Page 35 of Their Obsession

“Fuck you,svoloch!” he yells back towards Miller as the door to the box slams.

This is going to be one hell of a game. I just hope I survive until the end.

TWENTY

Lilly

This game has been exhausting to watch. My heart has nearly given out at least half a dozen times watching them attempt to kill each other. Noah has been holding his own out there, but something has shifted in the team’s dynamics. Sure, I might be more aware due to my profession and having it be my literal job to watch their team dynamics, but even an outsider would be able to notice that something has changed amongst the players. The amount of penalty minutes in this game is outrageous. But it’s not just because the Wolves are known to be a dirty team. We’re being aggressive, way more aggressive than we usually are. That’s what Coach Karr wanted though,isn’t it? The majority of the penalty time is due to Dom who keeps beating the crap out of anyone that even comes near our defense. He’s spent nearly as much time in the box this game as he has on the ice. But the rest of the team is following his lead. They’re playing tough. Tougher thanthey have all season. Which is probably why we’re up by one with only two minutes left.

We need this win to secure our spot in the playoffs.

On a deeper level, something about the dynamics of this game is making my insides churn. They’re not just playing more aggressively, it’s as if Dom is almost protective of Noah. But that’d be crazy.Right?I mean, shouldn’t he want Noah out of the picture? Maybe he assumes that after the other night, Noah and I are done? But it’s not like he’s acting smug and satisfied. It’s as if he actually wants to make sure Noah doesn’t get hurt. If this is another one of Dom’s fucked up games, I want nothing to do with it. Noah is a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be dragged into whatever cruel chaos Dmitri Volkkon has in store for him.

Every time I look at Noah my heart hurts. I don’t want to break up with him. The thought of someone else moving in on him—one of these blonde bimbo puck bunnies shoving their fake tits in his face—has me seeing red. My eyes flit to Dom. He’s easy to spot on the ice. Even amongst all the other men, he stands out. His shoulders and head towering over the others. His dark eyes find mine and narrow. His gaze flicks subtly to Noah then back to me, as if he’s keeping an eye on our interactions. I shake my head at him—he needs to focus on the game, not whatever the hell is going on between all of us.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that Dom is back. That he’s here,” Emily angrily whispers in my ear for the millionth time tonight.

I get why she’s upset, but I didn’t know how to tell her. How do you tell your best friend that the boy from your past broke into your apartment and that you responded by sleeping with him? I’d never hear the end of it. Plus, it feels like I’ve been unfaithful to Noah, and that thought has ugly guilt twisting my insides into knots.

“He was just transferred. This is his first game with the team,” I tell her which isn’ttechnicallya lie—more like an omission.

“He won’t stop staring at you and Noah,” she leans in conspiratorially. “Do you think he knows about you two?”

My eyes flick to hers. A sea of blue shimmers in her irises. She looks genuinely worried. There’s no need for her to worry, though. I just need to stay away from both of them. Easier said than done when I work for the team.

“Everything will be fine,” I reassure myself as much as her.

“One minute remaining!” the announcer’s voice booms through the stadium speakers, shaking the building.

The energy is palpable. We’re going to win. We’ve got this.

The Wolves have the puck though, and they’re careening towards our side of the ice. They’re a pack—one mind, one goal. That’s their team motto. It’s not a bad one, if I’m honest. They move as a unit, not as individuals. It’s impressive and impactful.

Their left wing slips past Noah.Shit. He rears back to shoot. He fakes it and slides left, slipping the puck into the bottom corner. The buzzer sounds and the red light flashes.

A few muffled cries of excitement ring out among the collective groans throughout the arena. The crowd looks shell-shocked, as if they can’t believe we let the Wolves tie it up. Noah looks defeated, and I have the urge to wrap him in a hug. It’s not his fault. He needs to know that.

Our coach calls a timeout and they huddle on the bench. Karr’s face is angry and red from yelling. We need this win. If they don’t make it to the playoffs, they might be looking for trades again. Noah’s head is hung as he looks at his hands. He can’t give up. They can’t give up. My gaze clashes with a pair of dark eyes from the bench.

Fuck it.

Standing from my seat, I swiftly make my way through the rows. People glare at me but move their knees to the side tolet me through. I’m careful not to spill any drinks or popcorn resting on the ground. When I’m finally right against the glass behind the bench, I take a deep breath and begin banging. I hit the clear barrier over and over again with my open fist. Coach’s eyes dart up, and when he sees it’s me he turns an angry shade of mauve. Behind him, Karmine smirks at me as if he knows what I’m up to. I flash my friend a grin as I continue to pound on the boards. The players spin to look too, and I glance down the row until I find my calm in the storm. Noah’s sitting towards the side at the end, trying not to smile at my antics.

I fan a warm breath against the glass and draw a heart in it before blowing him a kiss. The change is immediate. Those damn dimples pinch both his cheeks as he smiles wildly. He sits taller, his head held high as I cheer and clap for my team. The other men chuckle and shake their heads, but the mood shift across the bench is apparent.

“Let’s fucking skin some Wolves, boys! Show them that they’re in Storm territory!” I holler with my hands cupped around my mouth.

They grunt and slam the bottoms of their sticks against the ground in agreement. The crowd around me feeds off the energy too. People start standing and stomping. Excitement permeates the air. The players turn back forward and listen to Coach Karr as he lays out a plan. They’re ready. Ready to win.

All except one. Dom’s eyes are still on me. His heated gaze burns into me despite the squinting of his eyes as he tries his best to assess me. I give him a slight nod which he returns before the whistle sounds and he hops the boards onto the ice.

“That was bold,” Emily states as I take my seat again. “Won’t you be in trouble with HR for outing your relationship with a player?”

“He looked defeated,” I shrug my shoulders. “I can’t let the season end like that.”

Emily giggles next to me and throws her hand over my shoulder. “You must really like this guy if you’re willing to risk a write up at work for him.”

She’s not wrong—Idoreally like him. So why can’t I stop my thighs from clenching when I think of someone else? Someone who’s the absolute last person I should ever want to be with again.

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