*Being Published in 2022*
❝You can't deny that you're attracted to me, Nyx. Instead of fighting it, let's see what happens,❞ he grumbled, hands roaming my body. His thumb brushed my bottom lip. ❝Open up for me, baby.❞
...
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I was running late for practice today, courtesy of Professor Martin, who held back the entire class. It wasn't my fault that some students didn't hand in their assignment, yet everybody was punished. It pissed me off because that was such a high school teacher move to pull. I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from voicing my thoughts. If I'd spoken back, then I'd be sent to Dean Waverly's office, which would waste even more time. So I shut up. Listening to Professor Martin speak about the principles of quantum mechanics could be interesting - when I didn't have somewhere to be.
The team was probably halfway through practice by now, and I was still stuck in class. Benson would let it slide, but it was Nyx who'd be up my ass about arriving late. I was still stumped on what exactly her plan was, and I promised myself I'd figure it out. She stayed on my mind throughout the rest of class, until I climbed in my car and drove to the rink. There was only five minutes left of practice. Grabbing my gym bag, I left my car and headed to the entrance.
There wasn't anybody on the ice, and I groaned, knowing that I missed quite a deal of training. Some players were on the benches, ready to leave and joking around. I walked past the locker room, wanting to speak to Benson first and apologise for missing practice. As captain, I needed to set a good example. That meant not missing fucking practice.
"How's the finger?"
I halted when hearing Jasper's voice. He was leaning against the wall, watching as Zeke fidgeted with his taped finger. The two hadn't spotted me, as a corner hid me from their view. I stayed silent, wanting to hear if Zeke was in any pain. In fear of disappointing me, they were never really honest about minor injuries like this. That was Rafe's doing. He expected perfection from every member, although he was heavily flawed.
Zeke laughed to himself, sending Jasper a pinched look as he flexed his right hand. "It's already getting better." The blonde wasn't moist with sweat like Jasper, making me conclude he hadn't joined practice. "Hurt like a bitch at that moment, though. Thought my fucking finger was detached from my hand."
Satisfied that my player was okay, I turned on my heel, continuing my journey to Benson. Jasper snorted. "Can't blame anyone but yourself. Although, I'm surprised it wasn't Beck who broke your damn finger." There was a hint of scolding in his tone, and I stopped again, backtracking. I'd never intentionally hurt my players, and I was ready to make my presence known to question Jasper about what the fuck he was implying.
But Zeke spoke for me, confusion apparent in his words. "What the hell does that mean?"
