"Ethan?" Jack says.
"What?" Too sharp.
"Oh. I get it now."
"Getwhat?"
Knowing look. "Nothing. Just interesting how you've been avoiding Liam all week and now you can't take your eyes off him."
"I'm not…" The protest dies as Reed leans in again. Mouth at Liam's ear.
My jaw tightens until the pressure builds in my temples. I force myself to look away. Breathe. Unclench.
"It's fine if Liam wants to hang out with Reed. He can make his own choices. I'm just concerned because Reed's a bad influence. I'm still his leader."
Jack raises an eyebrow. "Right. That's why you look like you're about to commit murder."
"I don't care who Liam hangs out with," I say, even as my eyes drift back. Reed is showing off a new tattoo on his forearm. Liam traces it with his fingertip.
I can't breathe.
"I should warn him about Reed. As his leader. It's my responsibility."
Jack grabs my arm. "Yeah, no. Bad idea. You've been ignoring him all week, and now you're going to march over and play protector? Pick a lane, man."
He's right. I hate it. I have no claim on Liam. I've made that clear with my own behavior. This feeling, this hot, sharp thing beneath my ribs, has no right to exist.
I chose this. I did this.
"You're right. Let's go outside. I need air."
I follow Jack toward the door. I don't look back. I tell myselfit doesn't matter what Liam does or who he spends time with.
Outside, I try to focus on the sky. Stars. Cold air. Jack talks about MMA, training regimens, Muay Thai versus BJJ, favorite fighters. I manage maybe fifteen minutes without thinking about Reed and Liam.
Then I see them.
Darker corner of the courtyard. Too close to each other.
"Griff wants us focusing more on endurance," I say. The words come out distant, automatic. My attention is locked on them.
Reed leans against the brick wall, one foot propped behind him. Liam stands in front of him, closer than necessary, back to me. That restless energy in his movements as he talks. Reed eating it up. At least a head taller than Liam, bigger, bulkier. Sleeveless shirt he obviously modified, against the rules. Nothing touches Reed.
"You think we'll be ready for the tournament?" Jack asks.
My mouth opens. The words die as Liam reaches out and touches Reed's arm. Fingers resting on Reed's bicep.
My steps falter.
"Ethan?"
Reed leans in. Mouth at Liam's ear. Whispering something that makes Liam's eyes widen. Reed's hand comes up to Liam's waist. Casual. Possessive.
"I need to…" I don't finish. I'm already moving.
"Ethan, wait…!"
Something snaps. Wire breaking under too much tension. My vision narrows to a tunnel: Reed's mouth, Reed's hand, Liam's waist.
