Page 5 of Major Penalty

I don’t think I mind.

Chapter two

~ARES~

She’s trying not to look at me.

But I see her. Wide golden-brown eyes and long, dark hair. And fuck, how long is it? If I grabbed a fistful, how many times could I wrap it around my hand? Twice? Three times? How soft would it feel in my grip—

I flex my jaw and exhale through my nose.

Stop.

She’s standing here in front of the team, smiling and nervous, doing everything she can to look like she’s not about to combust. She’s too bright. Too eager. Too soft. She sticks out like a drop of gold in a sea of black and steel.

And I can’t stop fucking looking at her. Because I’ve seen her before. I know I have, yet I can’t place it. Everything about her looks familiar; the recognition gnaws at me like a goddamn itch, and I can’t scratch it. The more I try to ignore it, the stronger it pulls at me.

The guys welcome her, loud and teasing, their energy and voices bigger. She laughs, fidgeting with her tablet. She’s good at hiding it, but I see the way her shoulders tense. I see the way she sneaks glances at me, no doubt feeling me watching her. Because I am. I haven’t stopped since she walked in. I don’t think I’ve even blinked. She doesn’t know it, but I’ve already memorized the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous, the curve of her jaw, and the way her pulse ticks in her throat when she catches me staring.

I know she can feel it. And she’s fucking right to feel it. Why can’t I remember who she is? Have I fucked her before? No. There’s no way this girl came anywhere near me and I don’t remember it.

I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, and let my gaze drag down her body. The little lavender set she’s wearing shows off her long, toned legs, and I see a few of the rookies craning their necks to catch a glimpse of her ass.

Animals.

She’s not tiny, probably around 5’6, but next to us? She might as well be 4’2. We’re a team of giants. Built to take hits and to throw them. She’d barely reach my shoulders if I walked up to her.

I don’t register the sound of someone walking up until Damien’s voice cuts through the noise.

“I know that look.” He leans against the wall beside me, arms crossed. He’s relaxed, but his sharp eyes are too knowing.

“What look?” I keep my voice low.

“The one you get when you see something you want to play with before you kill it.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “That poor girl doesn’t know what’s coming to her.”

“I’m not going to touch her.” My jaw twitches.

“Wanna bet on it?” Damien raises a brow. “Because I’m pretty sure I saw the same look on Rowan’s face when he saw Livia for the first time. Though, yours kind of scares me. God knows what you’re doing to the girls when you take them home. I almost called the police one time. I thought someone was getting murdered in there.”

I finally tear my gaze from Irene, turning to face him. He’s smirking, amused as hell. He lives next door, so he’s no stranger to the noises coming from my house when I take a woman home. Though, I haven’t wanted to for a while—until now. And I assure you, no one was getting murdered. Though, Damien might change that if he doesn’t get off my case.

“I’ll make sure the windows are closed next time, then.” I roll my shoulders, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want to disrupt your beauty sleep.”

Damien snorts before shaking his head.

“Rowan and I already made a bet, just so you know.” He gives me a long, slow look.

Great.

“I’ve seen her before.” The words slip out before I can stop them. A murmur, barely audible, but I know Damien’s listening. His gaze sharpens, and he turns to me.

“The new PTA?”

“Mm,” I hum with a nod. “I know I’ve seen that face somewhere before.”

“You sure she’s not someone you fucked during your wild AHL phase?” Damien raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk.

I shake my head, grinding my teeth. It’s a knee-jerk response, even if I asked myself that same question. Truth is, I’ve always been selective with the women I fuck. It’s never been about random hookups, even if that’s what people want to think about me.

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