him why he wouldn’t let himself be with me.

Not now. I didn’t want to push. Especially not while we were in the middle of a season. Maybe this summer. I didn’t know.

We spent the time we were waiting for the rest of our team talking about the game or the video game we played together. Whenever someone else said something to one of us, Romy went silent. Unless he was directly spoken to, he usually went quiet. When it was an alpha, he sank into me a little, as if he were trying to hide.

There was a part of me that wondered if he’d been hurt in the past. Maybe not emotionally, but physically. Was that why he didn’t like alphas? Was that why he avoided them at all costs?

Of our twenty players, five were alphas. Three of which, me included, were interested in Romy. There was just something soft about him, something sweet. Not soft in the traditional sense, because Romy’s body was as magnificent as they came. Hard in all the right places, even if he was smaller and leaner. He was still perfection.

His softness was in his quiet demeanor. His reserve. If alphas were anything, we were first and foremost protectors. Omegas brought it out of us the most, but there was the occasional beta that screamed for the same reaction from us. Romy wasn’t the only beta on our team that garnered it. Thiago Rivers did as well, though I thought for a very different reason than Romy.

Thiago was nothing like Romy. He was always happy and excited, ready to go along with whatever wildness the night brought. He was kind and sweet, but his personality was definitely not reserved and quiet like Romy. Still, alphas’ reactions to Thiago were almost always just as strong.

His scent was close to an omega’s, though I wasn’t sure why it seemed that way, since it was certainly herbal.

I glanced at Romy while Linus leaned over the seat in front of us. His dark eyes darted to Romy a few times, lingering there. Because I couldn’t help myself, I placed a hand on Romy’s thigh, which Linus didn’t miss. His eyes dropped to the possessive move and narrowed when Romy’s hand rested on top of mine.

Then his eyes came back up, having received the message, and we continued to speak about the game as if nothing else was going on around us.

I might not say it out loud, I might not have the right to say it, but Romy Torin was mine. Fuck anyone who thought they could move in on him. I would have this man if it was the last thing I did. I didn’t care how long it took me to possess him, but I would.

When the bus began moving, my phone pinged. Romy glanced my way, a smile tugging up the corner of his lips. “Your pack?”

“You and I both know I don’t have a pack,” I said, making him snort. Technically speaking, I didn’t have a pack. However, I’d been seeing Izan since I moved to Avanth Mountains years ago. I hadn’t always played for Lasko Valley. Though I began my career there, I was traded around for a while, and now I thought I’d probably end it there as well.

I met the alpha Izan when I first moved there a decade ago. Then I met the three-alpha Pack Adler when I moved back five years ago. And I met the pretty beta Jennifer early last summer. However, while I definitely had a relationship with all of them and yes, we had some pack-like habits and practices, we were not a pack.

I’d seen far too many packs fall apart when there were professional athletes in them. It didn’t seem to matter that the pack knew that for five to eight months a year, they wouldn’t really be able to focus on the pack at all, but on their sport.

It’s the same for celebrities. Sometimes movies took a year on location to film.

I didn’t want to get into a situation where we all ended up hurt. So, while I loved them all deeply and if they were still there and wanted me once I retired, then I had every intention of packing up with the five of them.

But for now, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not just because I didn’t want to end up hurting them. I didn’t want to get hurt either. I’ve borne witness to hockey careers ending because a pack fell apart and the player just couldn’t overcome that heartache.

It wasn’t something many talked about because pack bonds couldn’t be dissolved. They’re always there. Imagine having a pack and the entire thing came crashing down around you to the point where you decided you couldn’t live together. Couldn’t be together. How would you even survive that?

So, no. I didn’t have a pack. And I wouldn’t until I retired. It didn’t mean I didn’t have people I loved. Those who had my heart. Four alphas and a beta I was committed to in other ways. But for now, no pack.

Glancing at Romy’s smirking face as he stared at my phone screen, I thought, for just a second, that there was longing there. Sadness. His fingers brushed my leg, and he glanced up, his deep brown eyes meeting mine for a second. After flashing me a soft smile, he turned to look out the window to watch the city pass us by.

I was also in love with this beta. And fuck if I didn’t find a way to make him mine before all was said and done.

But for now, I looked back at my phone and messaged back my guys and sweet beta.