“You’re right.” I lift my chin, quickly growing tired of the back and forth. My mind is in overdrive, my nervous system’s still not recovered from yesterday. I can’t do this right now. I don’t want to. “I let your feelings dictate everything for too long. But I’m an adult now, Dylan. We’re not kids anymore.”
“Could have fooled me. Sneaking around with my best friend, luring him into your bed like a goddamn whor?—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Gareth growls, taking a protective step in front of me, his entire body a giant wall.
Dylan steps closer, closing the distance so they’re chest to chest. “Or what, Gareth?” he challenges.
I can’t believe what I’m witnessing right now. The cruelness my brother’s showing…this isn’t the Dylan I’ve idolized my entire life. This man in front of me isn’t my brother.
My heart dips, the sad realization crashing over me like a wave I can’t control. The wave that was pulled back into sea, slow and silent, until it came crashing back to shore as a catastrophic tsunami.
I don’t think our relationships with Dylan will ever recover from this.
“You’re going to end up saying something you’ll regret. She’s your sister—show some damn respect.”
Dylan’s lips twist into a cruel smile. “The only thing I regret is bringing home the stray dog our freshman year.”
The insult lands like a punch to the gut. Pain flashes across his eyes, but he quickly buries it.
My stomach churns. I expected anger, but I never expected this level of ruthlessness.
“Do you hear yourself?” I burst. Any and all composure I was holding onto now gone. “Get over yourself. This—right here—is why we never acted on our feelings before. We knew you’d lose your mind.”
He barks a merciless laugh. “Says the ones sneaking around like teenagers.”
“We’re not hiding our relationship,” Gareth counters. “I’ve never treated Indy like a secret. I show her off—shower her with love. I’ve introduced her to my teammates. I kiss her in public. That’s not sneaking around.”
“Yet you hid it from me,” Dylan retorts.
“You were out of the country,” I argue. “And you know what? Even if you weren’t, I don’t need your damn permission to be with him, Dylan.”
“Yes,” he says, his glare turning lethal. “You absolutely do.”
“She doesn’t,” Gareth states from behind me, firm and final.
Dylan’s eyes darken, something unrecognizable flickering just below the surface. The shift in him is abrupt.
There’s no warning. No more cruel words.
And before my brain can catch up, he lunges forward, fist already in the air.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The first thing I notice is the sharp intake of Indy’s breath.
Not the look on Dylan’s face when he finally fully snaps.
Not the way he charges at me, fist raised, intent clear.
There’s barely time to glance between them, but when I confirm his wrath is aimed solely atme, instinct takes over.
I step into his space, catching his arm mid-swing, muscle memory kicking in like I’m back on the baseball diamond, snatching a ball from the air.
The impact is forceful. His fist never reaches my face, but it sends a jolt through me that travels up my arm and into my shoulder. There’s no mistaking Dylan’s intention—he wanted to hurt me.
Maybe I deserve it.
“Stop,” I growl, my grip tightening around his wrist. He thrashes against my wrist-lock, struggling to break through it.
