My respect level for Troy notches up a bit even if I suspect it’s going to plummet straight into the depths of hell before the sun rises—him and these men who will look me straight in the eye and never mention to me that my fiancé, the man I’ve considered the other part of my heart, is a cheating piece of shit.
2
FUMBLE: BALL CARRIER LOSES POSSESSION.
Ican’t believe the shit coming out of his mouth. There’s a fine line between keeping your cool and breaking a man’s jaw. Right now, I’m stepping right up to the line of scrimmage.
My hands ball into fists at my sides until I feel my nails dig into the palms of my hands. Anger, the likes I haven’t felt since my prepubescent years, surges through me. I’d be furioushearing any man talk about a woman this way, but this is entirely different.
This is Maya. Maya, whose eyes reflect the sky. Whose curls bounce with her mood. Whose lips curve into smiles at the slightest provocation. Every time she laughs at something I’ve said, I feel a split second of vertigo right before a free fall—the kind that makes you wonder if you’re about to crash or fly.
What’s crazy is I feel a connection with her greater than with the men who surround me on this patio, even though we’ve only known each other for a few short weeks. Without a doubt, she’s the kind of woman you make life changes for.
I breathe, trying to regulate my air. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I let my anger settle into something colder. Stepping forward, all heads turn in my direction. “Find yourself a new best man.”
Bryce laughs, cheap and quick, like a guy who thinks he still owns the field. The guys join in—some right away, some with some hesitancy. It lasts for maybe three seconds before I growl, “Enough.” The word stops all sound. “I wasn’t joking.”
“Of course you were,” he dismisses me.
I shake my head. “I refuse.”
“What?” Bryce squawks. “What do you mean you won’t stand up for me? You’re supposed to be my friend.”
“Because you’re a piece of shit, Parry.”
“What? Why?”
“Maya deserves someone better than you.”
Bryce scoffs. “Maya knew who she was marrying.”
“Did she? Does she know about all your other women?”
“She’s smart.”
“That’s right. And one, five, ten years from now—hell, five minutes—I want her to know I didn’t stand by and sanction you knowingly ruining her life.”
“Fuck you, Walsh!”
“No, go fuck yourself. It might be a novel experience if you use your hand instead of filling some random hole.”
Bryce’s face is puce; he’s so livid. “If you think I’m not going to marry her, you’re crazy. She loves me. She always will.”
“Keep deluding yourself,” I taunt.
He surges toward me, fists flailing. I easily avoid his pathetic attempt to show how big his dick is in front of the team because his drunken display gives me the opening I’ve been dying for since he opened his rot-filled mouth.
Instinct takes over. Two quick gut shots born of fury and disgust from everything I’ve listened to tonight. Born of something I don’t quite understand about my feelings for Maya. They’re the kind to knock the air out of a man and hopefully destroy his arrogance right along with it.
At least, it takes some of his buzz away when Bryce vomits all over the patio. His hands go to his stomach—breath coming in sharp, useless gasps.
“You’re deluded as fuck if you think she’ll ever love you now once this gets out,” I growl.
“Who's gonna tell her?”
“If no one else here has the balls, you can bet your ass I will.”
He barks a laugh. “Like she’ll believe you? I have her so well trained, it’s sick. I?—”
