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“I was with my family.”
“Cause obviously he’s not important enough that you actually wanted to be with him! And you’ve never been interested in sports. You’re lying to yourself, Rachael, and I don’t know why.” His face softened, and he reached up to brush my cheek. “You’re only going to get hurt.”
And then, just as loud as my pounding heart, footsteps echoed across the pool house and Ryan appeared. I caught the cold anger etched on his face, the barely restrained emotions, before he took my hand and wedged himself between me and Thomas. “You want something, Brewer?”
Thomas jutted his chin out, despite being a good head shorter and a small person lighter than Ryan. “Yeah, I do.”
Ryan’s arm tensed. It was powerful enough to launch a ball three quarters of the way across a football field. Or to break a man’s face. I tugged on his hand, feeling unnaturally helpless. “Ryan.”
Thomas leveled a look at me even as he took a hasty step back from Ryan. “This is who you want to be? Attached to some jackass?”
“Get out,” Ryan said.
Thomas stiffened his shoulders. “Come on, Rachael. Let’s go.”
Beside me, Ryan froze.
I jerked my chin at the door. “You go on.”
Thomas shook his head stubbornly. “I can’t leave you here. He obviously has anger issues.”
Ryan’s face shut down even more.
My gaze flickered back and forth between the two, and then I dropped Ryan’s hand and hauled Thomas off by the elbow. “Thomas, I can handle this, okay?” I pitched my voice low as we approached the pool house door.
“Rachael...”
“Thomas. I like you. You’re a good friend. But that’s my boyfriend.”
“Your violent, asshole boyfriend.”
I pushed the door wide and gave him a pointed look.
He let out a long sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But, you know, if you’re not back in twenty minutes I’m going to come back for you.”
“Don’t you dare.” I gestured him out. “Oh, and Thomas—if you’re looking for a rebound, I think Sara Milton is, too.”
“Ye of little faith,” he snorted, but I saw the flare of interest and the slight grin as he left.
When I turned back to Ryan, his glacial expression hadn’t changed.
I lifted my chin. “He kissed me. I didn’t kiss him.”
Ryan said nothing.
“I was looking for you. And he followed me. We were talking about you, actually. And then he just—it was totally unexpected.” My words blurred together at the end. Why wouldn’t he say anything?
And then he did. “Okay.”
I stared at him. That was it? Okay? “So—it’s fine?” I hedged. He’d punched Matt Barrett in the face for leering at me.
That wasn’t quite right. He’d punched Matt for winning the game, insulting Ryan’s skill at football and with women, and implying I’d wanted him. Still, if Ryan believed me, why wouldn’t he warm up?
“I don’t care that he kissed you.” I waited for my chest to unfold but it remained tight and tense as his expression. “I want to know if he was right.”
I flipped back through our short conversation. Right about what? Ryan couldn’t possibly think I was using him for his money, could he? The thought made me sick. “What are you talking about?”
“Why haven’t you come to my games?”
