Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

I t’s early, but I’m ready on the ice with everything but the fox head on. Unfortunately, it’s a liability to have me wear ice skates, but I have on the special shoes they gave me for when I am on the ice. I’m in the stands most of the time for games anyway.

Sloane is lacing up her ice skates on the side, while Max skates around in circles before coming to join me in the center.

“She seems surprised that I’m here,” he whisper hisses.

“Because she is surprised. I don’t have her number. She just told me to meet her here yesterday. We’ll explain it when she gets on the ice.”

Her pretty, red hair trails behind her as she skates on the ice looking like a fucking angel. She’s dressed like she’s going right to work after this with high-waisted black pants and a tight white blouse tucked in.

She tilts her head at Max. “Max?”

“Ethan said I could join you,” he says almost shyly.

Sloane gives him a bright smile and nods her head. “And what is it you need help with?”

Max looks over at me, and I sigh. “We’re trying to overcompensate for his playboy image.”

“I see,” Sloane says, looking Max up and down. “But are you going to stop being a playboy, or are you wanting me to help you lie?” she asks boldly.

Max’s Adam’s apple bobs as he stares down at the very direct Omega.

“No, I don’t want to be like that anymore.”

“Why?” she questions.

“Because it only ever made me feel good for the moment. I want to feel good all the time,” he replies.

Sloane’s gaze doesn’t leave his, and even I look at the lonely Alpha in a new light.

“Okay. Then I’ll help you.”

“You will?”

“There are rules, of course,” Sloane says, her hands firmly on her hips. I gotta say, her standing on ice skates so effortlessly is a turn on I wasn’t expecting. “If I find out you’re lying to me, you’re done.”

Max raises his hands in mock surrender. “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.”

“And what’s in it for you?” Max asks her.

“What do you mean?” she replies.

“Why bother helping us? I’m sure you’re busy enough doing other stuff for the team,” Max says. I stay quiet, but I’m just as eager to know the answer.

She pauses and thinks for a moment before speaking. “If my dad ever asks if I’m here early, you’ll tell him no.”

I whistle and adjust the fox’s head under my arm. “Lying to the coach?” I say. Her defiance of her father makes her even more charming.

“Part of me keeping my job this year was going to a matchmaker, and I don’t plan on doing that. So if I’m here early to help you guys out and it just so happens my parents think I’m at the matchmaker instead, then so be it.”

Max and I just stare at her for a moment, and she huffs out a breath.

“So do we have a deal?”

“I’m in,” I reply immediately.

“I’m in, but if you get caught by your dad, we had no idea about your little matchmaker problem,” Max says, clearly way smarter with terms and conditions than I am.

“Yeah, what he said.”

“Fine,” Sloane says, giving us a once over, and I swear something flashes behind her pretty, green eyes. “I already have a plan for you, Ethan. I’ll have to think about what I’m going to do with you,” Sloane says, looking Max up and down like he’s a problem she has to solve.

“What do you need from me?” I ask her, and she sighs.

“Finnegan the Fox is getting a makeover first and foremost.”

“Don’t we need approval?”

“Already in the works,” she says simply. “I watched you last season, and I went online to see what other mascots are doing. I don’t think you’re fully embracing your personality. You need to be uniquely you while also taking a page from other mascots’ playbooks.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, and Max scoffs next to me.

“Do you know how many people love that fucking freak, Gritty, but hate the Flyers? You gotta be more than just part of the team. You’ve got to be someone everyone can root for,” Max says simply.

Sloane nods her head. “He’s right. While you’re a part of the Foxes, your mascot persona can be something that makes you famous and hard to emulate. Plus, the more popular you get, the more money you can ask for. Make yourself irreplaceable. Show me some moves,” Sloane says.

“Yeah, show us some moves,” Max says, skating over next to Sloane as I put the mascot head on, facing it so it won’t fall off.

It’s dangerous, but I’ve been doing this shit my whole life as I do a couple of flips and land on a split on the ice. I take off the head and look over at Sloane and Max who are both tilting their heads.

“Doesn’t that hurt your dick?” Max asks, and Sloane smacks him on the chest, wincing when her hand hits his padding. “Sorry,” he mumbles to her.

“Where did you learn how to do all that?” she asks.

“Male cheerleader,” I reply sheepishly.

“Huh,” Sloane says, tapping her chin. “I definitely think we can use that, especially when we’re at events, but it’s too dangerous on the ice, and you spend a lot of time in the stands anyway. Finnegan needs a personality.”

“You seem pretty sly in real life,” Max suggests, and I scoff at him.

“He’s not wrong. What if being a prankster and sneaky like a real fox is the angle to go? Maybe we can do a post where it’s like you’re sneaking up on Max. That way, you both can get some publicity. Introducing Finnegan’s personality and making Max more likable?”

“I’m down for anything,” I tell her honestly.

One, I don’t want to lose this side job. It kind of reminds me of being a part of a team, and a few times a week, I get to hide and be this stupid big fox. It also wouldn’t hurt if I could cut back my shifts at the diner either.

“Tell me where you want me.” I tell her, and she smiles, grabbing her phone and placing us on different parts of the ice and telling us what we need to lip-sync and what to do.

She smiles behind the camera, skating backwards at some points and pointing and directing us where we need to go. I actually have a good time, and now and then I glance over at Max and realize he’s having a good time himself.

I just wonder if it’s because we’re doing something productive or because Sloane is making everything so fun and easy.

“Okay, I think we got it,” she says while looking at her phone, her thumbs moving at a rapid speed. “Here, you guys can come watch,” she says.

I walk over cautiously and stand behind her shoulder while Max does the same thing. It’s fucked up, but being this close to them, I should be able to scent them. Obviously, I don’t have an Alpha’s sense of smell, but even with both of them this close, I don’t scent anything, and I wonder if that's normal.

Definitely not for Sloane, the woman was all but flaunting it all last season. I’m guessing her father had more stipulations than the matchmaker for her to keep her job.

Sloane holds the phone, smiling as I watch the little skit she put together of me sneaking up on Max along with the stupid sound she picked. It’s cute and cheesy, but that’s what people want.

“Are you sure I don’t look like a stupid asshole?” Max asks her, making her replay it again.

“No, you look cute, less threatening.”

“I’m not threatening,” he says affronted.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You seem more approachable, easygoing, and it shows that you’re a part of this team.”

“If you’re sure.”

“You said you would trust me. What about you, Ethan?” she asks, and I immediately perk up. I like that she remembers my name and calls me by it. She treats the mascot like it’s a different part of me, and it’s refreshing.

“I trust you completely,” I tell her honestly.

She gives me a smile and looks down at her phone for the time. “We actually got that done a lot quicker than I realized. Do you mind if I skate for a bit?” she asks.

“Knock yourself out,” I tell her, and Max shifts on his skates.

“Mind if I skate with you?” he asks.

“Only if you can keep up,” she says, putting her phone in her pocket and skating off like a bat out of hell.

She doesn’t stand a chance as Max, even as a goalie, is swifter on his skates and has over a foot over her in height. They laugh as they skate together, and there’s a pang in my chest as I watch them.

When was the last time I connected to someone new? I’ve been in my own little bubble for so long. Outside of my foster dad and other foster siblings, I don’t branch out much. Becoming the mascot was supposed to be the outlet and that team comradery I’ve been missing since I left high school years ago, but it isn't what I thought it would be.

That is, until now.

Even though I’m on the sidelines watching them skate, I finally feel a part of something. And for the first time in a long time, I truly start to believe in myself.

Sloane is laughing viciously as Max chases her on the ice, and I just smile at the headstrong red-headed Omega who has faith in me.

“Grab his arm,” she says, and I blink as Max grabs my one arm and Sloane grabs another. It takes me a moment to collect my balance, but as long as I keep my legs locked, I glide over the ice as the two of them push me around.

The cold air smacks my face, and I smile, feeling a part of something, even if it’s small. It’s not the validation of the whole team, and Max is probably even on the outs, but it’s something.

And this something somehow feels like everything. I just don’t know how to explain it.