Page 15 of My Pucking Mate

Coach seems to sense my turmoil. He pats me on the shoulder, making his way to the center of the locker room. “All right, LISTEN UP!” he bellows. The men immediately quiet and turn their attention to the old wolf. “I thought with it being the first game of the season you wouldn’t mind letting the old man give the pep talk today,” he says as the men chuckle around the room.

His speech is motivating, empowering, invigorating, and most of all, it’s got the men all pissed off and ready to slaughter the Vultures. I definitely couldn’t have brought out those emotions today. I need to get my head in the game.

I made sure to set everything up so that she can be part of the postgame interview even though it’s supposed to be for seasoned journalists. Little do they know I have another plan up my sleeve as well. I don’t want her interview to suck, which is why I need to get my head on straight so we can beat them. Not that I’m worried about my team, but with Khaos being the Vulture’s team captain . . . I really just can’t afford a loss today for any reason.

The electric energy of the crowd as we skate onto the ice for our warm-ups is exactly what I needed. No matter how many games we play, I never take this feeling for granted. I wonder if this is how an incubus feels all the time, feeding off people’s energies. It’s no wonder the few I know are part of the music industry.

The stands are filling with people of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds all coming together to watch us play. The buzz of the arena continues to climb towards crescendo as more and more people file in. Everywhere you look, there are people smiling, laughing, scowling, and hollering as the teams take to the ice.

It’s not enough that it’s the first game of the season, but it's against the Vultures. That means this game is going to be intense. Probably a few brawls, maybe even a little blood. A lot of that has to do with Khaos and I, but our men despise each other equally. I don’t know if Benny or the twins are more excited for what they hope will be a blood bath of a game.

We’re warming up when she walks in. I can’t find her in the madness of the arena, but I can feel her. I know she’s here, and I let the warmth of the mate bond wash over me. I haven’t feltthis feeling in five hundred years, and I definitely never expected to feel it again. The initial shock still hasn’t worn off, but now I know it’s real; this is really happening. I have another chance. I don’t know what I did, or will do, to deserve this, but I will make the most of every moment. I can never thank the Goddess enough for this precious gift.

It's the season opener, so the pregame show is even more loud and obnoxious than usual. The fans, human and not alike, go feral for it. The loud music, the flashing lights, and the T-shirt cannons are all pounding along with the beat of my heart. Usually, it's all game energy but tonight is different. Yes, it's the first game of the season, but she's here and she changes everything.

As my name is called to skate onto the ice with my men, I allow myself one more chance to look around the rink to see if I can spot her in the sea of faces. I’m not able to locate her , but I can feel her excitement through the bond, and for now that will have to be enough. I do manage to make eye contact with Khaos, so while I have his attention, I flip him off. The arena erupts again as he attempts to lunge at me, but his team holds him back.

The first period was mayhem. It didn't seem as though anyone even cared about the puck as much as they did just beating the shit out of each other. I spent the whole time avoiding getting pummeled, while still trying to find my girl. If I could just see her for a moment, maybe then I could focus on the game.

We’re already into the second period, and Khaos and his men seem to sense my distraction. They’ve gotten a lot more shots in on me than usual. I haven’t scored a single goal, but thanks to Slate, they haven’t either.

13

Walking through the large doors of the hockey arena again caused a slight panic when I recall the only other time I was ever here. Panic isn’t the only thing I feel, though. I don’t know how, but I swear I can feelhim.It’s like this weird awareness and warmth. Like, my body knows he is here and wants to find him. This is so weird. Am I excited to see him, or do I want to avoid him for as long as possible?I think to myself.

I catch a glance of myself in the floor-to-ceiling glass walls and smile. Zoey has named herself not only my best friend but now also my fashion manager. She had a plan of action ready before I could even stress myself out with what to wear.

The Mogadore Predators’ team colors are maroon, black, and white, which was awesome for me. The colors complement me perfectly.

Zoey had my clothes all laid out on display for me when I got home to get ready for the game. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I ask, taking in the outfit that was the perfect combination of warm, professional, and gorgeous.

“No, you haven’t, but I’ll take payment in the form of my own hunky hockey player. Put in a good word for me,” she says with a wink.

Scoffing dramatically and rolling my eyes, I take in my ensemble for the evening. She’s taken this job especially seriously, as she seems to think I’m much more experienced with men than I am.

It starts with the cutest black lace bra and panty set that I had sitting in the back of my drawer for this normal college girl experience I wanted to maybe have. The next layer consists of some black pleather leggings and a long-sleeve black T-shirt. There’s a perfect maroon, oversized, chunky sweater to keep me warm in the arena. The finishing touches are a fluffy black infinity scarf and my warm black snow boots. To keep my hair from turning into an electric science experiment from the scarf, I pull it into the messiest, messy bun, pulling a few pieces loose around my face for that perfect look.

I felt so pretty when I looked in the mirror but I’m second guessing everything now. I was so confident in my outfit last time and look how that went. I sigh and shake my head at myself for allowing my thoughts to take that direction. I needed to channel more of Mom’s whimsy nature, but it seemed to be evading me lately.

Chic little briefcase in hand, I straighten my spine, make my way inside and flash my press badge to the receptionist.

Warm-ups have already started, and I mentally scold myself for not getting here sooner. I’ve been studying as much hockeyinformation as I can to understand what’s going on tonight, and I wanted to be here for the full experience of watching the teams skate onto the ice and such.

Nevertheless, I make my way into the stands to find my seat. Luckily, I’m seated with a lot of other Predators’ fans. I'm a couple rows up from the second-level railing, and I have a great view of the entire rink. In my research, I found that the Vultures and Predators have a lot of bad blood and are one of the league's biggest rivalries. The last thing I wanted to do today was get in the way of some crazy sports brawls by being stuck with fans from the wrong team.

The closer I got to the rink, the stronger the strange pull in my body became. The second I could see the ice, my body felt like it would lurch out there with all the players. With all their gear on, I couldn’t tell which one he was until I saw the giant number twenty-three on his back. He seems to be looking for something in the stands.I wonder if he’s looking for me.Just as the thought crosses my mind, his head turns toward me, and for some reason I choose that moment to hide behind a couple of guys in the row in front of me.

I still haven’t decided if I’m excited to see him or afraid from our last encounter. I slowly peek back out of my hiding spot to watch as the pregame show begins, the starting players are announced, and the game begins.

You can immediately feel the tension in the entire arena. It's radiating from the ice; it's so thick that it feels like you could reach out and grab it. These two teams hate each other very much; that is clear. The power they use to slam each other into the walls, rattling the plexiglass protector that keeps us from being hit with wild pucks, is otherworldly. Not only the power, but they’re also so incredibly fast that there have been multiple moments where I could barely keep track of the puck.

Each time Roman gets close to looking in my direction, I chicken out and hide behind someone near me. He's probably not even looking for me; why would he? But I don't know . . . it just feels like he is. I’m small enough, so it's not a difficult task. I guess it’s not really fair of me, though, since I’m sitting here totally engrossed in every move he makes. Trying to ignore all the strange feelings in my body is another situation entirely, and I'm failing miserably at pretending it's not happening.

14

Two periods into this game and I’m borderline feral. We have to win this game and it’s the last period.

I still haven’t been able to spot her.

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