Chapter 11
Bayleigh
I pick up a mozzarella stick and take a bite, wishing for a moment it was Benton’s head. He’s been firmly seated in big-brother protective mode since Lincoln walked away from the table.
The entire time during dinner, all he did was bitch about how James sucked at keeping the fucking enemy from sniffing around his sister. I thought that he’d gotten it all out of his system by the time we pulled into the drive at home. But nope. He hadn’t.
I love my brother, but I wish he’d hurry up and move out. Find his pack and have his own life. That way he’d stop meddling in mine. With him in the picture, I doubt I’ll ever find anyone who wants to bond with me and make me their omega.
As soon as we’re inside the door of the house, he takes hold of my shoulder and turns me toward him. He’s bigger than me by a lot—broad shoulders filling the doorway, light-brown hair mussed, eyes flashing as his grip tightens.
What are you thinking, Bay? You are unbonded, and yet you sit with an alpha. Not just any alpha, but one that’s the brother of the enemy. A fucking Scorpion.
I didn’t know who he was. He was nice, Benton. And he didn’t care that I was deaf. He liked me for me. I tell him angrily as I press my lips firmly together, glaring at him.
Trust me, Bay, it’s an act. Lincoln, the other two, they are nothing but trouble. That whole Scorpion team is nothing but danger for an omega like you.
You mean a deaf, pitiful omega.
My eyes tear, and I take a moment, squeezing them shut to keep the tears from falling, before turning my glare on my brother.
Benton reaches out, pulling me into his embrace, kissing the top of my head as he squeezes me tightly. I can feel the pounding of his heart. He lets go of me and steps back, his fingers moving quickly.
That’s not what I meant. Sweet is what I was trying to say. Bayleigh, you are too sweet for your own good. You’re always looking for the good in people, even when there isn’t any there. I don’t want to see you hurt again.
I’m a big girl, Benton. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and judging people. You, on the other hand, aren’t always so good at doing that. Are you?
He just looks at me, dropping his eyes to the floor for a second. It’s a low blow, but sometimes it’s what it takes to make someone understand.
Should we talk about Amy? How about Christina?
I can name more if you want. Even some of your best friends from school.
Each and every one of them ridiculed me, mocked me.
And when I was younger and did speak, they imitated my voice while they laughed.
These were all your friends, yet you didn’t do well at judging how good or bad they were.
He looks at me with sorrow in his eyes.
I know, and I’ll always be sorry about that. But I’m not wrong here.
I know Benton believes what he’s saying, but I know it’s this shit with Gina that has him biased against Lincoln. And she wasn’t even with him. She was with his brother.
Benton, he just came over to apologize, nothing more. I cross my arms over my chest, standing firm, waiting for his response.
Men like Lincoln, his brother and the fucking Scorpions don’t just apologize. They have an ulterior motive.
I just glare at Benton. He’s pissed, and there’s no way he’s going to see reason.
All I can think about is how Lincoln came to the table, the ease in his body, the way his lips moved when he spoke to me and my brother.
His temper didn’t flare; he stayed calm and collected.
My heart warms as my pulse races, remembering how he looked right at me like I was the only one in the room.
Bayleigh…
I just shake my head. I’m done. Turning, I head straight to my room. I love my brother, but right now I am so pissed at him. You’d think I was a three-year-old child instead of a twenty-one-year-old woman.
I drop down onto my bed, and pull off my jacket, laying it down beside me.
Despite my words with my brother, a smile spreads across my face. I met a man, and he actually liked me. For me.
I’m lying in bed, too wired to fall asleep when I feel my phone vibrate on the bed.
Picking it up, my heart deflates just a little when I see it’s James, not Lincoln.
A small part of me hoped that he would’ve messaged me by now.
It’s been a few hours and doubt seeps in.
Is Benton right? Was he just playing me?
Getting his jollies off fooling the deaf girl into thinking that someone could actually like her?
James: How are you doing? Are you okay?
Me: I’m fine.
I’m not sure that I believe that though.
James: Are you sure? I know Benton was being a little overbearing tonight. You get it though. If it weren’t for all that shit with him and Brooks, I don’t think he’d be as bad as he was.
Me: Maybe. I’m tired. I’m going to head to bed. See you tomorrow.
It’s a lie. I can’t sleep. But I don’t feel like talking about it. Nor do I want to hear James justify Benton acting the way he is. The situation with Gina was three years ago. Both of them should be over her by now and drop this silly feud. And Lincoln wasn’t even with her, so what’s the big deal?
I bring my hand to my mouth, gently chewing on my nail as I think about him.
Lincoln. The spark I felt between us. Surely, he felt that fire, too?
Even now, I can still smell his sandalwood scent lingering in my memory.
He’s not my scent match, so I shouldn’t be able to cling to it like this, but…
I roll onto my side, my hand reaching out for my phone as my fingers draw lazily across the screen.
Should I text him? I mean, it is the twenty-first century.
Women can message men first, ask them out.
But what if he really was just toying with my emotions? Did he know Benton is my brother? Was the whole grandiose moment of replacing my spilled popcorn was just some calculated act to get back at my brother?
I flip back onto my back and let out a groan.
Why is this so hard? Because I’m letting self-doubt seep in.
I’m not the same girl from my childhood or even from college.
I’m a survivor. Despite all the verbal abuse and ridicule thrown at me, I overcame it.
Even the rejection of my scent match, which was the hardest hit of all.
Finally, I sit up and shake off all the nerves and type out a message.
Me: Thanks for the popcorn.
I hesitate before hitting send, staring at the screen, biting my lip as I build the courage to hit the button.
My finger moves before I have a chance to rethink my decision. No turning back now. It’s up to Lincoln if he responds. If he doesn’t, then I’ll know he isn't interested, and I can delete his contact and move on.
I jump when the phone vibrates in my hand and I let out a squeak. He answered! I take a deep breath, needing to remain calm.
Lincoln: You’re welcome. Did you have fun tonight?
Me: I did.
I don’t say it was because of him and his kindness. I don’t want to sound too needy.
Lincoln: Sorry if I caused any trouble with your brother.
My hand goes to my heart, and I want to squeal. He cares about upsetting Benton.
Me: It’s okay. He’ll get over it. He needs to learn he’s my brother, not my father.
Then I get a devilish thought.
Me: He did question me for hours about you. He didn’t let up, and I finally had to walk away. That was ballsy coming over to the table.
Lincoln: I’m glad you survived. I will say I’m glad I went over to the table. My heart was broken when I saw the two of you together. I thought he was your boyfriend, and I was going to have to fight him for you.
I can’t help but laugh.
Me: I barely survived. And can I say, ewww. I might be sick. Boyfriend. Gag, barf. That would make me a shady person, flirting with you and being with someone.
I don’t know what came over me, blatantly telling him I was flirting. Maybe it’s because he’s not in front of me and this is just texting. Or maybe it’s because I’m ready to see where this goes. If he’s truly interested in me.
Lincoln: Well, isn’t it a good thing you’re just his sister?
I let out a squeal as I kick my feet like a schoolgirl.
Me: Too bad he thinks you’re the enemy.
Lincoln: Do you?
Me: No.
Lincoln: Good. Do you go to all your brother’s games?
Me: Pretty much. Benton normally wants me to sit in the family section. But I don’t like it there. The only time I do is when our parents go to the game.
Lincoln: Lucky me that you were sitting where you were then.
Me: Guess so. Seems like your brother and mine can’t be on the same ice without fighting.
Lincoln: Korbin and your brother have history. Not good history. It’s not always Korbin's fault the fights happen.
Lincoln: I’m not sure if you know about it or not.
My fingers still, and my stomach tightens. Of course I know.
Me: I know about their past. About Gina. But it’s also not Benton’s fault either that they fight. Tonight was your brother starting it. Unless we were at a different game.
I will always fight for my brother. Yeah, this rivalry with Lincoln’s brother is ridiculous, but it isn’t just Benton that’s still adding fuel to the fire.
Lincoln: Didn’t mean to stir it up. Just… it’s complicated. He’s my brother.
Me: It always is. And in case you forgot, Benton is my brother.
The whole tone of our text shifts—more tension—but I don’t end the conversation. I don’t want to. I sit there staring at the screen, heart pounding, torn between curiosity and loyalty. Finally, I send one last message.
Me: Goodnight, Lincoln. Maybe we can talk again, Scorpion boy.
He replies instantly.
Lincoln: Night, Bayleigh. Sweet dreams, Kraken girl.