Page 1 of Never Bet Against A Hockey Player

Chapter

One

Conrad

The first time I saw her, I forgot how to breathe. She was the most beautiful omega I’d ever laid eyes on. She was swaying to music only she could hear as she pushed a mop across the locker room floor. Her earbuds hid her from the world, keeping her blissfully unaware that she’d just brought this alpha to his knees.

Not literally… I’d seen what happens in locker rooms.

I should make more noise or move, but here I was standing in a towel, water dripping down my body, eyes locked on her. She wasn’t just singing a bubbly pop song, no, this girl was playing mop air guitar and pretending to scream along to whatever rock song was playing through her earbuds.

“Hey!” I called out when time stretched on and she didn’t hear me. There was no way I came out of this not looking like a complete creep if I didn’t at least attempt to get her attention. She clearly didn’t do her due diligence to ensure the locker room was empty. My alpha didn’t like that. He was already feeling far too protective of an omega we didn’t know.

It took another minute before she turned to dunk the mop in the bucket and saw me. Her scream was loud enough to echo over the walls and likely through the arena. I flinched and held up my hands, which had my towel falling.

Her eyes widened and took in every inch. Her scream didn’t cut off as I scrambled to put it back in place. It was around my hips before the door opened and a pint-sized blond boy barreled in, cheeks pink from the cold, face terrified but determined, and stumbling around in his skates.

“What are you doing to her?!” he bellowed as he stumbled forward like a foal who just got his legs to work. I stepped back and tried not to laugh at the ridiculous display but knew better than to hold up my hands this time. One stayed firmly on my towel.

“This is our locker room. I was showering and came out to her cleaning. She had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me. I did try,” I said evenly.

The kid looked uncertain, but turned to her. The gorgeous omega’s cheeks were bright pink now and her words stuttered out.

“I… I didn’t realize anyone would be here. I clean at this time every night,” she argued.

“Coach kept me late to go over some drills. There’s at least four new transfers on the team this year,” I explained. “If you both step out I can change and then let you get to work.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. Come on, Gavin,” she groaned, pulling him out which only had him stumbling more.

The smile stayed on my face as I changed quickly and tossed my towel in the bin. She was gorgeous and I was only sorry the disinfectant and distance hadn’t given me a chance to catch her scent.

I slid on my shoes and grabbed my bag before heading out of the locker room, hoping she didn’t go hide. She’d looked mortified as she rushed out.

The sound of hockey blades cutting through the ice greeted me first. I looked out to see her preteen protector skating effortlessly around the rink.

When the locker room door shut with a thud behind me, she turned around. Her cheeks were still stained pink, and she was just as gorgeous as she was when I spotted her earlier.

“Again, I’m so, so sorry,” she started, wringing her hands. The poor omega was flustered which had my protective alpha ready to soothe her. “Please don’t report me to management. I should’ve checked the locker room first. That was my fault. It won’t happen again.”

She started rambling about losing her job. I was horrified that she thought I would put her livelihood at risk over that.

“You’re fine,” I said, reaching out for her and barely stopping myself before making contact.

Even though I didn’t touch her, she flinched away. I held up my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. The last thing I wanted was to startle her, but the action put me so close that her scent hit me like a freight train.

Her eyes went wide with shock as I breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring. My alpha roared in my chest, pushing me forward so hard I had to tense my body to stop him.

She smelled incredible. Brown sugar, cinnamon, and warm, inviting spices. The kind of smell you only get when someone is baking something incredible on a cold day.

“Your scent,” she rasped out, eyes wide. She wasn’t running, so that was a good sign, but something was holding her back.

“We’re definitely scent-matches,” I confirmed.

She studied me and opened her mouth to speak but nothing seemed to come out. The boy on the ice slapped his stick against a puck, the sound making her jump.

“Can I at least know my scent-match’s name?” I went for quiet and charming in hopes it would help.