Chapter 124: Sitting arrangements

Kain’s POV

Children?

The word felt incredibly heavy, almost foreign, as it bounced around inside my skull.

I gripped the strap of my duffel bag so tightly the nylon dug into my palm. Just what in the world was his mother asking from him when he was only twenty-one?

I stopped walking in the middle of the corridor, the distant sound of the guys laughing in the locker room fading into a dull hum.

But then, the reality of who Reid actually was crashed back into me. He wasn’t just a regular rookie; he was the only child of his family, the sole heir to a massive corporate empire.

It was only natural that his parents would push him into this. It was exactly like those high-society dramas you see in movies all the time.

I turned away, staring down at the polished floorboards. Still... I was dating Reid now. And looking ahead, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to help him with that lineage problem. Not in the next ten years, at least.

I loved hockey with everything I had, and I liked Reid—hell, I was falling for the brat even harder by the day—but if it ever came down to a point where I had to choose between my career and him... I just might choose—

"Evans," a sharp voice called out, cutting right through my spiral.

I turned my head to see our team manager, Marcus, walking down the hall toward me with a stack of folders under his arm.

"Welcome back to practice, Cap. I’m sure you’ve already heard about the meet-and-greet tomorrow, right?" Marcus asked, pulling a sheet of paper from his file and handing it to me.

I took the page, my eyes scanning the printed seating arrangements. To absolutely no surprise, Reid was scheduled to sit right next to me, positioned to my left, while my right winger, Gerald, was on my right.

"Your promotional pictures have been circulating all over the team accounts since the weekend," Marcus explained, giving me a professional, encouraging smile. "And the fans are already sensing some serious on-ice chemistry between you and the rookie. The front office is hoping to see you two play into that chemistry tomorrow to boost jersey sales."

Wait, hold on.

I nearly panicked, my throat tightening up instantly as my mind flashed back to the skin-to-skin moments, the kitchen counter, the tub, and the adhesive patch currently covering my neck. "What exactly do you mean by they want to see our chemistry?"

Marcus shrugged, completely oblivious to the cold sweat suddenly breaking out across my collarbone. "You know how the public relations department works, Evans. They just want you two interacting. Simple stuff."

And what exactly is simple?

"Share a laugh, hand over a sharpie, look comfortable next to each other for the cameras. It’s basic marketing. The ’Veteran Captain and the Prodigy Rookie’ angle is pure gold for the club’s engagement right now."

​"Right. Marketing," I managed to say, my voice sounding flat even to my own ears.

​"Exactly. Just do what you usually do, Cap. Keep the kid in line, but look good doing it," Marcus said, tapping his folder against his thigh before walking off down the hall, leaving me staring at the seating chart.

​I looked back down at the paper. Kain Evans right next to Reid McCoy.

​My chest felt incredibly tight. It was one thing to navigate our brand-new, chaotic dynamic behind closed doors, but doing it tomorrow? In front of flashing cameras, a crowd of hyperactive fans, and a flock of Omegas who were explicitly coming out to see the team’s handsome new left winger?

​Worse, how the hell was I supposed to casually ’show off our chemistry’ when the mere thought of him sitting that close to me in public made my orchid pheromones want to violently flare up?

If he leaned in too close, or if his frozen pine scent hit me while a camera was rolling, I was going to lose my mind.

​"You’re staring at that paper like it’s a playbook for the finals, Cap."

​A heavy, familiar warmth suddenly materialized at my side. Reid stepped up next to me, his duffel bag slung carelessly over one broad shoulder. His hair was still a little damp from the shower, and the sharp, clean scent of him immediately crowded out the sterile hallway air.

​He leaned over slightly, his grey eyes scanning the paper in my hands before a slow, incredibly wicked smirk crawled onto his face.

​"Oh," Reid murmured, his voice dropping into that low, private register meant only for me. "Look at that. They put me right next to you. Perfect."

"Not perfect. It just means you have the right spot to pester me," I growled, folding the paper with a sharp, definitive snap to hide the seating chart from his smug face.

​Reid let out a low, breathless laugh, his broad shoulder lightly nudging mine as he adjusted the strap of his duffel bag. "You done?"

​"Yeah."

​"Wanna go grab a bite? I’m starving," he said, looking down at me with an easy, casual expectancy.

​Usually, I’d tell him no. Under any normal circumstances, I would rather hit the gym after team drills to burn off the restless energy and maintain my routine.

But today, I hadn’t planned on hitting the extra weights, and honestly, my stomach was still entirely hollow from the previous week’s... activities.

Having breakfast—or brunch, given the time—with him wouldn’t automatically rat out my secret or peg us for a dating couple. It was just two teammates grabbing a meal at their usual cafe. Nothing wrong with that.

​"Sure," I said, keeping my tone clipped and even to mask the sudden leap my pulse did. "Let’s go."

​My response clearly pleased him. The sharp, competitive edge in his grey eyes softened, and a genuine, incredibly bright smile broke across his face—the kind of smile he only ever showed when we were completely alone or when he got exactly what he wanted from me.

​"Great," Reid murmured, already taking the lead toward the exit doors. "I’m driving, Cap."

​I rolled my eyes, trailing a half-step behind him, but as we walked out into the crisp afternoon air, the tight, suffocating anxiety about his family’s expectations and the looming Wednesday meet-and-greet finally began to settle, if only for a little while.