3. Declan

Sittingin front of my stall, unlacing my skates, I wonder if it's possible to put my wolf on ADHD meds. He won't shut up about Miranda being here and being our roommate and how pretty she is and how good she smells, and on and on. It was impossible to pay attention to the drills we were running. I was always a step behind. Eventually, Coach stopped screaming at me because he knew I was a lost cause. I have to focus. I can't risk my position on the team by being distracted by Miranda. I'm counting on the money I'm making from hockey to enable me to buy a horse farm. That's my dream. Even though hockey isn't my lifelong dream, it is something I've committed to. When I make a promise, I keep it, and I've promised my team I will do everything in my power to help us be winners. I can't let my feelings for Miranda interfere with that.

I never planned on being a professional hockey player. Until the Paranormal Hockey League formed and I got picked up to play in this inaugural season, I was trying to decide whether I was going to work for my family's hotel chain or whisky distillery. I didn't want to do either of them but if I was ever going to have enough money to do what I truly want, I had to earn it. My parents are very loving and supportive, but even though our family is incredibly wealthy, my siblings and I are expected to make our own way. There's always a place for us in the family businesses and I'm grateful for the security, but I want more.

Carter and Burke Bedard, our team captain, flank me.

"What the hell was that today, Mac?" Bedard asks. He's not quite as big as me, but sometimes he seems bigger. He's built like a bear and lumbers like one too.

I shrug. I can't bloody well say, my wolf was a wee bit distracted since our fated mate is in the building, and we've known she was ours for at least twenty years. They'll think I'm daft. Maybe I am daft. She doesn't feel the same for me as I do for her. I'm her best friend's big brother. That's it. She didn't come here for me. This is coincidence, not fate. She wasn't looking for me. She's here because her friends are here.

"Stay here," Coach says to someone behind him before entering the room.

Sweeping us with his gaze, he jerks his head and Miranda walks in. She looks exhausted. I mean, she looks beautiful. She always has and always will in my eyes. I want to bundle her up, take her home, and put her to bed. She needs to sleep. In my bed. And never leave.

She smiles uncertainly as she looks around the room and takes in all my teammates. What is she thinking? Other than Bridget Waller, our number one goalie we all call Brick, she's the sole female in a room full of large male shifters. I don't know if she's ever been in a situation like this before. I'm not sensing fear, but I can sense her uncertainty and fatigue.

Coach steps forward. "For those who didn't hear already, this is Randi Quinn, my new assistant. She will handle the travel logistics, communication about practices, PT, appointments, and whatever else we drop in her lap. She is here to work, as are all of you. I know today was a clusterfuck with it being the first practice after the holidays and a new pretty girl around, but get your heads screwed back on and use them. We are here to win hockey games, not play Bigfoot Finds a Bride or The Bachelor." He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish."I watch a lot of wedding and dating shows with my fiancée. Beautiful cakes on The Baking Beaver."

Miranda's pale cheeks turn a pretty pink, but I hate it's from embarrassment.

Coach turns to her. "Randi, anything you want to say?"

She steps forward, clutching her notepad to her chest. Clearing her throat, she looks around at all of us; her gaze lingering on me long enough to get my heart racing, before moving on to Carter and giving him a genuine smile.

"Hello, everyone. I'm excited to be here and to be part of the Devil Birds' organization. My previous job was working in a similar role for a professional rugby team in New Zealand. I went to university in New Jersey. It is nice to be back here. I look forward to working with all of you and will do everything I can to make things run as smoothly as possible. All you need to worry about is winning games. I promise when I'm not suffering from jet lag, I will stand a chance at remembering your names."

That gets a chuckle. Sven Lindholm—Lindy—our young Swedish forward with pale blonde hair, raises his hand.

With a nod and a friendly smile, Miranda looks at him and says, "Yes?"

"Are you a shifter? You don't smell like a shifter. You smell like Mac."

Damn right she smells like me, and no one better forget it. I will scent mark her every day to keep these arseholes away from her. I don't care if they are my friends and teammates.

Her eyes widen.

Brick reaches out to slap Lindy with her blocker. "Lindy, you can't ask people that. It's impolite."

Lindy rubs the back of his head. "What? Mama said to not bring home any non-shifter girls. I need to know these things."

"You're not bringing her home to your mother," I say, barely keeping my wolf from adding a snarl for good measure.

"Um, I'm human," Miranda rushes to say, whether to get rid of Lindy's interest, break up the tension, or simply answer the question. "I hope that won't be a problem."

She casts an uncertain glance at Coach, and he gives her arm a reassuring squeeze. The tiny touch causes my hackles to rise.

Bedard nudges me with his foot. "Dude, you're growling."

A couple of glances and knowing smirks are being thrown my way. Damn it. I don't need this kind of attention. My teammates are good people, but they are competitive shifters. The more apparent my interest in Miranda is, the more they will be sniffing around her. I don't want to have to beat them up for getting too close to my mate, but I will.

"Not a problem at all, Randi," Coach says.

Turning to us and pinning me with a glare, he says, "Get showered and get out of here. Practice is at the same time tomorrow. We'll watch video and then get on the plane for our game against the Spokane Sasquatch the day after tomorrow."

"Randi," Carter calls out. "I'll give you a ride home."

She looks at Coach, who nods. "You're done for the day. You look like you're ready to drop. Get settled at the barn, sleep, and get ready for tomorrow. Daphne has the travel details. She's going with us and will give you the info on what you need to pack. You're shadowing her for a bit to get the lay of the land."

"Okay, thanks," Miranda says before turning to Carter. "I'll be in my office. My bags are with the security guard upstairs."

"We'll get them on the way out. I'll be twenty minutes, tops." Apparently, Carter doesn't remember I drove us here today. I rush through my shower and am dressed first.

"Oh, shit. You'll drive us, Mac, right?" he asks after his shower as he comes back to his stall with a towel around his waist.

"Aye," I say. "Wondering when you'd remember you don't have your wind-up car."

Carter drives a BMW sports car instead of the SUVs and trucks the rest of us prefer. It's like riding in a clown car. I did it once, with my knees around my ears, and will never do it again. If I want to do yoga, I'll go to the class Brick runs in the gym at home. I don't need to ride in a tin can to get twisted into a pretzel.

I rap my knuckles against Miranda's door.

"Come in," she calls.

I open the door and walk in, Carter on my heels.

"Mac is driving us home. I forgot he drove today," he says.

Looking around her office, I furrow my brow.

"Let me know if you want your furniture rearranged," I say.

"Why would she do that? It looks nice in here," Carter says.

"Her view is the shower and there's a door at her back. If she flips her desk, then the wall is at her back and if she looks out that door"—I point out the door to the dining room—"she can see out the window."

Miranda's smile tells me she likes my idea.

"Declan is right, Trev, that's a great setup."

"Okay. Randi, do you want us to do it now?" Trevor asks.

She laughs. "No. It's not a priority. I want to get settled, eat, and collapse. I'm flexible on the order, but I need to at least eat and collapse."

"You slept on your flight, right?" Carter asks.

"No. I don't sleep on planes. I haven't slept in almost forty-eight hours and I'm not sure what day it is."

Carter reaches out his hand and Miranda takes it and rises from her seat behind her desk. I swallow the growl my wolf tries to make.

"Then let's get you home, sweetheart."

Sweetheart? Oh, hell no. He helps her put on her coat and it is a massive feat of willpower not to punch him when he lifts her hair where it's trapped in her coat collar to allow it to fall around her shoulders in a waterfall of black silk. The intimacy in the gesture twists my stomach. Are they in a relationship? Have they been? There's so much about Miranda's life once she left for boarding school and then university that I know nothing about.

I may have been waiting for her but that doesn't mean she's been waiting for me. My poor wolf wants to howl in despair. Me too, wolf, me too.