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That, and it’s clear Mike’s just waiting for the right moment to light into me. I may as well go on the offensive before he starts his shit.
“I already told Chelsea I’d take her out tomorrow night,” Mike returns without missing a beat.
Oh, shit. He’s going to make me suffer worse than yelling at me. He’s going to twist the knife even more by pretending to be sympathetic. Dammit, why won’t they just leave me alone to my misery? It’s gonna be hard enough to play basketball tonight and pretend that everything’s fine. My teammates count on me to play to the best of my ability. Faking it through four quarters will totally drain me for the night. Sitting at the diner afterwards and watching Alex flirt with random girls just isn’t in the cards for me. It would only be worse if Evie’s working tonight and her new boy toy stops in to whisk her away for a make out session after she gets off work.
As if reading my thoughts, Mike nudges me. “Evie’s off tonight, so it’s cool. We can head there after the game then go back to Alex’s and play some PS3 until we pass out. You can take out all your aggression on Call of Duty.”
“I’m not aggressive.” Whatever else I was going to say shrivels up in my throat as we round the corner to the junior hallway of lockers.
There—directly in my line of sight—is one thing I never in a million years expected to see.
Eddie Hinton presses Evie into her closed locker door, his hands cupping her face and his mouth plastered to hers. Time seems to come to a halt as the scene unfolds before my blinking eyes. His tall, lanky body engulfs her petite frame while he sucks at her face. I might not be a kissing expert, but it doesn’t take a genius to see her mouth is open, and his tongue is slicking through holy territory he clearly doesn’t treat the way he should. It’s as if he’s trying to slobber her into submission to prove to anyone who can see them that she’s his property to be used as he sees fit.
Words float over my head. Hands on my shoulders burn as a pounding like I’ve never felt before starts in my chest and works its way out to my limbs. The throbbing energy seems to emanate from my fingers and my toes until everything in sight beats in time with the thrum in my brain. The very universe and everything in it pulsates with unholy precision as the ground falls away beneath my feet. Sweat beads on my upper lip and trickles down my back from the fury that burns deep in my stomach.
Out-of-body experiences are generally reserved for those who are near death.
Is this what it feels like to die?
“He’s such a fucking exhibitionist,” Alex mutters from somewhere on my left.
That revelation is the final blow that steals the air from my lungs.
He’s putting on a show for everyone to see.
He’s marking my girl as his territory.
And she’s letting him.
Those should be my hands on her smooth skin, my lips worshipping hers, my tongue tangling with hers, my body flush against hers.
She is supposed to be mine.
Just as quickly as time slowed, it goes on fast forward. Students rush around to get to their lockers then homeroom before the bell rings. The voices in my ears sound high-pitched and distorted. Heat fills my lungs as I gasp for the breath that escaped me for precious seconds. Eddie steps away from the only girl I’ve ever wanted—a smug smile on his face—then scurries away like a cockroach that’s finished feasting on today’s menu of caviar that could just as easily be garbage. Like she means nothing more to him than a toy to use for his pleasure, only to be cast aside when he’s satisfied.
I never would have guessed Evie’s the kind of girl who wants to be treated that way. Clearly, I was wrong about her.
I blink again and look down at the blonde standing directly in front of me, a flirty smile on her face. She bats her eyelashes like all the girls do and twirls a lock of hair around her finger. She looks and acts exactly like every other girl who gives me the time of day.
Her body language suggests she’ll go down on me right in the middle of the hallway if I give her the go ahead, and she’ll act like it’s her absolute honor. She hasn’t even spoken yet, but I already know whatever escapes her mouth will be all fake breathy and seductive sounding. Too bad it won’t be anything in the least bit resembling actual conversation.
They’re all the same.
A bunch of horny, immature jersey chasers.
These are the only kinds of girls who want me.
I’m not good enough for the likes of Evie Papageorgiou.
The blonde—who isn’t even trying to hide the fact she’s eyeing my famous package—is clearly waiting for me to speak first, so I may as well get this over with.
“Can I help you with something?”
“You sure can, Rob,” she giggles. “You can help me with anything you want, but I’d be happy with you getting us a big win tonight. Then maybe I can help you with whatever you need. Are you going to the diner after the game?”
“Easy there, Sabrina.” Alex smirks. “Any hotter on the throttle, and you’re gonna burn out the clutch.”
She stares at him with a blank expression, obviously not understanding the allegory. “Um, okay.”
