Beast Behaving Badly
Page 3
The father, a jackal, gave her a disapproving bark.
Blayne turned back around. Once again, shed have to keep reminding herself that only the derby league had a twenty-one and older rule for their bouts. All the other sports, no matter the level of bloodletting, were family friendly. Because your five-year-old pup should always know how to eviscerate a cheetah that had the misfortune of holding your ball or taking your puck.
Popcorn? Gwen asked.
Not looking at her friend, Blayne dug into the bag and took a handful. I hate you, she reminded Gwen.
I know, sweetie. I know.
Bo sat down on the bench, the second string hitting the ice. He tugged off a glove and reached under his helmet to scratch his sweat-soaked hair. After he finished, he pulled his glove back on and studied the ongoing game.
She was here. In this stadium. Sitting in ridiculously expensive seats with that same girl shed been friends with in high school. She hadnt changed much since the first time hed seen herrunning away from him. Screaming. Her reaction had been a bit of a blow to his extremely sensitive ego, but he didnt let it get to him because hed been too busy studying those powerful legs under that Catholic school girl uniform as theyd bolted off. Purr.
Yet even now she looked at him the same way, didnt she? Like shed stumbled between a grizzly sow and her cubs. Funny, most females didnt look at him like that. Then again most predator females were direct and rarely scared off from what they wanted. He always knew that some of them had more interest in his money or the hope they could breed the next big hockey star. Some hoped he was as charming and witty as the rumor millshifter sports didnt have any media covering their every movehad made him out to be over the years. Uh . . . he wasnt. Charming and witty that is. He was definitely direct, curt, and as one ex-girlfriend told him, I used to think you were shy, which is cute. But youre not shy. Youre just an introvert who doesnt really like other human beings! And his answer hadnt made her any less unhappy. Yeah, but I told you that up front. He had, too. Bo was all about being direct. He liked direct. Direct cut to the heart of the matter in seconds rather than hours of asking, Are you all right? Only to get back the answer, Im fine. More than one female had left his ass because hed taken their Im fine exactly for what it was, only to find out later that it was code for, Im unhappy and its all your fault but you should know that without me telling you!
So, after several years of that constant bullshit, hed been on his own. He liked it that way and had had every intention of keeping that his status quo until the day he died. Then hed done that thing he did every couple of years when he got an itch that could only be scratched in one way. Hed called his agent,Bernie Lawman, of the Lawman Clansay what you will about hyenas eating their young, they made phenomenal agentsand said what he always said to the man during these calls over the years, Im bored. In less than three days, Bernie came back to Bo with offers from nearly every major hockey team in the American league, Russian league, and Asian league. The only team that pointedly refused to make an offer was the Alaskan Bears and that was because they didnt have to offer anyone anything. The entire team was made up of bears with two foxes as their centers. Just surviving a game against them was considered a win. But for Bo that was a little too easy. An entire team of bears was not exactly a challenge unless he was playing against them. And Bo needed challenges because when he got bored, he moved on.
Every offer involved a several-million-dollar signing bonus and perks that full-human sports stars could only dream of. His own seal farm was still his favorite, and hed debated long and hard on that one. The deals were all fabulous, and hed narrowed it down to the Hawaiian teamcomplete with his own untouched territory in the Antarctic during his off season, so he wouldnt have to sit around melting in the Hawaiian weatherand the Utah teamseal farm! While he debated, his agent had called.
Didnt you say you wanted to go to New York to stop at that used bookstore?
Yeah. Figured Id go next week sometime. Why?
Wanna go for free?
Sure. Why not? Plus Bernie got to go and see his New York family on someone elses dime. That someone else turning out to be Ulrich Van Holtz. Round-trip flights on a private jetalthough nothing beat the entertainment value of watching the horror of a full-human flight staff when they saw Bo heading their way with a suitcaseand one dinner meeting with Van Holtz at one of his family-owned and -managed restaurants.
Bo had played against the Carnivores before. They were . . . okay. They definitely werent the worst, but they werent exactly taking anyone by storm. Van Holtz, who had a financial stake in the team, was also the goalie. And the offer was, again, okay, but when Van Holtz excused himself to check on the meal, Bernie had crossed his eyes and ordered more bread from a passing waitress. The fact he wasnt even discussing what theyd already heard with Bo meant Bernie wasnt taking the offer even a little seriously. To be honest, neither was Bo. But the surf and turfmoose and walrus blubber in a delightful peppercorn saucewas killer and Ulrich Van Holtz more interesting than Bo would have thought.
As the dinner wound down, Bo excused himself for the bathroom and cut through the restaurant. The place was big and extremely busy. When he found a waiting line at one bathroom, he went off in search of another. He found it, used it, and was heading back up the stairs when he heard someone singing . . . badly.
Blayne turned back around. Once again, shed have to keep reminding herself that only the derby league had a twenty-one and older rule for their bouts. All the other sports, no matter the level of bloodletting, were family friendly. Because your five-year-old pup should always know how to eviscerate a cheetah that had the misfortune of holding your ball or taking your puck.
Popcorn? Gwen asked.
Not looking at her friend, Blayne dug into the bag and took a handful. I hate you, she reminded Gwen.
I know, sweetie. I know.
Bo sat down on the bench, the second string hitting the ice. He tugged off a glove and reached under his helmet to scratch his sweat-soaked hair. After he finished, he pulled his glove back on and studied the ongoing game.
She was here. In this stadium. Sitting in ridiculously expensive seats with that same girl shed been friends with in high school. She hadnt changed much since the first time hed seen herrunning away from him. Screaming. Her reaction had been a bit of a blow to his extremely sensitive ego, but he didnt let it get to him because hed been too busy studying those powerful legs under that Catholic school girl uniform as theyd bolted off. Purr.
Yet even now she looked at him the same way, didnt she? Like shed stumbled between a grizzly sow and her cubs. Funny, most females didnt look at him like that. Then again most predator females were direct and rarely scared off from what they wanted. He always knew that some of them had more interest in his money or the hope they could breed the next big hockey star. Some hoped he was as charming and witty as the rumor millshifter sports didnt have any media covering their every movehad made him out to be over the years. Uh . . . he wasnt. Charming and witty that is. He was definitely direct, curt, and as one ex-girlfriend told him, I used to think you were shy, which is cute. But youre not shy. Youre just an introvert who doesnt really like other human beings! And his answer hadnt made her any less unhappy. Yeah, but I told you that up front. He had, too. Bo was all about being direct. He liked direct. Direct cut to the heart of the matter in seconds rather than hours of asking, Are you all right? Only to get back the answer, Im fine. More than one female had left his ass because hed taken their Im fine exactly for what it was, only to find out later that it was code for, Im unhappy and its all your fault but you should know that without me telling you!
So, after several years of that constant bullshit, hed been on his own. He liked it that way and had had every intention of keeping that his status quo until the day he died. Then hed done that thing he did every couple of years when he got an itch that could only be scratched in one way. Hed called his agent,Bernie Lawman, of the Lawman Clansay what you will about hyenas eating their young, they made phenomenal agentsand said what he always said to the man during these calls over the years, Im bored. In less than three days, Bernie came back to Bo with offers from nearly every major hockey team in the American league, Russian league, and Asian league. The only team that pointedly refused to make an offer was the Alaskan Bears and that was because they didnt have to offer anyone anything. The entire team was made up of bears with two foxes as their centers. Just surviving a game against them was considered a win. But for Bo that was a little too easy. An entire team of bears was not exactly a challenge unless he was playing against them. And Bo needed challenges because when he got bored, he moved on.
Every offer involved a several-million-dollar signing bonus and perks that full-human sports stars could only dream of. His own seal farm was still his favorite, and hed debated long and hard on that one. The deals were all fabulous, and hed narrowed it down to the Hawaiian teamcomplete with his own untouched territory in the Antarctic during his off season, so he wouldnt have to sit around melting in the Hawaiian weatherand the Utah teamseal farm! While he debated, his agent had called.
Didnt you say you wanted to go to New York to stop at that used bookstore?
Yeah. Figured Id go next week sometime. Why?
Wanna go for free?
Sure. Why not? Plus Bernie got to go and see his New York family on someone elses dime. That someone else turning out to be Ulrich Van Holtz. Round-trip flights on a private jetalthough nothing beat the entertainment value of watching the horror of a full-human flight staff when they saw Bo heading their way with a suitcaseand one dinner meeting with Van Holtz at one of his family-owned and -managed restaurants.
Bo had played against the Carnivores before. They were . . . okay. They definitely werent the worst, but they werent exactly taking anyone by storm. Van Holtz, who had a financial stake in the team, was also the goalie. And the offer was, again, okay, but when Van Holtz excused himself to check on the meal, Bernie had crossed his eyes and ordered more bread from a passing waitress. The fact he wasnt even discussing what theyd already heard with Bo meant Bernie wasnt taking the offer even a little seriously. To be honest, neither was Bo. But the surf and turfmoose and walrus blubber in a delightful peppercorn saucewas killer and Ulrich Van Holtz more interesting than Bo would have thought.
As the dinner wound down, Bo excused himself for the bathroom and cut through the restaurant. The place was big and extremely busy. When he found a waiting line at one bathroom, he went off in search of another. He found it, used it, and was heading back up the stairs when he heard someone singing . . . badly.
