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Magnolia turns her head from him, hinting to me that he’s talkin’ shit that I can’t hear, of course, but it doesn’t stop my petty ass play.
When I hike the ball, my players move forward and so does my girl, knowing exactly where she wants to come and that’s to me. I’m her target, her main point of focus in taking me down because—call me fucking naïve—but she wants to be around me. And it’s definitely a turn within our relationship because she’s running toward me and not away.
Harrison turns to block her, his dark gaze on her curvy frame, and that’s when I wail the ball into his face, shocking the living piss out of him.
Magnolia stops running, turning to see who I threw it to, and when she sees that Harrison is glaring at me with daggers in his eyes, it doesn’t take a brain scientist to know what the hell I just did.
“Don’t start it,” Oakley quickly voices at my side. “She obviously doesn’t want any part of him.”
“But he got a part of her,” I leer through my clenched jaw and that kills me. It seriously bugs the living hell out of me that he got to touch, kiss, and fuck her whenever he wanted, when all along it was supposed to be us and not him. And I’m still not done teaching him a lesson about how pissed I am and the betrayal I felt when he turned his back on me knowing how I felt about Magnolia.
“That’s over,” Oakley says. “It’s over. She’s here with you.”
“I don’t trust that motherfucker.”
Oakley’s hand comes up to the back of my shoulder. “C’mon, man. Don’t do this in front of her. She’s having a good time. She’s flirting with you and shit. Be the bigger man.”
He’s right. Magnolia is having a good time and one fight with Harrison will break that up and make it uncomfortable for her.
So I refrain. It’s his lucky motherfuckin’ day.
With the ball in my hand again, I notice Magnolia out of the corner of my eye and toss the ball off to Adam, one of my players, when she bumps into me from not being able to stop herself quick enough. My eyes—fucking things—draw to Harrison behind her a few yards back and not to her, like where they should go.
He glowers at me, knowing exactly what I did a few plays ago, and he’s aware of exactly what I’m doing.
I’m taking what’s mine.
I’m taking what I want.
And he fucked it up, not that he ever wanted her as much as I did, to begin with.
“He’s not worth it,” Magnolia mutters up to me, drawing my attention back down to her. “Don’t fight.”
“I’m not, baby,” I reply. “But if he touches you, knee him in the balls.”
“Nah,” she vouches softly, rising on her tiptoes. “I’ll punch him in the face.”
My face lifts right before she presses a kiss to the bottom of my chin and saunters off, back to her side of the playing field.
She doesn’t know what she just did. Or maybe she does.
She silently just told Harrison to fuck off and that I’m her primary mark.
And, fuck me, if that doesn’t make me hard all over again.
