"From what? From living and making my own choices?" Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "You can't ignore every other area of my life, then overcompensate by smothering me with this overprotective display."
"I'm not trying to overcompensate. I'm trying to keep you from ruining your career!" he yells. "You're dating your research subject! Do you understand what that looks like? How it compromises everything you've worked for?"
"I'm not dating anyone!" I retort, even though I was considering dating Declan a few minutes ago.
"Then what was Declan doing here?"
"Giving me a ride home because my car broke down. He was being a decent human being, which is something you can't comprehend."
His jaw tightens. "Stay away from him."
"No."
"Ivy..."
"You don't get to make that call. Not anymore."
He stares at me for a long moment. Then he storms past me, banging the door close.
I rush to my phone and start texting King. We talk about philosophy and my research and his childhood. Nothing about family drama. My anger dissipates as we chat into the night, but I can still feel that gaping hole filled with desire. When we say goodnight to each other, I set the phone down and stare at my reflection in the darkened window.
I have a decision to make.
Tomorrow, I'll be rational and make the smart choice.
But tonight, all I can think about is Declan and the way my body came alive when he was near.
And the terrifying possibility that safe isn't all I want anymore.
12
DECLAN
No More Running
Marcus's fists connect with my jaw before I even see it coming.
The locker room erupts into chaos with players shouting and bodies rushing forward, but all I register is the metallic taste of blood and my best friend's face twisted with rage.
"You son of a bitch!" He grabs my jersey, slamming me against the lockers hard enough to rattle my teeth. "I warned you to stay away from her!"
My hands come up instinctively, catching his wrists, but I don't push back. Don't throw the punch my body is screaming to throw.
Because Ivy would never forgive me.
"Marcus..." I start.
But he's beyond listening.
"What were you doing at her apartment?" He shoves me again, his grip tightening on my jersey. "What were you doing alone with her after everything I said?"
The team circles us. Jake moves forward. Tyler isn't far behind, watching with sharp interest. Connor looks distressed. Even Misha has paused his pre-practice ritual to observe with those unsettling eyes.
"Her car broke down," I say, keeping my voice level despite the adrenaline flooding my system. “I gave her a ride home."
"Bullshit. You don't just give someone a ride home, not you." His dark eyes, Ivy's eyes, burn into mine. "You're using her, like you use everyone else."
The accusation stings deep inside more than the punch did.
