Please look over here.
Because the universe loves to fuck me over, he turns his head and looks right at me.
His gaze startles, smile falling from his face before his eyes narrow, pinning me to my chair with so much hatred I can taste it.
I can’t move, even if I wanted to. This place could be burning around me, and I’d be trapped beneath his stare. Jordan Mackenzie has that sort of power over me, even after all this time, it seems.
I hold his gaze as he says something to his friends, before he slowly walks across the room—right toward me.
“Mack,” I greet with a nod, taking a sip of my beer and trying to be casual. “Long time no see.”
Mack’s honey brown eyes stoke the fire inside me, making my heartbeat quicken and my stupid cock twitch.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks, his tone just as venomous as I remember. Yet as sharp as it is, there is a smooth edge to his deep, gravelly tone. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
His tone makes me want to drop to my knees, but one of them is more than fucked, so that’s not happening. At this point, I’m not sure I’d be able to get back up and that would be embarrassing because he’d leave me there. Sucking dick in a bar full of people would be the easy part…
There are a hundred things I could say to him right now. A hundred things Ishouldsay. But all I can do is be a smartass. Cover up the bone-deep pain with humor, just like I always do.
“Pissing you off.” I smirk. “My favorite pastime.”
Mack scoffs. “I’d have to give a shit about you for that to happen, Alex. Which,” he growls, his finger tapping the edge of the table as he leans closer. “I don’t.”
One tap. Two taps.
My spine straightens, muscle memory taking over.
His gaze darkens, and he adds, “I don’t give a shit what you do or who you doit with.”
My cock hardens in my pants, and I think coming home was a very,verybad idea. Every bone in my body stiffens, and the monster inside me pushes to the surface.
“Keep telling yourself that, Mackenzie,” I snap, my tone bitter and full of challenge.
I toss some bills on the table and fight to grimace through the pain of standing as I flash him a dark stare of my own. He’s the only person in the world who can make me this angry. Make me feel so goddamn much when I spend so much time shoving all those stupid feelings down.
Mack’ss got a couple inches on me—and everyone else around here. 6’4” is quite taller than the average guy. Not to mention he’s built like a brick house—like a Mack Truck, actually. Football player, and all. Well, ex-football player, I guess.
Pain shoots through my leg as I stand tall, but I refuse to give in and look away first.
“Maybe one day you’ll actually believe that,” I say as I knock into his shoulder with as much strength as I can muster. “Welcome home, Alex,” I say bitterly to myself once I’m in the car, knowing it’s going to be a long fucking recovery.
Part One
Then…
Chapter One
Jordan
I toss a bunch of balled-up T-shirts into my duffel bag as my phone pings from the stupid group chat I’m forced to be part of. No matter how many times I tell these idiots to stop adding me, they do it anyway. Glancing at the bag, I try to recall how many pairs of pants and shorts I put in there, but with all the dinging and vibrating, I can’t remember. I rummage around, digging through the clothes, and see only two, so I look around my floor for anything that looks clean and toss it on top, then break a sweat zipping it up and pray it doesn’t pop open. Whatever is in there will have to do. It’s only a weekend trip to Vegas—I should be fine.
The things I need but can’t pack yet are in a pile in the bathroom—toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and all that. My iPad and headphones are on my nightstandwith my charger. It’ll all go in my backpack in the morning.
Putting my duffel against the wall, I drop onto my bed and scroll through the group chat. There is too much to read, so I browse quickly, hoping to catch anything important. Of course, nothing is important. Just a bunch of guys from the team talking about a party this weekend that they know I won’t be at since I won’t be here.
Take me outta this shit. You know I’m going to Vegas this weekend, assholes.
My phone goes off a few more times, but then it stops.Thank fuck.According to everyone who knows of my impending trip, I’m going to have the time of my life. Guy like me, who makes it known how much I love to party and fuck? Vegas is the place to be. Maybe some of that is true, but something in my gut tells me it’s all going to go to shit, thanks to Alex Brewer coming along.
