Page 10 of Major Penalty

I force myself to return to my notes, scanning the players for any signs of injury. But every time I look back up, Ares is there, dominating the rink and slamming into his teammates with playful aggression. I don’t even want to think about what he looks like when he’s playing against actual rivals.

He skates past again, and I feel a rush of heat flood my cheeks. Why am I so drawn to him? This is so unprofessional. I should be looking at all of them.

But just when I think I’ve got a grip, Ares slams into Damien, and they both go down hard, the sound of their bodies hitting the ice echoing through the rink. My stomach drops as I rush to the edge, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You trying to break my bones?” Damien shouts at Ares who gets back up first and hauls Damien back on his feet.

I catch his eye again, and he raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his blue gaze. It’s like he’s saying,“See? I’m fine.”

There’s something thrilling about him. Like a tempest you can’t escape. What would it be like to be caught in that whirlwind?

I step into the hallway, tablet under my arm, fingers flying over my phone as I text Sidney about the weird, tattooed tank of a man distracting me from doing my job. It doesn’t help that she keeps sending me paparazzi shots of him out and about because as good as he looks in his gear, he looks devastating out of it.

ME:You’re not helping me by sending me photos of him, Sid. Please stop.

Just as I hit send, a sudden chill fills the air, and my instincts kick in. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I can feel someone behind me. My pulse quickens, and I slowly turn, craning my neck to look up at the towering figure standing there.

It’s him.

My breath hitches as I take in his intense gaze and the way his presence envelops the space around us. I force a smile, trying to mask the rush of nerves surging through me.

“Oh, hey!” I chirp, my voice a little higher. Has he come to talk to me? He’s been glancing my way throughout their entire practice. What if he wants to—

“You’re in my way, little thing,” he says, his deep voice low and gravelly.

I blink, realizing I’m literally blocking the door to the locker room. I look back up at him, and he raises a brow, his heavy-lidded eyes feeling like a physical touch. He takes a step closer, and I feel the air shift, the dark scent of him sending my heart into overdrive. My stomach flutters as I meet his gaze. There’s an undeniable intensity in the way he looks at me.

Does he always stare people down like that?

“Want to come in and watch?” he drawls, slow and lazy, and I realize I haven’t said anything. I haven’t moved aside, either.

“Uh, no. I…” Heat rises to my cheeks as I stumble for a response. Why does he make me so nervous?

He tilts his head slightly, and for the first time, I see slight amusement in his eyes.

“Sorry,” I mutter and quickly step aside, pressing myself against the wall. But Ares doesn’t move right away. He stands there, towering over me with a look that scares and excites me.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he walks past me, brushing against my arm. The contact sends a bolt of electricity through me, and I struggle to catch my breath. He pauses and looks down at my phone. Instinctively, I follow his gaze to my chat with Sidney, my heart dropping to my stomach from embarrassment. There’s a picture of him, front and center, staring back at me with a heart-eye emoji from Sidney. He looks back at me, his eyes slightly narrowed and a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. I quickly lock my phone and drop it to my side, looking up at him, praying the ground swallows me whole.

“She’s just—I mean, she knows I work here, and…” I shake my head, completely lost for words.Kill me. End it now.“She’s just messing with me.”

“Mm,” is his only response, his deep voice vibrating, as he disappears into the locker room with one last lingering look.

Thanks a lot, Sidney.

Chapter four

~ARES~

The locker room reeks of too much cologne and testosterone. The usual. I toss my shit into my locker, shoulders tight and jaw clenched. The ache in my hip is dull and getting too familiar. I’ve played through much worse. I’m not about to be a burden to the team, sitting on a bench when I can be out there with them.

A little smirk plays on my lips at the memory of Irene’s full cheeks reddening at the photo of me on her phone. What was she telling her friend about me?

“Dinner at my place tonight,” Damien says, breaking me out of my thoughts. He shoves his gloves into his bag. “You in?” “Rowan’s coming, too,” he adds when I don’t answer.

“Yeah,” I grunt, grabbing the tape for my knee. “Sure.”

The rest of the team is loud as fuck—laughing, talking, and running their mouths. Nothing new, except…

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