Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I laughed at that, even though hearing this made me want to jump out of my chair and cheer.
He felt it. He knew it too.
“But,” Eli said, suddenly taking an arrow straight through my joy with a single word, “this whole ceremony thing. That, that’s something I don’t know about. Not yet.”
I nodded. “I can completely understand that.” Without the ceremony, we wouldn’t officially be mates, and the bond wouldn’t seal. Could we continue to date each other without tying our souls together? Sure, but from what I understood, there would always be a yearning for that completeness, and the yearning many times would fester into anger and bitterness.
Not great. But also not something I was going to bring up. I didn’t want to in any way pressure him into this decision, and he’d been through a hell of a lot in these last twenty-four hours. “Let’s take it one step at a time,” I said, reaching over and placing a hand on his. He looked down with a smile. I rubbed his hand under mine. “Let’s finish up breakfast, and then we can take some photos outside. Unless you had other plans today?”
Eli’s hazel-green eyes met mine. He grinned wide enough to cause them to crinkle at the corners. “If I did, then they’d be canceled.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I want you all to myself today.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ready to Blow
ELI
Our head coach, Julian, stood in front of the room, pointing at the video projected on the screen and talking about how weak our defense was last night. The assistant coach sat on the table, nodding and whispering something to the video coach before the video from last night’s game started playing again.
Normally, these team video sessions were helpful in getting me to pick up on mistakes I may not have even realized I was making. On my last team, the coaches were brutal about pointing out each and every little misstep. It trained me to always pay attention because you never knew when the focus was going to shift to you.
“Eli? Hello?” Dylan whispered next to me, nudging me with an elbow.
I looked to see Coach Julian staring me down.
Shit.
“Like I said, we have three guys here below the goal line. Who’s covering the slot, Eli?”
“Sorry, should have been me.”
“Should have.”
My cheeks burned a cherry red. I hated being put on the spot like this, but I also deserved it.
I hadn’t been paying a lick of attention since this video session started this morning. Hell, I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything over these last couple of weeks. Not since finding out that nearly half of the men inside this very room could shift into wolves at will and rip our throats out if they wanted to.
Coach continued the video, shifting his attention to Soren, who had let a puck through his legs and into the goal behind him. Twice.
We sat in a media room with tiered, semicircular seating. It reminded me of a small college classroom. The walls were painted black with baby blue and white stripes, our “Bobcats” name scrawled on the side of the walls. Gabe sat two rows below me. I wasn’t sure if it was part of this whole “fated mates” thing, but even if I closed my eyes, I could still sense pretty much exactly where he was in the room.
Fated mates… what the fuck.
The entire thing sent me for a damned loop. It didn’t make sense, and yet somehow, I understood exactly what was happening.
I was losing my mind.
That obviously had to be what was happening. Because the alternative was that it was all true, and I was really meant to tie my entire future together with a man I’d met a few months ago.
A man who made my heart skip multiple beats just by looking in my direction. A man who was kind and protective and funny. A man who fucked me in a way that made me a trembling, melted mess of a human, begging for more.
No, not a man. A shifter.
My mate?
Gabe stretched his arms over his head before he turned in his seat, stretching his lower back. He looked at me for a brief moment and smiled before turning back to the video.
I swallowed. God, he was so handsome. But also, did anyone else in the room notice? That was another dynamic to this situation that I couldn’t fully wrap my head around. If we really were wrapped up together by fate, then how the hell was it going to work with Gabe still being in the closet?
And his reason—after learning about the secret society of shifters living right underneath my nose—made sense. I understood why he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention his way, but that didn’t mean I was okay with it, either. I didn’t want to be pushed back into the closet with someone. I didn’t want to hide a relationship, especially not with someone who made me feel this good. I wasn’t huge on PDA and didn’t want to blast my social media with an endless stream of corny posts and kissing photos, but goddamn, I at least wanted to be able to hold his hand or rub his back in public without feeling like I was going to expose him and the rest of the shifters, kicking off some kind of ruthless and vicious war.