I miss you,
I fucking miss you with the fire of a thousand suns.
“Good. Good,” I say, afraid she’ll shut down if I tell her what’s really on my mind. “My suspension is up soon, so I’m looking forward to getting back on the field.”
“That’s good,” she says, and I hate that we’re talking like we’re fucking strangers.
The creak of a door interrupts me, and I glance at the bathroom. Sometime in the last couple of minutes, the line disappeared.
I swallow as Tatum follows my gaze. “Wait,” I whisper. I take a step closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume, and all I want to do is drink her in. “At least tell me he’s good to you, Tate,” I say, unable to help myself.
Her eyes darken and she glances away, but not before I see the truth, confirming everything I’ve been worried about in the weeks since I sat with her in Java.
But when she simply nods in reply, something inside me breaks.
I reach out, but she’s already brushing past me, abandoning the bathroom altogether as she heads back tohim, saying, “I should go.”
Chapter 24
TATUM
Ihurry away from the bathrooms, my pulse thundering so hard I can barely breathe, the weight of Brandon’s gaze burning between my shoulder blades. The crowd around the bar is thick, but I shove through it, desperate to escape—to stop myself from spinning around and begging Brandon to take me back to the dorms, out of these heels, out of this night, and tuck me into bed like I’m five again.
The farther I get, the tighter my chest pulls, a vise clamping around my lungs. Is this a heart attack, or just panic dressed up as one?
Then I spot Ethan. His eyes sweep over my face before cutting past me, his easy grin dissolving in an instant. What replaces it is sharp and dangerous, enough to make my stomach plummet.
Because I don’t need to look to know who’s standing behind me.
Brandon.
Before the thought even forms, Ethan’s hand wraps around my wrist, yanking me out of the crowd, out of Brandon’s line of sight.
“Ethan—what are you—” I gasp as his fingers dig harder into my wrist, helpless to yank my arm away from him when he pauses by the double doors that lead outside.
“What the hell was that?” he demands, waving a hand toward in the direction we just abandoned.
“You’re hurting me,” I say through gritted teeth, relieved when he finally releases me.
“Were you talking to him?” he asks, his voice is low and dangerous.
“What? No!” I shake my head, rubbing at my throbbing wrist. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tatum. Why the fuck was he looking at you like that, then?”
“I don’t know!” I raise my hands, then drop them. “Why don’t you go ask him?”
“Don’t get smart with me,” he snaps.
I take a calming breath, trying to get ahead of the situation. “I just—I saw him on my way to the bathroom, that’s all. I didn’t say anything to him, and then I left,” I lie. “He’s probably staring because I ignored him.”
Ethan studies my face, and I force myself to hold his gaze despite the fear bubbling in my chest. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked,” I say, desperate for him to believe me.
His throat bobs, and I can see the minute he believes me, thank god.
“You swear you didn’t talk to him?” he asks.
“I swear,” I whisper, hating myself for the lie but too afraid of the alternative. Because when it comes to Brandon, I’m quickly learning Ethan is a loose cannon.
