“She is deaf, you asshole, and she just apologized in sign language,” James signs furiously as his lips move. My body stiffens, scared of where this interaction may go. While I know James is strong and can handle himself, the other guy is larger than him and an alpha. “Do you always talk like a rude caveman to ladies you run into? And yeah, I saidyou, because you could’ve been watching where you were going as well.”
The alpha’s face goes white as he shifts his focus back to me.
“You’re right. I’m so sorry. It’s just as much my fault.” He watches as James signs his response to me. Then, almost as if his instincts suddenly kick in, his eyes drag the length of my body. “Are you okay? Hurt?”
Instead of reading his lips, I focus on what James is signing to me.
I give him the barest of smiles as I sign.It’s okay. I’m fine.James translates for him, and I hand the nachos back to James so I can use both of my hands.I was busy trying to read James’ lips and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. But you shouldn’t be so rude in the future. Accidents happen.My eyes drop to the floor where my popcorn lies. God, I was looking forward to it. The alpha’s eyes track where I’m looking.
“Let me buy you some more popcorn to make up for being an ass,” he offers, the corners of his lips turning up.
I shake my head, because I don’t need him to do that. But James isn’t having it.
“Yeah, it’s the least you can do. Make it an extra-large bucket with salt and butter, and she needs nacho cheese,” he rushes out.
He looks at James, then raises his eyebrows, questioning the order.
I quickly sign.The cheese makes the popcorn better.
“She thinks popcorn dipped in cheese is the best thing ever. I was supposed to find out today if she was right, but some tree trunk thought it would be a good idea to knock her off balance and cause her to spill her food.” My eyes are glued to James’ lips, and I have to cover my mouth because it’s so funny how he’s acting all big and bad.
“Maybe I’ll have to get some to try as well. Wait right here and I’ll be back,” he says before rushing past us toward the concession stand. My eyes stay glued to his ass as he walks away, and when he looks over his shoulder and sees me staring, I can’t help but blush.
James taps me on the arm, getting my attention. “Now that’s an ass to drool over. Nelson might have some competition.” We both laugh, and he nods his head toward the stairs. “Come on, let's go to our seats.”
I gesture in the direction of the hot, rude stranger.
“He can find us in our seats.”
I hold up my hands in confusion before signing.How?
“Oh, trust me, Bayleigh. He’ll find us.”
Not wanting to argue with what he’s saying, I fall in step beside him as we head for our seats. But if he doesn’t find us, James will be making a trip to get me my popcorn.
4
Lincoln
By the timeI reach the concession stand, the noise from the arena feels a mile away. My boots stick a little with every step—spilled soda, melted ice, the usual mess of a stadium. I shift my nachos in my hands, balancing my beer against my hip as I let out a hard breath. The whole scene keeps replaying in my head—the popcorn spill, her wide eyes, the way she’d signed something I didn’t understand.
I thought she was ignoring me. She wasn’t. She couldn’t hear me.
Deaf.
And I’d been an absolute asshole.
I drag a hand down my face, fingers catching on the edge of day-old stubble. Not my finest moment.
The line crawls forward. I pull out my phone to distract myself, switching over to Korbin’s team inbox—the one he lets me monitor because he hates dealing with management crap. I’m not his manager, not officially, just the extra set of eyes he trusts to keep him from missing something important. Oneemail from Allen, the Scorpions’ owner, grabs my attention again. The subject line reads like a bad joke:
Mandatory PR Opportunity–Marilyn Mansfield, Matchmaker
My jaw ticks as I reread it.
Korbin and Milton don’t need a matchmaker; they need a team that gives a damn about them. They need a coach who knows how to fire players up without burning them out. But no, Allen would think that romance fixes everything. Like a few orchestrated pack pairings are going to undo half a season of poor management.
Then my eyes catch the fine print.
