Page 95 of Full Body Hit: Part 2
They held onto each other, phone forgotten on the couch cushion.
“Fuck her,” Auston growled. “What the fuck is she even talking about? Most players mate during their careers.”
There was a lump in Chase’s throat. He hadn’t expected his mom to behappy, but after seeing how Auston’s family had reacted, maybe he’d hoped…
Auston unstuck Chase from his chest so he could look fiercely into Chase’s eyes. “We’re gonna prove her wrong.You’regonna prove her wrong, you hear me? Let’s see what she’s saying in five years when you have a Stanley Cup.”
Chase had to chuckle at that. “That’s a bold prediction.”
“No, it’s not. You’re gonna make it—I know you are. And I’m gonna be cheering you on every step of the fucking way.”
Some of the acidity left from Chase’s mom’s words dissolved.
Who was she to say how Chase’s life would turn out?
He was mated to Auston goddamn Mazdaki.
Chase had won the fucking mating lottery, and there was nothing that could take that away from him.
Chase redid one of their nests, Auston sitting in the middle patiently. He was so beautiful—that bulky body, his brown, thick hair and those eyes that seemed to always be aglow. Stubble covered his cheeks, skin a tiny bit darker than usual from the few days in the sun—Auston had been constantly slathering Chase in sunscreen while claiming his own Persian heritage meant he didn’t need as much.
Chase had still made sure to slap some on his face every once in a while as payback, but it was true that Auston hadn’t burned at all.
Chase’s heartbeat slowed at the reminder of their few days away. At the images of the heat—the way Auston had taken care of him, the way Chase had been enough for him.
Chase finished draping the final blanket and climbed in beside Auston in their safe, quiet space.
“You’re right,” Chase said, defiant. “We will.”
He was building a life away from his mom, and he couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel good.
***
Chase hadn’t ever been chirped on the ice for being an Omega—maybe a little during his Junior years, but nothing terrible. He knew there had been a lot of that when people like Orion Young had first come out as Omega, but Chase hadn’t been exposed to that level of antiquated thinking since he’d made it to the big league.
Turned out, having an uncontrollable Omega scent on the ice turned some alphas into fucking idiots. He got simple admonishments such as, “Dude, tone it down,” to sneering whispers like, “The fuck are you advertising, exactly? You know this isn’t porn? You can’t just come out smelling like you want it and get some.”
Chase was stupidly rattled by all of it. He felt naked, soft skin exposed where everybody else had developed hard shells. It was bad enough to be singled out for being an Omega—now he was gaining a reputation as an immature kid who didn’t even have a grasp of his own scent.
It was ridiculous—didn’t people realise it was strange for someone to go from having almost no scent to stinking all the time?
Chase finally snapped after another stupid question from the media after a game.
“Is this a new tactic the Spirits are employing? Omegas projecting their scent to distract the other players?”
No, Chase should say, leaving it there. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Jesus—I have a medical condition, okay? My scent before—it was synthetic. A medication I took when I was younger damaged my endocrine system, and I’ve only just regulated enough to be able to produce pheromones. So unless you have another question about personal health information, let’s move on.”
The interviewer raised his eyebrows, and Chase fought not to hunch his shoulders and hide, the bravado swiftly leaving him.
Was his mom watching? What would she think? What would the team think of him lashing out like that?
Honestly, he was trying to not care as much about what his mom thought, and it turned out he didn’t have to worry about the latter. The guys fist-bumped him as soon as the interview was over, slapping him on the back, as they replayed the answer on their phone.
“Roasted.” Noah laughed.
It turned out that sharing the truth behind why his scent was so out of control was actually a…good thing.
He’d been hiding his condition for so long that he hadn’t thought of the obvious solution of just…telling people what was going on.
