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“Cassian told me you had a bratty side, but I didn’t believe him,” Damon snorts. “I approve, for the record.”
It’s my turn to giggle. “That’s because you’re a brat!”
His megawatt smile somehow gets even more dazzling. “Only all the time.”
I’m not sure how he does it, but this alpha always knows exactly what to do to stop my anxiety dead in its tracks. I often find myself laughing with him, unable to remember what I was even worrying about minutes before.
But, this time, the thing I’m worried about is sort of strapped to my ankles.
“I don’t know how to skate,” I whisper. It’s something I haven’t told any of them because I assumed they would be disappointed.
But Damon keeps smiling as he stands, dusting his hands off and moving to tug off his own shoes. “I figured you needed a tutor, sweetness. This is me volunteering. Insisting, actually. Because once we start popping out babies, I’m signing them alllllll up for hockey.”
Babies?!
Um.
UMMMM.
When I blink in dismay, his grin takes on a wry edge. “Too soon?”
I nod.
He shrugs his stacked shoulders, unbothered. “Inevitable, right?”
If he wasn’t currently blowing my mind in a whole different manner, I might be mind-blown at the way he can somehow put skates on while standing up. In forty seconds flat.
“I mean,” he continues, bending down to flatten his hands on either side of my thighs. Until his perfect face is looming right in front of mine, aqua eyes snapping with electricity. “I’m your alpha, right?”
A dizzy thrill streaks through me. “Y-yes?”
“Mm,” he says, smirking. His hands find mine, pulling me up to my feet as he straightens himself out. “And you want a family, right?”
We’re moving. Walking toward the empty ice rink. Or, rather, he’s walking, backward, and I’m sort of gracelessly stumbling while he holds most of my weight on his forearms.
“Right,” I squeak, my eyes darting to the ice that’s only a few feet away now. “Damon, are we allowed to be here? What if—what?—”
He stops on a dime, letting my body tumble right into his. Even balanced on skates, he catches me easily and pulls me right up into his arms. My legs cling to his waist, the skates accidentally knocking his backside.
He doesn’t mind. Not even when I wind my arms around his neck and cling to him like a child having their first swimming lesson.
I glare down at the ice. He laughs and kisses my nose. “Goddamn, you’re cute. Though, I do feel like I should be insulted. Don’t you have any faith in me at all?”
As if to prove his point, he glides onto the ice while balancing my weight. Effortless. Smooth as that grin of his.
He skates backward lazily. Almost… indolent. Teasing me, I realize. Showing me just how silly it is to be afraid of skating with the likes of him around.
“And to answer your question,” he murmurs, ducking to put us face-to-face again. “This is the rink the local minor league team uses. They’re on the road this week, so I knew it would be empty. I pay the maintenance crew to let me use it sometimes. When we’re done, I’ll text them and someone will come smooth things over. No one will ever know we were here.”
I turn my head, looking around. The rink really isn’t small. It’s a huge warehouse-type room. Almost a miniature of the arena the Timberwolves use, without all the fancy bells and whistles like the enormous Jumbotron or the panels of screens along the walls.
This place is simple. Almost cozy, despite the size and the endless rows of empty bleachers.
“It reminds me of what I thought high school would be like,” I breathe. “This is how it always looked on TV.”
Damon nuzzles his face into mine. The gesture is comforting. He must know that omegas without guardians don’t get to go to school. “I would have had the biggest crush on you, pretty girl.”
I bite my lip, imagining him back then. He must have been uber-popular. Fun and athletic and gorgeous, with that scoundrel’s grin to boot. “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”
