“Well, if you tell me to leave. I will.” I tilt my head to the side, really looking at him. His face has softened since the first time I saw him. Sincerity seeps from his pores. He really means it. If I were to tell him no, I believe he’d get up and leave.
The problem is, I like having him close to me, like having his scent wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
I lift my hand, tapping my finger to my chin like I’m thinking about what to do. I’m just messing with him. Curious as to what he’ll do. He must think I’m going to say no, because he picks up his tray from the floor and stands. My hand reaches out on instinct, taking hold of his arm, getting his attention.
He stops, turning his head to me, and I let go of his arm, my hand already missing his touch.
No, please stay. I mean, you did say sorry and replaced my food. But there’s one condition.
He instantly smiles and sits back down.
“What is it?” he asks.
You have to root for the Krakens.
His face goes slack, and his jaw clenches. Ahh, he’s here for the Scorpions. He has a poor choice in a team, but I can’t fault him for that. Maybe he just hasn’t seen a good team play hockey before.
“Sure. Go Krakens.” I can see the pain on his face saying the words.
I’m kidding.I finally sign, letting him off the hook.The real deciding point was your stance on nacho cheese and popcorn.
I reach down, picking up my bucket, taking a kernel of corn from it and dipping it in the cheese before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it from my fingers; instead, he leans over, taking my fingers in his mouth and eats it, his eyes locked on mine as he does.
I have to clench my thighs, already knowing my perfume is leaking off my body. James reaches over, taking my hand in his and pulling it away from Lincoln, giving him a stern look.
He quickly signs to me, and I notice he doesn’t speak. James clearly intends what he says to be for our eyes only.
I know he’s hot, and your omega instincts are clearly taking over. Just remember where we are. You know your brother isn’t just going to let you come to a game without having eyes on you. If he’d seen what just happened, he’d kill Lincoln without a second thought.
Fine, I get it. I’ll behave.I wink at him before turning back to Lincoln and signing directly to him.Sorry, James just had to tell me something private for a minute.
I turn back to James, grinning as I add the next part knowing he won’t translate it.
He farted and wanted to make sure it didn’t smell.
“I just had to remind her about something. But let’s all remember to keep our hands to ourselves.” James glares at me, and I know I need to play nice if I want him to keep translating.
James is right. What I did was stupid. Being here without an alpha or a pack is reckless enough. Benton is always reminding me to wear my blockers when I’m in public so no one can scent me. A packless omega or an omega not being courted is only asking for trouble. I’ve heard the horror stories of the omegas who have gone missing.
The lights dim, signaling the start of the game, and my pulse races. I love watching Benton play the sport he loves. He’s a natural at it. The crowd comes to life as screams and roars erupt.
The Krakens come out on the ice first, with my brother leading them. The number twenty-three stands out in bold numbers on his back along with our last name. They skate around the rink, warming up before heading over to theirbenches. The Scorpions follow after them, doing the same until the starting players are called out on the ice.
I hold my breath as the players for the Krakens and Scorpions skate out onto the ice. Nelson heads to the goal, while Benton and the left wingmen, along with the two defensemen, get in place. Matt, the center, heads to the line at the circle for the faceoff against the Scorpions’ center.
Their helmets dip, and even without seeing, I already know that Benton’s gloves are tightening around his stick. He’s chomping at the bit to get into action.
The centers crouch low, and I know their eyes are locked on the small black disk in the referee’s hand.
I can’t even breathe. Waiting for the puck to drop and the centers to jump into action, each vying for control of the puck.
The referee leans in, arm raised, and drops the puck, causing the crowd to go wild.
Andrew gets control of the puck, passing it over to my brother. He darts past a Scorpion defenseman, shouldering number twenty-one hard enough to send him spinning, and I grin. Benton always sets the tone early. A deep vibration rolls through the seats as the crowd reacts, but my implant cuts out almost instantly, swallowing the sound before I can make sense of it. Noise this loud always overwhelms the processor, leaving everything muted and distant.
Beside me, Lincoln leans forward in his seat, his jaw tight, and lets out a low growl I can feel more than hear. My implant catches a vibration, but not enough to understand anything. I brush it off and keep watching the ice.
A moment later, James nudges my arm and signs,He just called your brother a fucker.
