Beg Me Like You Mean It, Captain

"Or what?" Reid challenged, stepping into my space.

He was so close I could see the slight gold flecks in his grey eyes. My breath hitched.

He was a snob, a brat, and a total nightmare, but he was undeniably the most impressive Alpha I’d ever been near. The pheromones were making my head swim, a thick instinctual demand for me to just back down and let him have his way.

But I couldn’t be beaten.

"Or I’m taking the controller," I said, my voice a little softer than I intended.

Reid let out a huff of a laugh, his gaze dropping to my lips for a split second before snapping back to my eyes. "You think you can take something from me, Captain? You’re a Beta. You don’t have the teeth for it."

He stepped even closer, his chest almost brushing mine. I refused to move. I kept my face calm, even as my insides were screaming at me to reach out and see if his skin felt as warm as it looked.

"Try me," I whispered.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the ambient tone of the game’s menu music. The tension was thick enough to choke on. Reid was looking at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Then, with a bored roll of his eyes, he reached back and slapped the power button on the console.

"Fine," he snapped, shoving past me as he put his hand in his shorts. "I’ll go take a piss. Go to sleep well, Grandma." He disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door just as he did before, and I sighed.

I sank back onto my bed, my legs feeling like jelly. I stared at the closed bathroom door, my heart hammering frantically again.

’That was too close,’ I thought, clutching the edge of my mattress. ’Way too close.’

I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same space with Reid, but I actually had a nice sleep. I listened to his breathing, and just like that, I drifted off.

...

Morning drills had been a marathon of heavy breathing, slamming bodies, and a sheer, suffocating density of cold and pheromones. Usually, the rink was my sanctuary, but today, it was a war zone.

Every time the whistle blew, the air seemed to thicken with the sharp, aggressive scents of nineteen Alphas pushing their limits, and in the center of it all was Reid—a constant, thundering presence that I could feel even with my back turned.

"Hit me the puck, dammit!" Reid hissed as his teammate in the drill missed a pass towards him.

It was a disaster, but in a good way. Since this was my interpretation of bonding.

We were split into opposing colors for the drill. I was trying to keep my head in the game, trying to be the Captain they expected, but my body was screaming.

​At one point, the play broke toward the neutral zone. I had the puck, turning to find a lane, when I felt the air shift. I didn’t even have to look to know it was him. Reid came at me like a freight train, his shoulder catching mine with a sturdy, jarring impact that sent a shockwave straight to my core.

​We slammed into the boards together, the glass rattling with the force of it. For a fraction of a second, the world narrowed down to the two of us.

My face was pressed against the cold plexiglass, and Reid was heavy against my back, his chest heaving. His face was right there, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep, invasive breath of the air near my neck.

​Our eyes locked through the cages of our helmets. His grey gaze was dark, blown wide as he was very competitive. He didn’t pull away immediately and stayed pressed against me for a second too long.

​"Watch your footing, Captain," he hissed, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the scraping of skates around us. "You’re looking a little soft today."

​He pushed off me with a smirk, leaving me breathless and reeling from the sudden spike of his frozen pine pheromones.

I felt like I was vibrating out of my own skin just going through that process. It’s one I am very familiar with, having been among the team and acting as the team captain for quite a while now—one year—but I just can’t get used to it.

No Omega would.

Every time Russo clapped me on the back, every time Miller leaned in to laugh at a joke, every time I had to guide the drill—it was another layer of Alpha pressure pushing against my barriers. My skin felt tight, a dull, feverish heat pooling at the base of my skull.

But it was okay.

I was still standing and wasn’t planning to let these Alphas beat me down with their scent.

By the time the drill was over, we headed to the lodge for breakfast.

Finally, I’m starving.

I could literally see myself salivating. Playing hockey is fun for me, but it takes a toll on me, and I need to eat a lot. It’s probably because I need to make up for the spent metabolism of this fragile body.

No, I’m not fragile. Stop saying that.

The cafeteria was a mess of steam, the clatter of heavy trays, and the loud, post-practice adrenaline of nineteen Alphas who hadn’t quite turned off their competitive edges.

And even if I was hungry and should be as rowdy as they were, I was holding it together.

The blockers in my system were still steady, and as far as the world was concerned, I was just the ’Understanding Captain’ making sure everyone got fed. I moved through the line, nodding to Russo and ignoring Miller’s loud complaints about the lack of bacon, until I reached the end of the serving station.

​To my excitement, there was one extra-large, peppered maple sausage sitting in the warming tray. The last one.

I quickly reached for the tongs, my mind already on the protein I needed to survive the afternoon session, when a sturdy, gloved hand clamped down on the other side of the tray at the exact same time.

I didn’t need to look up to know it was Reid. His scent—that sharp, biting frozen pine—hit me like a wave.

He was still in his base-layer shirt, the fabric stretching over his shoulders, looking every bit the elite athlete he was.

Oh wow, my inner Omega whispered, the traitorous thought unbidden as I took in the way the thin material strained against the thick muscles of his chest and the sharp line of his collarbone. He looked powerful, flexed, and full of a youthful, aggressive energy that made my skin prickle.

​"I believe that’s mine, Evans," Reid drawled, not letting go of the tray, and I snapped back to reality.

​"I was here first, Reid."