There’s a tightness around my lungs, and I have to force myself to breathe. Alex inches forward, one foot after the other, in my direction. But he never breaks eye contact, even when I shuffle nervously in place or drop my chin to my chest. From my peripheral vision, I notice Kane and Mountain shift in place but neither of them move.
“What are you doing, Sam?” I mutter to myself. “They’re friends, for Christ’s sake.”
Alex is in front of me now, looming over me, his voice low and pointed. “You okay?”
He’s concerned about me.
With a wavering gaze, I nod. “If you’re asking if he called back, no.”
Alex steps forward, closing what little distance is between us. A shudder rolls through me, his manly scent damn near overwhelming me. He’s pinned me between the concrete pillar and his hard chest. Then he touches me, his fingers wrapping around mine so innocently. Heat slicks across my skin, and I swallow down a lump.
“I’m going to take care of him.”
I shake my head but before the words can leave my lips, a voice breaks out behind us.
“You bitches miss me?” Jackson blurts out.
And I go still as I peer around Alex to see Jackson limping in. He’s no longer on crutches but instead he wears a hard cast. It’s like someone lit a fuse the way the team’s excitement explodes. Several of the players rush toward him, their voices blurring together.
“Took your sweet-ass time to come see us,” someone jokes.
“Had to make an entrance.” Jackson shrugs.
“Think you’ll be cleared in time for nationals?” goes a different person.
As soon as the words leave his lips, Jackson glares at me from across the room. And then everything from that second on moves at breakneck speed. Anger flickers in Alex’s eyes, and he’s off before I can stop him. I claw at his arm, but he jerks away, fist curled at his side.
“Alex. Let it go,” I plead but it’s useless.
Simultaneously, Mountain pushes off the wall, stoically stalking over to me. He doesn’t acknowledge Jackson, his only focus being me.My quiet protector.Kane watches us, his brows furrowing as he braces himself, and when he reads the emotions coming off of Alex, he weaves through the crowd to reach him.
“Kincaid,” Alex barks. There’s venom in his tone, sharp and icy. “Why the fuck have you been threatening her?”
Like a true psychopath, Jackson smiles, completely unfazed. The way his shoulders pull back, the pride in his stance tells me he knows exactly what Alex is referring to.
“What’s gotten into you, Williamsburg?” Jackson smirks. “Let me guess—” His eyes trail around Alex to me. The sick bastard is enjoying this. Feeding off it.
Alex lunges forward.
Kane steps in fast, shoving a hand against Alex’s chest. “We don’t need another fight.”
Alex is seething, unsuccessfully moving Kane out of the way.
“You fucking pussy,” Alex spits. “You think that shit’s cool.”
A screeching silence sweeps across the room, as everyone stares on in confusion.
“Going after a girl,” Alex continues.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackson lies.
“You know exactly what the fuck you did.” Alex points over Kane’s shoulder.
“Alex. What the fuck is going on?” Kane demands to know, craning his neck to keep Alex’s eyes on him.
“Whatever that bitch told you is a lie,” Jackson snaps, that cold demeanor shattering just a bit.
“Watch your—”
