Page 23 of Iced Out Mate

This time, it was like showing up at a big Hollywood audition with a headshot hastily printed at CVS, a wispy hope, and a dream.

Plus, I’d be seeing Dyl again. That bit made me more giddy and anxious than the idea of meeting an entire pack.

“So what do I win?” I jokingly asked the group as I got down to help clean up the scattered pieces. Soren and Gabe knelt to help me.

“A chug of your beer,” Emmy said from the couch.

“Cheers.” I grabbed my third beer and took some big chugs, nearly emptying the can. Dylan sat on the loveseat, his arm resting casually on the back of it, his legs crossed underneath him. He wore a slightly oversized black and yellow concert T-shirt from some band I’d never heard of, the sleeves rolled up to show off a tantalizing set of muscular arms.

I can’t believe Soren almost saw us kissing.

I turned my focus back to picking up the pieces, trying not to let my cheeks turn firehouse red. Soren walking up on us like that was just more proof as to why pursuing things with Dyl was a bad idea. Soren was on the team, and he wasn’t like Emmy, who had been a close friend of mine for years. He may not have been as understanding about my feelings toward one of his teammates and pack members. Things could have turned awkward and even possibly hostile if Soren was the type of guy who was uncomfortable around gay or bi men. I’d worked with a lot of those types through my years of being an athletic trainer. It’s why I didn’t really make my sexuality known at work—as depressing as that sounded. It was no issue for my hetero colleagues to talk about dates or partners or hookups, but with me it always felt like I walked on rainbow-colored eggshells.

Clearly Soren wouldn’t have cared too much considering Eli and Gabe were pack members and teammates. But still, I preferred to live a cautious life.

And making out with Dyl behind the house where a party was being hosted was not considered cautious. Neither was checking him out every chance I got—but, alas, I never said I was perfect, as hard as I tried to be.

“Thanks,” I said to the guys as we placed the last pieces in the box. The rest of the group started to migrate toward the kitchen, where Raquel had baked some fresh cookies for us. The smell of melted chocolate chips and sweet cookie dough made my mouth water. I followed the procession into the brightly lit kitchen, Dyl finding his way to my side.

“Having a good time?” he asked me as he leaned against the kitchen counter. The cookies were stacked in a neat tower on a silver platter resting on the kitchen island. Emmy had already inhaled about half of them.

“A great time,” I replied, offering him a genuine smile. He wore a subtle cologne tonight that mixed perfectly with his natural scent. It was an equal mix of spice and sweetness. I fought the urge to lean in and press my nose against his neck, as if I were in my wolf form wanting to bury my snout in his fur. “What are you drinking?” I asked.

“Vodka Sprite. It’s my go-to drink.”

“Really?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A lot of things about you surprise me.”

He cocked his head at that. “Like what?”

Like how attracted I am to you, unlike any sort of attraction I’ve felt with anyone else. “Like your sense of fashion,” I said instead. “You strike me more as a tank top and athletic shorts kind of guy.”

“Wow, just cuz I’m a hockey bro? Way to stereotype.” He gave me a friendly wink. I tried not to admire the way his eyebrow dipped and how his birthmark made him a thousand times more interesting. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“No, I do. I don’t think I could ever pull off your style. My closet has about five neutral-colored shirts, two pairs of jeans, and tons of gym clothes.”

“Well,” he said, looking me up and down. “You’re very handsome in your neutrals and gym shorts.”

“Thanks,” I said, suddenly realizing we were flirting right in earshot of everyone in the kitchen. Thankfully they were all too busy gorging themselves on freshly baked cookies to notice that Dyl was staring at me the way a wolf would stare at a bloody piece of meat. He wanted to devour me.

And I wanted to let him, yet I knew I couldn’t.

“I think I’m going to grab myself another beer.” It was the first thing I could think of to distract from the rising heat that swirled between us.

“Want me to save you a cookie?”

I glanced at the near-empty platter. “I’ll grab one to go,” I said and reached over. I took a bite, the cookie practically melting in my mouth with how soft it was. I closed my eyes and let out a low moan. “Damn, these are great. Maybe I’ll take two.”

“Go for it,” Dyl said. His eyes fell to my lips. He raised his hand and gently pressed a thumb to the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got some chocolate there.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“Got it,” Dylan said and put his finger up to his own lips and licked it clean. “Tasty.”

I could have melted as easily as one of the chocolate chip cookies. I glanced over my shoulder and could have sworn I saw Chris smiling in our direction, but he quickly turned and fell back into an animated conversation with Eli and Gabe.