10
Lincoln
Riptides smells like sweat,beer, and fryer grease; home turf for guys like us. But it’s not our home turf. It’s the Krakens’. But it’ll do to drink away the sting of defeat. Korbin’s in rare form, loud and cocky; holding court while Milton heckles him from the other side of me. I should be relaxed. I should be joining in. But my head’s somewhere else.
Or rather, withsomeoneelse.
That scent hits first—mint and green tea threading through the beer-soaked air. My pulse stumbles. I don’t even have to look to know.
Bayleigh.
She’s tucked into one of the back booths with Lennox.
For a second, I just… stop.
The world narrows to her smile, soft and bright under the dim bar lights. Copper hair, loose and wild, catching the light every time she moves—and when she glances up, her eyes are a clear, striking green that hit harder than the liquor in my hand. She doesn’t look like she belongs here—not in this loud, rowdy mess of a place. She looks too good for it. Too good for all of us.
Korbin elbows me, pulling me back. “Are you seriously eyeing a Kraken groupie right now?”
Milton laughs, glancing around. “No shit. Tell me that’s not what this is.”
“People watching,” I say. The lie falls flat and easy on my tongue.
Korbin snorts. “Yeah, sure. Watching her… again.”
He’s not wrong. I can’t make myself look away.
Lennox leans toward her, says something that makes her laugh, a little rough at the edges. It hits something deep within me. Then she glances up. Our eyes meet across the room, and my stomach does that stupid drop again.
Then fucking Benton looks up too.
That protective alpha glare hits like a body check. A warning without a word.
I lift my beer, casual as hell, like I don’t notice. But I do. Every muscle in me tightens. I’ve never been good at backing down. Still, I know this is dangerous territory—a rival’s female, off-limits, and everything about her screamstrouble.
Big, green-eyed, mint-and-green-tea trouble.
I try to listen to Korbin’s story about the hit he took in the second period, but it all blurs. Every time I laugh, my gaze drifts back to her. She’s not looking anymore, but I can feel it—the pull. Same as at the arena.
Then Lennox wraps his arm around her shoulders, and logic goes right out the window.
Jealousy hits first. Then the sting of reality.
I stare too long anyway. Benton catches it again, straightens like he’s ready to fight right there. Fine. He can glare all he wants. I’m not going over there to fight. I’m going over to make things right.I think.
Or maybe I just need to be next to her again.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m on my feet, weaving through tables. The crowd hums around me—music thumping, voices overlapping—but it all fades when I reach her booth.
Lennox’s stare could burn through steel.
I keep my hands visible, tone easy. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, eyes on Bayleigh. “Just wanted to apologize again—for earlier. Didn’t want you thinking I was an ass.”
James signs fast between us, translating. Bayleigh’s fingers move just as quickly, her eyes flicking from me to Benton.
“She says it’s fine,” James relays, half-grinning. “And… this is her brother. Benton Lennox.”
Her brother.
