I start to run. When I catch up, I plant myself in front of her, forcing her to slow down. All I want to do is take her in my arms, but instinct holds me back.
“Where you running off to like that?”
She purses her lips and sighs, recoiling like I’m infected with some kind of virus. The space between us is as cold as ice.
“Are you okay? We had a session planned, remember?”
“I was busy.”
She’s still not meeting my eye. She swerves around me, and I step to the side, blocking her way.
“I’m kinda in a hurry, here.”
I know that look—Iknowall she wants to do right now is kick mein the balls, and I’m beyond confused. In the space of a week, here we are, acting like we barely know each other.
“What is goingonwith you?” I try. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’ve got a lot going on—I don’t have time for this. You of all people should get that.”
Unease stirs in my gut when I spot a guy running toward us.
“I was looking all over for you, babe!”
Babe?
He clasps her from behind, his tattooed hands flat against her stomach as he kisses her cheek.Babe?
Rage prickles against my skin, threatening to erupt at any minute—but it’s about to get so much worse. Slowly, she turns to face him, looping her arms around his neck, and when she slips her tongue between his lips it’s a blade through my heart, the air draining from my lungs as I stand there in silence, watching them stroll away hand in hand.
I glance over my shoulder. My friends are hurrying my way.
“Guess that explains the silence.” Don sighs. “I didn’t recognize the dude, though. Did you?”
I recognize him all right. The guy from Brooklyn.Just an old friend.
A switch flips. Before I know it, I’m homing in on Esteban, covering the ground in seconds, my eyes trained on his back as I catch up with them.
“This guy been keeping you ‘busy,’ huh?” I snarl.
Amy stops in her tracks, whipping around to face me. Esteban glances back and forth between us, and when he slings an arm around her shoulders, all I want to do is smash my fist into his dumbass face and wipe that shit-eating grin off it.
My eyes search Amy’s, begging for some kind of explanation.
“What happened to your eye?” I ask. “Another fight?”
She stares at me, her eyes brimming with disdain.
What the hell is up with her? Everything was going great, and now suddenly she’s back to being her old savage self.
“What the fuck is your game?” I hiss.
“Why?” she says flatly. “You wanna play?”
My mind drifts back to the first time I set eyes on her—when I ended up with my face smooshed into her hood. She’s ten times meaner now than she was back then.
“She plays hard.” The guy winks.
Fuck you, buddy.
