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“Hey,” I say, pulling him away from the crowd before he goes into the locker room. “You trying to say something to me?”
“That depends,” he says. “What do you think I should be saying?”
“Nothing,” I say shortly. “Not where Bex is concerned. She’s not yours, asshole. Hasn’t been in months.”
He shrugs, an infuriating little smile playing on his lips. “Okay, man. Whatever you say.”
I’m not sure what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, but Coach calls me over, and I can’t disobey, so I reluctantly glare at Darryl for a moment before leaving. Something about his smirk isn’t sitting right. If he even so much aslooksat Bex, we’re going to have a problem.
I wipe at my sweaty forehead with a towel as I listen to Coach break down the game so far, working over the plan for the second half. This is an important moment, and I need to be 100% focused. But I can’t help looking over to Darryl from time to time.
He has no reason to try to throw me off my game; we’re on the same side. Unless he hates me that much? But I didn’t steal Bex from him. He lost her all on his own.
I tense when I hear him say Bex’s name, but don’t turn around. Even when I hear the wordkiss.
“Yeah,” he continues. “She’s just as good as I remember. One kiss and she was begging for more.”
I feel my fists curl at my sides. Blood pounds in my ears, but I still hear his next words, clear as fucking day.
“Was always a slut for it. She’s been a little whore with Callahan all semester, but I’m getting her back.”
My whole world narrows to a tiny point, the ugly words echoing in my head.
He kissed her. He fucking kissed her. When? How? And if it’s true, why am I hearing about this from him?
“James?” Coach Gomez says. He clasps my shoulder, a gesture that usually grounds me, but right now, I want to rip his hand away. “You all right, son?”
“Excuse me,” I say tightly. “Give me a second.”
I want to throw Darryl against the bank of lockers and smash his fucking nose into his skull, but somehow, I manage to walk past him, out of the locker room. Bex is standing by the door, right where I saw her when I went in, and I hate how the cute, excited expression on her face dies the moment she sees me.
“James?” she says. “What’s wrong?”
“He kissed you?”
Her silence would be answer enough, but her lip wobbles too, and my veins feel like they’re filled with ice as I realize she’s about to cry. I shut my eyes for a long moment, trying to stop the way my heart is pounding. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Just calm down.”
“Did he do it?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” I interrupt. The anger that’s coursing through me hits a fever pitch as the truth sinks in. “But what? He fucking touched you without your consent because I know no matter how he was bragging about it in there, you didn’t give it. Did he hurt you?”
She turns away. “Let’s not do this now. You still have to play the second half.”
“Fuck the game.” I turn her face so she’s looking at me. I need to see in her eyes that she’s not lying, that she’s okay. That he didn’t do worse than kiss her. She blinks, her eyes spilling over with tears. I pull her into a tight hug, cupping the back of her head with one hand. “Tell me what he did.”
She sobs into my shoulder, a sound that strikes me right between the ribs like a bullet. “I’m sorry, I just—he’s been trying to talk to me, and we met up before the game started, and when I tried to tell him to leave me alone, he kissed me.” She pulls back, looking up as she hugs herself around her middle. Her eyes are wide, and as she swallows down another sob, I realize she’s not just upset, she’s scared. That fuckerscaredher. “That’s it. I’m fine.”
“Like hell you’re fine,” I practically growl. I hug her again, even tighter this time, pressing my face against her hair. She sobs again; I can feel her trembling against me. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fucking fine.”
The second I get Darryl alone, he’s going to wish he never even thought about touching my girl.
“You have to finish the game,” she whispers.
I know she’s right, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her like this. “You’re shaking like a leaf, baby.”
