“He wasn’t interested?” Xavi’s jaw practically drops. “Are we talking about the same Leith Rogowsky I was talking to yesterday afternoon? Because he’s definitely interested.”
“What did he say?” My cheeks flush. “Not that I care.”
“That he can’t wait to see you again.” Xavi clears his throat. “You were all he could talk about, Zoe.”
“Really?” My blush deepens. “Are you okay with that? With me having more than one mate? And possibly being with you both?”
Xavi nods. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t think it over. He just nods. “I never pictured sharing you with another man. But I also never thought I’d be lucky enough to be with you in the first place.”
“I’m the lucky one.” I tell him. “I mean it, Xavi. You’re… everything.”
“So are you.”
We kiss. Softly. Slowly. Until we realize that we’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and a woman rushes by.
“Trixie, for the love of God, get your furry little ass back in here!”
“Is that… a fox cub?” Xavi asks, pointing down the street to the little orange fluffball the woman’s chasing. With a huge purse. Which she holds open in front of her, like she’s going to use it to scoop up the tiny thing.
“It is.” I snort. “And this is why I love Silver Springs.”
I slip my fingers through Xavi’s and we resume our walk. But my mind isn’t on the man next to me, it’s on a certain hockey player who may not have rejected me after all.
“W-what did Leith say?” I’m almost too afraid to ask.
“That you were amazing… which you are. And beautiful… which you are. And fun… which you are. And really good at skating with magic… which I assume you also are.” Xavi laughs. “He got us two tickets to his next game, which is this afternoon.”
“He actually wants to see me? Today?”
Xavi nods. “We were hoping the three of us could go out to O’Malley’s after the game. If that’s all right with you?”
“It is.” I whisper softly as butterflies take flight in my stomach and don’t settle for the rest of the walk to the rink.
When we arrive, almost everyone we run into is there for the game. They’re wearing Blades jerseys, their faces are painted with the team colors, or they’re holding flags. Passing by all the fans only makes me more nervous about seeing Leith, and I’m glad I have Xavi by my side.
The two of us stop by Hot Cider’s snack bar first. To pick up hot cider, yes, but also to interview her about the thefts. Cider’s the only shop owner who we know nothing about, so she’s basically our last hope.
“I unlocked in the morning,” she says, “and noticed right away that a bunch of popcorn was gone.”
“Popcorn?” I frown.
Cider shrugs. “And thirty-seven dollars and twenty-five cents from the register.”
“So food and money.” I frown, leading Xavi back outside. “Does that tell us anything we don’t know?”
“That the thief was hungry?” Xavi asks.
I snort. “You know, that’s exactly what Julian said. Not that it helps. I mean, how do we go about catching a hungry thief?”
“By luring them with food?”
“Yeah, why don’t we just have Amber set up a free buffet and see if anyone shows up.” I shake my head. “Like that will work.”
“Probably not.” Xavi snorts. “Come on. Let’s get to the rink. The game’s about to start.”
Chapter Sixteen
Leith
The Blood Witch remix by Not a Vampire is blasting through the speakers as I skate onto the ice. The crowd is already all keyed up. People are yelling and clapping and cheering, and it’s so fucking loud I can’t hear myself think.
At times like these, I wish I hadn’t gone pro. That I was still out on Yeti Lake playing pick-up hockey with the guys as the ice sung beneath our skates. Except if I’d never gone pro, I wouldn’t have met Wynter. My mate.
It still boggles my mind that my girl is my fated other half. My perfect match. My mate. I knew she was special the moment I saw her, but I wish she’d told me we were so much more. Not that I regret how things played out. If I’d known, I might have gotten her naked on the ice. And my girl deserves so much better than that. Wouldn’t have waited this long to see her again if it weren’t true.
I circle the defensive zone with my team, shooting pucks at the net as we warm up. But my mind isn’t on the game—it’s on Wynter—and I can’t help it when my gaze drifts up into the stands.
I hooked Xavi up with some epic seats, so I know exactly where to find my girl. Our girl. Still trying to wrap my mind around that.
I’m not opposed to sharing in bed. Did it a time or two in school and back when I played with the Meese. But I’ll be sharing Wynter out of it, too. Meals. Dates. Trips. You name it. So Xavi and I need to get along.
I respect that he came to talk to me, man to man. That he wanted us to work things out without stressing our girl. He showed up after practice. Shifted into an ice block just as Coach was wrapping up drills. Seven foot tall and built like a fucking wall. And all I could think about was shifting into ice, on the ice—there’s just something poetic about that. When I pull it off mid-game, the Yellow Jackets won’t see it coming!
I grin when I spot Xavi and my girl. They’re wearing the Blades jerseys I left for them, and she’s snuggled into his side. He’s got his arm around her, and in that moment, I wish I was him. Sitting with my girl instead of out here on the ice.
But Wynter’s only got eyes for one mate right now, and that’s me. And the rest of the world—the other fans, my teammates, the ice—cease to exist. It’s just me and her. Until she bites her lip, and I realize I can’t have her. Not now. Not yet. Not until after the game. And that’s when I shift into a bee.
“Save that for the game, Leithsky,” Dulka—the reindeer shifter—nudges me. Except I’m still a bee, so the nudge sends me head-first into Wilson.
Wilson shifts into a bee, too. No surprise there. He zooms around me. Does a figure eight. Then a backwards loop. And a dodge. Puts my bee control to shame, but he can’t shift into Dulka, or a block of ice, or the Yeti sitting in the stands.
I shift and the Yeti’s friends go wild. They know if I take his form in warm up, I might do it mid-game. And there’s always a chance I might score the game-winning goal while looking like him.
The ice is littered with warm up pucks, and I take the chance to show off for my girl. Shoot one puck, then swap out the Yeti form for my own and keep circling the ice and shooting at the net.
I glance up at the stands to make sure she’s watching, and nearly slam into Rodriguez. Who shrinks me down to a tenth of my size, dodges me, and shoots a puck in the net. This earns her some cheers, but I’m too busy avoiding giants—because everyone looks giant when you’re tiny and the ice vibrates beneath your feet—until Rodriguez takes pity on me and returns me to normal size. And if that’s not a reminder to get my head in the game, I don’t know what is.