Chapter 5

Zane

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A week had passed, but my mind hadn’t. We had a big game tonight. 

The lights spilled across the rink, blades cutting through the ice, the sharp crack of the puck meeting the stick,  usually snapped me into focus.

But not tonight.

I skated around like a dead man, my mind fixed on that night with Eli. Everything kept replaying. The heat that climbed my stomach when his hands went around me—an alien feeling, confusing as hell.

All thanks to my Alexithymia, feelings never lived long, never intense enough for me to care. I didn’t know why this was different.

Why my head was still full of him.

Which was exactly why I didn’t see the damn puck coming. 

It should’ve been an easy catch, something I could’ve caught blind on any other day. Yet, the puck sliced past my stick, making it my fifth miss tonight.

I hissed.

Dempsey, our left winger shouted from across the rink. “Zed! Seriously. Get your head in the game.”

I shook the thoughts off, tracking the puck with my eyes. The puck snapped against my blade. Finally, I pivoted, trying to break through the center.

Then bang. A body slammed into the boards. I gritted, as pain shot through me.

I didn’t usually miss hits like this. I saw them coming, but tonight, it felt like my body had turned against me. 

The coach shouted from his corner. “If we miss the semifinals, I’m going to shove a puck down your throat. Do you hear me?”

My stomach dipped. Not because of the coach’s threat. But because we were behind 4-1.  The team had been dreaming about the final, and I was supposed to make that happen as the captain.

Refocusing, I pushed off the board. The puck was back with me, and I tried moving.

An opponent intercepted me, a grin shining behind his helmet. “I heard the Captain of  Silver Wolves was a beast in the rinks. But I don’t see one tonight.”

“Shut up,” I muttered. “I’m thinking here.”

My mind kept splitting between the puck and Eli. No. It kept drifting from the puck to Eli.

And then the overhead camera shifted, sweeping lazily across the rows. 

Then it paused on him. Eli, sitting with a hoodie pulled up, his hair plopping over his forehead, breath fogging in the cold, his face straight.

Has he ever watched my match?

Instantly I remembered the faces he made that night. Heat pooled in my chest, and in my groin area.

And like an idiot, I just…froze.

Right there on the rink.

As if the ice beneath me had crept up my leg and locked me in place.

It dawned on me that he had probably watched me play like an idiot.

Something jolted through me—hot, enthusiastic.

I neither knew why nor what it was. I only knew it hit hard, and my grip on my stick tightened.

Timing, instincts, everything my body had forgotten rushed back in like someone had flipped a switch.

The puck snapped into motion.  I charged, intercepting it. The puck hit my stick so hard, it vibrated up my arm.

I launched so fast, the wind whistled behind me, the cold air turning hot. Two players lunged at me, but I was faster, I blew past them before they even knew it.

I cut my skate into the ice making a precise arc as I spun, throwing the defender off.  I snapped my stick forward, and the puck launched like a bullet hitting the goal.

The crowd cheered

I remained at it, sliding, dodging, performing stunts I usually won’t.

For a moment, I felt like a male bird performing, but not for the crowd or the goal. 

Adrenaline burned in my veins, and my goals came after goals. 

The buzz sound tore through the rink. Game over.

The crowd erupted, so loud the air trembled.

I stopped, my heart thrashing against my ribs, my breath ripping in and out of me.

My team rushed at me, yelling, shaking, slamming gloves at my back.

My eyes went straight to where Eli was. It was empty.

A void opened in my chest, and I didn’t know why. 

We’d won. Yet the ache in my chest made me feel like I had lost.

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Laughter, clattering of gears to the floor, and all sorts of noise engulfed the locker room.

“Bro, what the hell was that at the end?”

“Saving the theatrics for the last minute.”

“You almost gave us a heart attack.”

My teammates’ remarks came one after the other. 

I peeled off my helmet, shaking out my hair, ignoring the several thumps against my back. 

The coach patted my shoulder. “Good job. For a moment I thought you had forgotten how to skate.”

Immediately he disappeared, I faced my locker and began stripping out of my gear.

Nathan, my omega friend, the only omega on the hockey team who wasn’t supposed to be, but all thanks to his daddy’s contribution.

He leaned against the locker, his brown eyes glinting. “What exactly was going on in your head out there?”

I exhaled slowly. “I took your advice.”

His brows lifted. “Which one of my many terrible advices did you take?”

I tucked my helmet into the locker. “I slept with a man.”

Nathan’s smile faltered, and then appeared again, stiffer this time. “You did. How was it?”

I paused. “I don’t know. It was…different.”

“Different?” He rolled his eyes like he was tired of figuring out my feelings for me. “Okay. Fine. Do you want to do it again?”

“Yes.” 

“What’s his name? Which major?” Nathan kept bombarding me.

“Does it matter?” My brows drew together.

I couldn’t tell him it was Eli. Nathan might not snitch, but his behavior towards Eli might be as good as telling the world I had sex with him.  And everyone knew Eli was a beta. Even a male Alpha having sex with a male omega was still controversial let alone a Beta. 

And my father? He hates the idea of men having sex with men.  If it were to ever reach him, disowning me might be merciful.

Nathan leaned forward. “So was he an Omega? Beta?”

“You know I don’t do omegas,” I said, locking my locker, voice firm.

He snorted with a smile. “Still terrified you’d end up like your brother?”

The heat vanished as quickly as it came. “I can’t afford to repeat his mistake.”

“Relax, because it happened to your brother doesn’t mean it’d happen to you. Omegas are better than Betas. They give the best sex,” Nathan said, “if you ever want to experience it without this fear of yours,  I’m here.”

A low chuckle bubbled out of my throat. Nathan always liked making jokes.

“And what I’m supposed to tell your sister once she finds out, I’m fucking her brother to figure out something.”

“She wouldn’t care. After all, it’s an arranged marriage,” he said, his tone sinking.

I shook my head, pulling on my shirt. “But there’s another problem.”

He rolled onto his side. “Of course there is.”

“I tried sleeping with someone—another guy.” My voice flattened. “It just didn’t feel as good. I couldn’t get an erection.”

Nathan paused. “You need to avoid this guy,” he said, out of nowhere, tone sharp—too sharp. “Drop him. He’s going to be a disaster.”

“Why?” I snapped my eyes to him.

“If you don’t want to end up in a grave like your brother. Drop him” His throat tightened before he exhaled. “Just trust me—let it go.”

I did let it go just like he said.

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Or I thought I did.  Four days later, I found myself sauntering towards the swimming hall, ignoring every bit of Nathan’s advice.

I had to figure out what’s going on with my chest.  And why I couldn’t get an erection if it’s not with him.

Eli had done something to me that night, and he had to fix it.

Immediately I stepped inside,  and some of the swim team members gathered around John, their voices drifting into my ears.

“Would you actually take him with you once you win the competition?”

Another laughed. “John is definitely going to ditch him.”

John’s voice followed. “As long as he keeps painting for me, I’m going to keep him by my side. After—” The rest of his words died on his tongue as his eyes fell on me.

As I stood before him, the air crackled, his teammates' shoulders tightening like they were on a battlefield.

“We need to talk.” I locked eyes with him. “But not here.”

Shooting me a knowing smile, John followed me outside.

Once alone outside, I said. “I want to strike a deal.”

I dove into it, telling him what I wanted. His gaze darkened and his jaw ticked. But when I outlined what he’d benefit, a soft smile formed on his face.

“Are you sure he’s going to accept it, especially with my peculiar taste?”

John didn’t even bother to ask about my peculiar taste. “As long as you do exactly what I told you to do,” he said confidently, typing Eli’s contact into my phone.“Eli, would do anything for me.”

Taking my phone from him, I headed towards the door.

John called out. “I hope you keep up your end of the bargain.”

“As long as your plan works, yeah…Sure,” I replied over my shoulder.

Leaving the swimming area, I texted Eli.

I: Hey Cinderella, it’s Zane. We should talk.

My heart thumped as I waited for his response.