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"Where's Hanna?" He asks, wondering what I'm doing here alone.
"Not here."
His eyes question me, but he doesn't. He doesn't want to push, knowing that anywhere Hanna is concerned is a touchy subject for me.
We've been pretty much inseparable since the day she moved into my apartment. Everyone knows that she's off-limits, especially after the Jack incident. Which earned me the bench for the playoff game. We lost. Most of the team is still salty about it, even Hanna. Coach says if I can't control my temper, he doesn't want me. I pick up my drink and swirl it around inside the red solo cup. I wouldn't want me either.
I don't know why anyone would. Hanna is out of her mind. She deserves better.
We sit for a minute on the couch, Logan making all the girls laugh with his stupid ass jokes. The literal worst jokes I've ever heard. I can't tear my mind off of the conversation with my father. He doesn't give a shit about me, which isn't surprising. If he did, he wouldn't have me running drugs. What if I would've been pulled over?
The liquor is making me even more paranoid than I was driving here. I reach over to wrap my arm around Hanna, pulling her close.
"Oh hey, QB1," Her voice is soft in my ear, but unfamiliar and it pulls me straight out of her arms.
Not Hanna.
I pull away at the sound of her voice, realizing quickly that I need to get out of here.
I shuffle quickly to my feet, swaying a little with the sudden movement. Logan stands next to me, "Dude, are you okay? You seem a little worked up."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just gotta go."
I turn straight into Jack, his voice slurred, "Since you're into Barbie's now, does that mean Hanna is available?" He motions toward the blonde on the couch that I mistakenly hugged.
I don't respond, giving him the option to walk away, to save himself. Instead, more ignorance pours out of his mouth, "You know what, I have her number. Thanks, man."
Logan appears in front of me, his hand on my shoulder, "He's not worth it, Jay."
I can sense the warning in his voice, practically hear the coach's voice in the back of my head. My temper always outweighs the fear.
I land a right hook to Jack's jaw. He stumbles backward a little, coming back with a missed swing. I tackle him over the coffee table as everyone goes silent. Both of us crashing to the floor.
An unexpected blow to my brow pulls my attention away from Jack. It allows him to get a solid hit into my ribs from underneath me, sucking all the wind from my lungs.
"Logan, what the fuck, man?" I choke out as Jack comes for me, Logan pulling him away.
"You gotta quit, Jay. You're going to get kicked off the team."
I steady myself, sneering at Jack, who is bleeding profusely.
"She's gonna realize that she doesn't want someone like you. When she does, I'll be here."
I grit my teeth together using every ounce of willpower I have to keep from murdering him, "If you even look at her the wrong way, I'll make sure you never walk again, let alone play football."
The threat lingers in the air for a second as I walk back out to my truck, pulling the door closed and driving home.
Drunk and alone.
