‘Are you listening to me?’ I ask in exasperation.
‘I’m serious,’ Mason bites back. ‘This isn’t about me. This is about him. He’s not a nice guy, and you need to be careful.’
Making fists of my hands at my sides, I even out my breathing before I cause a scene and alert my brother to our argument. Twisting on my heel, I march up the stairs. His footsteps follow me, so I walk faster.
I stride into my room and slam the door. I hear it bang against his hand as he throws it back open.
‘Fuckoff,’ I snarl through gritted teeth. ‘I mean it, Mason.’
He’s suddenly right in front of me. He gently pushes me so that my back hits the wall. I inhale so sharply I nearly choke. He wedges his knee between mine, holding me in place. His fingers dig into my pocket and pull out the piece of paper.
‘This isn’t aI-can’t-have-her-so-no-one-canthing,’ he growls, the heat of his skin searing against mine. ‘I’m doing what’s best for you.’
‘You have no right to pick and choose what’s best for me!’
He steps back and rips the piece of paper in two. My jaw drops as I gape at him. Without breaking eye contact, he crumples the paper in his palm.
‘You’re such an asshole,’ I seethe.
‘I’m warning you, Blush,’ he says. ‘Don’t talk to him.’
‘I’ve changed my mind; I do fucking hate you,’ I whisper, furious tears welling in my eyes. I don’t even know why I’m upset, it’s not like I’m head over heels for the guy I met tonight, but Mason always brings out the worst in my emotions. He makes me feel too much, too intensely.
The left side of his mouth tilts upward. His gaze drops to my lips. ‘We both know you don’t.’
11
MASON
THE FOOTBALL SLAMS INTOmy chest and I let out a breathless gasp.
‘Pay attention!’ Zayden snaps at me, shooting a frustrated look my way.
Sighing, I toss the ball back. I can’t stop thinking about how I acted last night. Stalking Anya like I have some sort of claim on her. Ripping up Kai’s number like a possessive freak. I’m a fucking idiot. But I just can’t watch Anya get hurt by someone like him. She has been through enough – and I acknowledge my part in that. This is me making amends, even if she doesn’t see it that way. She doesn’t know him like I do.
Zayden is the one going through a break-up, but he seems a hell of a lot more put-together than I do. The last few nights, I heard him talking on the phone, but could never quite make out what he was saying. Part of me is convinced he and Leasa have started calling each other again, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about it.
When my head is a mess, football is usually the one thing that re-centres me, but not today. That girl is embedded in my mind, body and soul. I just can’t shake her, no matter how hard I try. She makes me irrational.
‘Take a lap, Jameson!’ Coach calls from the sidelines, giving me a displeased frown. His cap is firmly placed on his head, casting a shadow across his eyes. He grips the whistle hanging around his neck so tightly his knuckles are white.
‘What?’ I exclaim in shock, forcefully yanking myself out of my thoughts and back to what I’m currently doing. ‘Why?’
‘Your head isn’t in the game. Lap. Now.’
The anger surging inside me is a tidal wave, destroying anything in its path. Gritting my teeth so hard I might crack a molar, I nod stiffly, knowing better than to argue with him. ‘Yes, Coach.’
Pushing myself into a jog, I run past the rest of the team. Zayden sends me a confused look, which I ignore. He’s the only person I confide in, but about this, I can’t. If anyone acts crazy when it comes to Anya, it’s him. He’s even worse than me.
I have been throwing myself into football since returning from Mexico. I was a slack player in the past; I did the absolute bare minimum. But I’m working hard this time around to do better, and it’s paying off. Coach and I had a few one-on-one meetings about strategies for games, which makes me feel like an essential part of the team, and that he values my opinion. Since Anya moved in, though, my laser-sharp focus has been wavering. I can’t let my control slip. This is important to me, and I want to stay focused, but it’s hard when my mind is consumed with her. The wind is cold and harsh on my flushed cheeks. I pick up the pace, chasing the burn in my lungs. I need the numbness that practice provides me.
I focus a little better through the rest of training, but everyone keeps giving me looks as if they know I’m off my game. They’re making it worse. When Kai tackles me so hard I see fucking stars, it doesn’t help. It takes every bit of my self-control not to pummel him into the ground. Flashes of him dancing with Anya, his hands on her hips, make me so insufferably mad I want to scream.
Dragging my feet, I walk to the locker room. I peel off my sweaty clothes and step into the shower, desperate to feel the warm water run over my wound-up muscles. Leaning on the tiles, I rest my forehead on my hand. It’s too early in the year to be feeling this out of whack. I finish showering and dress quickly.
Zayden is by my car when I head outside. Every part of my body hurts.
‘Took your time,’ he says, eyes glued to his phone. ‘What’s up with you today?’
