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“Try that again and next time I’ll kick your balls into next week,” I threatened, crossing my arms over my chest. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Who taught you to throw a punch like that?” he asked, still rubbing at his throat.
I wasn’t going to let him dance around the reason he’d decided to follow me on my run. “My dads. Now talk.”
“Leith and Artie are going to ask you out and I want you to tell them no.”
Whatever I had thought Enzo had been about to say, it definitely wasn’t that.
I blinked once out of surprise, and then again as I tried to digest the information he’d just presented me with.
Suddenly the shy smiles that the omega had been shooting me as he got off the ice this week made sense.
Despite all of the history with Leith and the fact that I’d just sworn off all men last night, something deep inside of me was pleased that the adorable omega liked me and that Leith didn’t hate me—but the opposite he still liked me enough to talk about asking me out again.
“Why would I do that?”
Enzo’s jaw tightened and he scrubbed a hand over it, scratching at the dark shadow of hair there. “Because you and I both know that you bring nothing but unhappiness to the people around you.”
I reeled back as if he’d been the one to punch me, not the other way around. “You don’t know anything about me. Hell, you’ve only seen me a handful of times.”
Enzo scoffed at that. “I know people like you. I was people like you once upon a time. You cover yourself in past hurts like the quills on a porcupine. Anyone who gets too close is liable to get poked—just like what happened with you and Leith four years ago.”
Ouch, well that hurt like a motherfucker to hear.
Taking a step away from him, I pulled my earbuds back out of my pocket, done with the infuriating alpha’s bullshit for the day. “And I suppose your packmates would be pissed if they knew you were here asking me to do this.”
Enzo flinched, telling me I’d hit the nail on the head.
“Doesn’t matter. My job is to protect them. Even from you.”
I’d met guys like him before. The kind that had a complex about being providers and protectors over what they saw as theirs.
It usually came from a deep sense of not being in control over some aspect of their lives.
But that didn’t mean that he got to push that shit onto me. I had enough of my own issues, I didn’t need to pile Enzo Santoro’s on too—even if I thought he was as cute as he was an asshole.
Rolling my eyes, I put my earbuds back in. “Don’t get your knickers twisted. Dating is against my rules, so your precious packmates are safe from my oh, so dangerous vagina.”
I pointed at him. “Don’t ever follow me like that again and maybe learn how to approach a woman without looking like a serial killer.” Then I turned away from him, pressed play on my music, and turned my feet in the direction of home. My run for the day had been completely ruined.
Chapter twelve
“Up!” Maxim Peterson’s voice cracked over the ice as the puck slid down the center line and we were off after it.
I pushed one of the wingers out of the way as the centers vied for the little black disc. I couldn’t quite place his name, but I was pretty sure his nickname was Breaker.
The kid went down easy enough and I heard one of the coaches shout his name, confirming that I was correct.
I’d been with the Seattle Stallions for a month now. It was a crazy thing to come onto a team that was just coming off of a championship win. They all buzzed with the kind of energy that gave me a contact high.
Every practice—even though we weren’t technically even in the preseason yet—was packed full of drills that left my legs throbbing at the end of each day.
A whistle pierced the air, stopping everyone in their tracks.
“Come on in!” Alexei barked from where he stood with his brother and the rest of the assistant coaches.
When I’d first met with them, I’d been curious about the twin coaches that had taken over the hockey world from seemingly out of nowhere. They’d spent the better part of a decade in a tiny town in Minnesota at a rundown ice rink, after all.
