Chapter 15
Milton
Every year the league hosts a big Children’s Charity Day, and players from every team in the league are picked to attend and help out. Even family steps in, lending a hand where it’s needed, allowing us to spend more time on the ice.
Korbin and I were the only players picked from the Scorpions to attend.
Probably because they’re hoping we can prove we’re the only teammates capable of sharing an arena without throwing punches.
We’ve had our share of off-ice brawls—mostly with the Krakens—but this is our shot to show we can keep it clean.
No fights, no drama. Just hockey and cameras.
It’s not a game, and there’s nothing on the line.
I may need to give Korbin a friendly reminder to keep his temper under control.
The event coordinators stagger us around the concourse between tables loaded with freebies for the fans. Not only that, but there are opportunities to buy jerseys, have us sign them or even get a picture. We went an extra step and set up a donation jar.
I look a couple of tables down and see the Krakens have their own setup.
Benton Lennox is front and center, charming the cameras like he always does.
Behind him, I see his sister Bayleigh—small, calm, copper hair pulled loose, with the guy that was sitting at the table with them at Riptides.
If I remember correctly, I think Lincoln said his name was John.
Maybe? Not sure, but I know he’s her interpreter.
“Look at him over there,” Korbin mutters, making sure only I can hear him.
“Yeah, and you’re going to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself today. Save all that anger and pent-up frustration for our next game,” I state coldly as a group of kids, all looking to be around ten years old, come charging at us. They wave their mini hockey sticks in the air in triumph.
“They shouldn’t have set us so close together then.”
I give him a playful punch to his shoulder as the kids come to a stop in front of us.
“Can you sign our sticks?” a dark-haired boy with a missing tooth and a Scorpions jersey with my number on it asks.
“Of course we can, buddy. Do you want this guy’s autograph too?” I ask, nodding my head toward Korbin, whose face is now void of the scowl it had before and is all smiles.
“We sure do.” A blond boy, skinnier than the others, pushes his way forward. “Brooks is my favorite player. I want to be like him one day.”
“See, the kid’s got good taste.” Korbin crouches in front of him, laughter still in his voice as he takes the stick and signs it, the corners of his mouth lifting like he’s actually proud of this one.
“Meh.” I smirk, taking the sticks one at a time and signing them.
The kids are all happy and run off to the Hellbenders’ table, where two of their players lean forward with wide grins, hands already out for high-fives.
Another group surrounds Korbin while he’s taking some pictures with them.My attention is pulled to the right to some kids waiting in line at the Krakens’ table.
My eyes drift to the cutest little brunette girl, maybe eight or nine; I can’t be sure, not having any kids of my own for comparison.
She’s tugging on her mother’s arm as they wait in the line trying to see the Scorpions.
I don't know what takes over me, but I start moving in their direction.
“Hey there, sweetie. Did I hear you wanted to see me?” I bend over, taking hold of her braid and giving it a gentle tug.
“Yes, but my mama said we had to wait,” she scrunches up her face as she glares at the boy beside her, “on my brother.”
“Well, good thing I heard you then. I was getting lonely all by myself. Can we take a picture?”
“Yes,” she squeals as she jumps up and down. Her mother gives me a whispered ‘thank you’.
“Well, let’s go find someone to take our picture. Do you mind if we take your phone with us?”
“Marie. And of course, here you go.” She hands me her phone, and I move a few steps around the line toward the Krakens’ table. Lennox catches sight of me, frowning slightly.
Bayleigh looks up as I stop near them. MInt and green tea surround me, calling to me. Her scent. Soft, subtle and somehow perfect for her. “Do you mind taking a picture of us?” I ask, nodding toward the cutie with me.
The guy with Bayleigh starts signing something.
“Hey there, cutie. I’m James, and I’d love to take your picture. Do you have a camera?”
James. That’s what Lincoln said his name was.
“I have her mom’s camera.” Handing it to James, I crouch down beside the cutie, placing my arm around her shoulder and smile brightly. I notice Bayleigh is watching me, a similar smile on her face.
“Say cheese.” James snaps the picture and hands the phone back to me.
“Thank you, man. Oh wait, do you have a marker I can borrow for a second?”
He signs something to Bayleigh, and she hands me a marker before her hands start moving rapidly.
“Bayleigh said you can borrow it, but you have to give it back. It's her favorite.”
“Well, then I'll move closer to her so she knows I’m not going to steal it. I’m Milton, by the way.” I can’t help but wink as I step over to her.
I sign the girl's stick, and hand it back to her, before returning the marker to Bayleigh.
“Here you go.”
James translates for me, and while it should feel weird, having someone relay everything I say, it doesn’t. Instead, it feels natural.
“This is going to be a long day. I already feel like my hand is about to fall off from all the autographs and handshakes. I’m terrible at signing but great at catching flying pucks,” I joke awkwardly.
Her hands start moving quickly, and James laughs.
“She said you might not want it to fall off, especially since the Scorpions need you. As for the signing, it takes time to learn,” James tells me. My eyebrow raises in confusion. “She can read lips if you speak clearly and where she can see your mouth.”
“Good to know. Well, I need to get this sweetheart back to her mom and return to my table.” I walk away, but as I go, I take another look over my shoulder at her.
An hour later, I’m on the ice while we put on a demonstration for those in attendance.
I decided at the last minute to add a chance for the fans to try their hand at scoring a goal against me.
If I’d known the cockiest teenagers on the face of the planet would be here today, I’d have thought twice about it.
Karma hits me—literally. A teenage boy, sporting a Kraken jersey, fires a puck that ricochets off the post and nails me square in the wrist. Typically, it wouldn’t have bothered me as badly, but today I’m not wearing my pads.
I can hear everyone calling out, asking if I’m okay, and I just wave it off.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, lifting my hand in the air, making a show of moving it around.
When I glance to the left, I see Bayleigh’s already crossing the ice.
She crouches beside me and gently checks my hand for swelling.
Her touch is soft and gentle, her expression matching.
Bayleigh takes my non-injured hand in hers and and a tingle runs up my spine.
I’ve never felt something like this before and I’m afraid if I let go I never will again.
She gives a gentle tug og my hand, urging me forward, leading me off the ice.
I try to resist, but the little firecracker isn’t taking no for an answer.
She guides me over to the benches and rushes to the first aid stand set up just to the right of it, returning with an ice pack in her hand.
She fusses about making sure it’s securely on my wrist. The moment she leans in, her scent hits me—green tea and mint wrapping around me, cool and clean, grounding.
James steps up beside us, taking off his jacket and placing it under my hand to elevate it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Benton across the rink, jaw tight, watching our every move. James notices too and snickers quietly. “You’re gonna get her in trouble,” he teases, voice low.
I can’t help but smirk, though I’m suddenly hyperaware of those Lennox eyes burning holes through me.
While Bayleigh ices my wrist, I take hold of her chin, tilting her head up so she can see me talk. “Lincoln’s been happy since he met you. He’s always on the phone messaging you with a silly grin on his face.”
Her hands still, as a look of surprise flickers across her face. James starts to translate, but she shakes her head—she caught every word of what I said. A small, proud smile tugs at her lips, and I can’t help grinning.
“Guess he’s serious about you,” I say, half-teasing, half-sincere. “I bet he’ll even start learning sign language, just so he can speak to you without someone interpreting. No offense, James.”
She rolls her eyes, cheeks flushing, and keeps tending to my wrist. I let her do it for a little while longer, liking the way her hands feel on my skin.
Eventually, James leads her back over to the Krakens’ table where I see a pissed-off big brother waiting. I give him a wave and head over to Korbin.
“Not you too,” he mumbles.
“What?” I question him.
“Falling for the enemy.”
“Nah, Benton isn’t my type. I like my someone a little softer, with tits and an ass I could take a bite out of.
” Korbin growls at my response, and I decide to let him off the hook.
“She saw the puck hit my wrist and just wanted to make sure I was okay. Besides, it was fun screwing with her brother a little bit.”
What I don’t say is how much I liked her touching me.
Caring for me. Not to mention, the way she smelled.
I also don’t say how nice she was, or that I’m starting to get why Lincoln finds her so appealing.
Korbin needs to get into his thick skull that she’s not her brother and doesn’t have anything to do with the issues that the two of them are still harboring.
“Come on, we have some press pictures to take,” Korbin mutters, his voice a little less growly now.
I give him a nod, and we head over to the photographers. It’s time to make the Scorpions sound like an amazing team. Which they aren’t. I just hope they don’t start talking about the rumors of the stupid matchmaker.
It’s about an hour later, and the event is finally winding down. I’m exhausted, and my wrist is killing me. I’m able to move it, so it’s not broken, just tender. But I now have a very clear reminder that at the next event, if there are any interactive events on the ice, I’m wearing my full gear.
As we are packing up, Benton approaches me just as I’m heading to the back of the rink after dropping off the empty boxes by the trash. I watch him heading my way, and honestly, I expected him to approach me way before now.
“Hey, Grady,” he calls out, and I stop as he steps in front of me.
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you?” He’s polite at first, but his tone turns sharp fast. Before I can answer him, he holds my gaze steady.
“Stay away from my sister. She’s been through enough.
She doesn’t need some Scorpion fuckboys playing her because she’s nice—just to get bored when her disability isn’t new and interesting anymore. ”
I get it. Honestly, I do. There’s a lot of people who would probably do that to her; some of them probably even on this team.
Just for the thrill of bragging rights because of the fact she’s Benton’s sister.
But that’s not Lincoln, and it definitely isn’t me.
While it’s no secret that Lincoln has slept around, he’s never used anyone or been cruel.
It’s just not in his nature. Every woman he’s been with knows there’s no future with him, so they don’t expect one.
This isn’t the time to get into a fight with the guy, though. Not with all the press still hanging around. So instead, I nod in response, my jaw tight, swallowing whatever instinctual defense rises up as I walk away.
Benton doesn’t get a chance to say any more. I don’t suspect he was planning to, either, since he doesn’t try to stop me.
“Ready to get out of here?” Korbin asks when I get back to the table and notice he already has the remaining items packed up. Thankfully, there’s only one box, and he carries it, my throbbing wrist already thanking him.
“Yeah, let’s go. I’m ready to eat and relax.”
“How’s the wrist?”
I glance over as we pass the table the Krakens had set up, and see Benton talking to his sister. She glances over at me and smiles, and I give her one back.
“It hurts, but it’ll be okay."
Now I understand why Lincoln can’t stay away.
Why Bayleigh’s worth every bit of trouble that’s coming.