But I finally get what I want.
As I round the corner into the bread aisle, juggling the two oranges as a way to surprise Dylan, I halt.
Dante and Harlow are with Dylan.
I straighten my spine as I get closer.
“Hey, Jasalie!” Harlow calls out as I reach them.
“Hi, Harlow.” I nod at her. “Hi, Dante,” I say as I drop the oranges into the cart.
“Hey, girl.” He holds out his hand, almost like he’s making some sort of peace offering.
I don’t want to take it. I think he’s a prick. But I look up at Dylan, and he’s smiling at me.
And so I take Dante’s extended hand. But as soon as I do, Dante squeezes my hand in a way I don’t like, and I wish I hadn’t accepted his obviously false overture.
Dylan frowns and says we need to go. But Dante reaches out to hug him.
“You looked like such a pretty boy in that Football Forever story.” Dante punches Dylan’s arm. “What kind of hair product was that anyway? I think I’m gonna tape a copy of it to your locker and let the media have a field day for the season opener.”
Dylan laughs it off, but Dante keeps going.
“Seriously, man. You haven’t gone Hollywood on me have you? Mr. MVP? ’Cause then I might have to kick your ass.”
“Man, you just don’t know when to let up.” Dylan says this last part with a bare hint of a chuckle.
“So, you’ve come round on Dylan here, huh?” Dante says as he turns on me. “You finally realized you had a good thing going?”
“I always realized that, Dante,” I say.
“Didn’t seem like it to me.” He laughs loudly and elbows Dylan in the side. “Dy-boy, you’d better watch this one. I think she lies.”
“Hey.” Dylan gets up in Dante’s face so fast Harlow jumps. “Keep any crap between us. Jasalie doesn’t lie, has never lied, and none of that is any of your damn business—got it?”
Dante steps back and mumbles an apology in my direction.
But there’s still a woman around he can mess with. And he does.
“Fine, your girl’s off-limits. But mine?” Dante puts his arm around Harlow. “She’s always up for my harmless teasing. Aren’t you, baby?”
Harlow pulls away from Dante’s grasp. “Not now.”
Dante kisses her neck. “What do you mean not now? What’s wrong with a little PDA? Huh?” His hands go to her ass. “Are you telling me to go somewhere else to find what I need?”
“Yes. Because I’m pretty sure you did just that last night.” Harlow’s eyes meet mine, and for the first time I see the shame.
“Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Jasalie, can you talk to my girl? Get her to chill out?”
“Dante.” Dylan’s voice is lethally quiet. “Quit while you’re ahead.”
Apparently Dante doesn’t take his eyes off of me fast enough because Dylan suddenly has him by the shirt. He backs Dante up against the shelving as cans topple off and onto the ground around them.
“I told you to leave Jasalie alone.” Dylan’s expression is so fierce, and under normal conditions, I would find it hot, but now?
Now I hate that he’s fighting with a teammate because of me.
“Dylan!” I unsuccessfully try to force myself in between him and Dante and end up standing next to them and waving my hands in the air. “Please. It’s okay. I’m okay. Let him go.”
