Evalyn

I really wish I didn’t find Axel’s predatory eyes on me so fucking sexy. He’s looking at me from across the room like he wants to eat me, and judging by the clench between my legs, I apparently want to be eaten.

I’m only sort of aware of Blake’s hand in the small of my back. Almost all of my attention is focused on the enforcer on the other side of the room.

My brain also chooses this moment to point out that my silvery-gray dress is the exact same color as Axel’s eyes. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s one of the few fancy dresses I own, but I’ve also just been thinking about Axel’s eyes…the way they seem to turn silver in the right type of light, or when anger or another strong emotion flashes through them. Just like Lily’s eyes.

That gray-silver color has become one of my favorites over the years. Because of Lily, of course, not because of Axel. Axel simply provided me with a daughter with eyes to love. The daughter he still doesn’t know exists.

Monica lost her shit when she found out Axel was on the team. And then after she lost her shit, she threatened to kill me for keeping this job. She already didn’t like that I took this job in the first place. She said something seemed shady about it. But I’d already quit my old job at the clinic, and I couldn’t say no to the paycheck Blake offered me. It would be enough to pay off my student loans and the tuition at Lily’s school.

After she’d been bullied at her last school, and then been kicked out for throwing a chair at a classmate in retaliation, I had found a private school that would accept six-year-olds with behavior issues. And I’ll be damned if I have to pull her from it for something like tuition costs.

Axel crosses the room toward Blake and me. And judging by the look in Axel’s eyes right now, I probably have about four seconds to get myself away from my boss before punches get thrown and Axel and I both get fired.

After Blake greets Axel, I excuse myself and make my way to the bar to order a white wine. When I turn around, I startle to see Axel standing right behind me. He’s looming, taking up so much space that it’s impossible for me to ignore him.

Well, if I can’t ignore him, maybe I can turn the tables just a little bit. Show him how much I’ve changed, and how little I care how he feels now. I’m no seductress—in fact, the amount of sex I’ve had over the past seven years is, frankly, abysmal. I’ve slept with maybe two or three guys? I can’t even remember the circumstances. That one night with Axel ruined everyone else for me.

He clears his throat. “You’re looking…stunning. Tonight.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “‘Stunning’?” I ask. “Not…‘delicious’?

I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows hard. I take a long, slow sip of wine, then lower my glass and lick my lips very intentionally. I watch Axel’s gaze flick down to my mouth, then back up to my eyes.

Under his heavy gaze, I feel a whole bunch of conflicting feelings rise up inside of me. Love, hate, passion, anger. Desire.

He wants to kiss me. I can tell that he wants to kiss me. And goddammit, I hate myself for it, but I want him to kiss me. I want to tangle my hands into his hair and let him shove me against the bar, pressing his hips into me. I’m suddenly very aware of the bare skin on my back, because every inch of it is longing for Axel’s touch.

Then I watch as something passes over his face. He folds his arms. “So, Evalyn,” he says. He glances across the room at Blake, and then turns back to me. “Is that how you got this job? By fucking the boss?”

My jaw drops. I’m so stunned that for a second, I can’t even think straight. I was just thinking about letting this man kiss me, and then he said something so hateful that only a capital “A” asshole would be capable of it. I try to think of a snappy comeback, but my mind is blank with fury.

“I can’t believe you would ask me that,” I say. Axel’s cold smirk remains unchanged. I would slap him if it wouldn’t cause a scene. But we’re surrounded by the rest of the team, the owner, and investors. Blake can’t be very far away, either.

I take a deep breath. I refuse to let Axel see how much his words bothered me. I fold my arms and glare at him. “I’m no longer your mate,” I sneer. “Why do you care about who I’m fucking?”

Axel blinks at me in shock. I know he could hear the implication in my words, that maybe I am fucking Blake Devoe, and he absolutely doesn’t like the idea of it.

Good. I drain the rest of my wine and hand him my glass. Then I sidestep him and walk away from the bar. Fuck that guy, I think. Seriously. Fuck. That. Guy.

I make my way to the appetizer table, trying to steady my breathing. That stupid Daniel Tiger song comes to mind, and I slowly count to four, trying to keep my rage in check. I’m loading my plate with veggies when a voice next to me says, “Hey, doc, how goes it?”

I look up to see Levi standing nearby. I don’t know him well, but he almost always has a smile on his face. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him without one, including right now. I remember what Kiki told me about him being the “class clown.” I can definitely see it.

“Hey, Levi,” I reply, returning his smile. “You were great in the game tonight.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” he replies. But I know he’s kidding—he’s too sweet to be arrogant. “How do you like extreme hockey so far?” he asks.

I take a moment to formulate my answer. “It’s um…it’s a little violent for my taste, to be honest. But at least it will keep me busy as a doctor.”

I suspect that this is actually true—I doubt the other players are as stubborn as Axel, who stayed in the game even when he was bleeding all over the ice. I glance around the room. The left defenseman, Xavier, is standing by himself near a column, brooding silently. On the other side of the room, Roman is flirting intensely with Kiki. I watch as Kiki throws her head back to laugh at something Roman said, and then touches his arm. There might…actually be something going on there.

Cody, the team sweetheart, catches my eye from across the room and grins at me. I return his friendly wave. I’m about to go find a place to sit down, when the goalie, Preston, sidles up to me. “Damn, Doctor Torres,” he says. “You look way too hot to be a medical professional.”

I try not to wince and give him a weak smile instead. The asshole goalie is constantly attempting to flirt with me, but it’s completely insufferable. I think mostly because it doesn’t seem genuine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he uses the same lines and moves on every girl he meets. He’s too slick, too entitled. Like he truly believes that he could just take whatever he wants with no consequences.

My thoughts are interrupted by the faint sound of a fork tapping on a glass. I turn to see Blake holding a champagne flute aloft. “A toast!” he says. “If you don’t have a drink, grab one fast.”

I reach out to grab a glass from the tray a nearby waiter is holding. Levi does the same next to me. Blake only gives the room a few seconds to grab whatever glass or cup they can get their hands on before he starts speaking again.

“We had a great game tonight!” he says. “It was everything extreme hockey should be—intense, violent, and unapologetic. It’s about time wolves were allowed to meet their full potential on the rink.” The audience cheers, and Blake continues. I wonder if he’s a little drunk already. “This team understands what’s needed to win,” he says. “So here’s to the Blood Moon Bashers dominating the Eclipse Chasers three to one!”

The room erupts into cheers, and I join them. Even though tonight’s game included one (almost) traumatic injury, it was exciting, and I’m glad that we won.

“But tonight,” Blake continues, “I’d especially like to toast one of the stars of our team. Please raise your glasses to our big bad enforcer, Axel Hayworth!”

More cheers, and a few people yell Axel’s name. The crowd parts near the bar to show Axel standing near the bar, looking embarrassed and confused but trying to hide it. I look down at his hands. He’s gripping his glass of bourbon so tightly that he might break it.