Not Jealous
Adrian
Breathe. Just breathe.
Don’t make a scene.
We called Steve Jackson earlier today. He is one of those guys who knows everyone. Ronan was sure he would have information for us, but instead, we got jackshit.
“Lex Donnelly?” He had asked. “Name rings a bell. I might have met her at a conference. She’s in sales, right?”
That was it. Five years and some vague fucking ‘maybe’ from the guy who is supposed to know everyone, according to Ronan.
Now, my girlfriend is next to me. My friend and teammate has released the woman I’ve been looking for. I make eye contact with Nate. His face is flushed, his hat is off-kilter, and his eyebrows furrow, silently asking what’s wrong. I shake my head slightly, letting him know not to push me—I can see the effect she had on him written on his face, in the way he’s still breathless.
Alice leans forward, ever the perfect girlfriend, offering a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m Alice. It’s nice to meet you!”
Too high. Too polite. Too fucking fake.
Lex’s eyes shift from me to Alice. She cautiously takes the offered hand and says, “I’m Lex. It’s nice to meet you.” She falters on her name a little.
I narrow my eyes at her - my heart might beat out of my chest.
“Lex?” Nate sounds confused.
Lex scoots to the edge of the booth. “Excuse me.”
Oh, fuck no. She’s not getting away this quickly.
Not after I spent years looking for her in random bars, in cities that I knew she wasn’t in. I step in front of her to block her path. Her eyes slowly rise to meet mine; she’s half-dressed, her cheeks are pink, those pouty fucking lips are swollen, and I can’t help the storm building in my chest, knowing she looks well-fucked because of my teammate. I strive to smile, but the result must be intimidating.
We hold eye contact.
My chest rises and falls in an uneven, chaotic rhythm.
“Leaving already?” I ask. “Looks like you two were just getting acquainted. Don’t leave on our account.”
I press my hand to her shoulder, firm enough that she flinches, then freezes, looking like a deer in headlights. The reaction hits me somewhere deep, but I ignore it.
Instead, I push.
It’s not hard—just enough to send her off balance. Just enough to put her back where I want her. She falls into the booth.
Her expression shifts; her eyes narrow, and she looks ready for a fight.
“I need to use the ladies’ room and find my friend. Excuse me.”
She pushes forward, forcing me to shift out of her way. If I didn’t, Alice would notice, and that’s the last thing I need. Her shoulder slams into mine as she passes, a silent fuck-you wrapped in motion. I look back to Nate. His expression is somewhere between frustrated and confused.
I wrap a hand around Alice’s waist and lean into her ear, “Can you grab us a couple of drinks, Ali?” I ask, slipping my wallet into her hand.
Her attention is elsewhere, but she turns to me, smiles, and nods. She walks off toward the bar. Granting me the opportunity to speak openly with Nate. I turn back to face him, letting my mask of indifference slip so he can see how ready to explode I am.
“What, and I cannot stress this enough, the actual fuck, man?”
“What? What’s the problem?” He responds.
Fuck, he is dense.
“Her!?” I bark. “You picked her?”
Breathe.
Inhaling deeply, I urge my heart to slow down.
His head swivels from me to the direction she walked and back. Nate wasn’t on the team five years ago; he joined at the start of this season. He wasn’t around during the years when the team was constantly on my case about her. Only Ronan, Cally, and I have remained since the early days. Even still, he was there at the restaurant. He commented on tattooed chicks being hot.
Before we can say more, Alice returns with drinks. I press a light kiss to her temple in thanks, and she returns to people-watching. Nate’s attention turns away from me and over my shoulder, excitement in his expression. He scoots out of the booth and gestures for Alice to sit. She grabs my hand and slides in; I don’t want to follow. I want to stop him from leaving, but that isn’t possible without bringing attention to the situation, and I need Alice to stay in her blissful ignorance.
“I’ll be right back,” He says, not focusing on either of us.
I pull my hat off and scrub my hand down my face. Alice catches the movement and turns to me.
“You okay?”
“Great,” I reply, keeping my tone even. “Not really in the mood to be here tonight. Or to play babysitter while my teammates try to fuck in front of an audience.”
She leans into me. The movement is so familiar, but tonight feels so wrong, foreign.
Get away from me.
My gaze locks on Lex as she moves toward the dance floor, with Nate following closely behind.
I can’t stay put any longer.
“Do you wanna dance?”
Her eyes light up. I never ask her to dance. I almost feel bad—I don’t want to dance. I want to keep my eyes on her. Lex. Alice practically jumps out of the booth and quickly races for the dance floor. I slowly follow, drinking the rest of my beer and dropping the glass on a table as I pass.
The dance floor is crowded. I spot Alice dancing with another one of the guy’s girlfriends. I scan the area and spot Lex. She is leaning into a blonde woman, speaking into her ear. Nate is behind her, trying to encourage her to dance. I watch her eyes. They go from her friend to the surrounding area. She looks tense. I can tell she’s asking her friend to leave. Her friend shakes her head and leans back into Ronan.
Fucking, of course.
I consider my options. I could, and should, go to Alice, but know that’s not where I'm heading. I push through the crowd toward Lex, the blonde, Ronan, and Nate. Ronan hasn’t even noticed who’s standing in front of him. He’s fixated on the blonde, wearing practically nothing, grinding against his dick. I take in Lex’s attire as I move toward her. The dress is short, and leaning into her friend puts too much of her body on display; meaning everyone else in this club can see too much of her body.
The fire in my chest blazes hotter.
This isn’t jealousy.
I’m not jealous.
She gently grabs her friend’s hand, and when her gaze sweeps the room and lands on me, her eyes widen. She leans back to her friend, whose eyes pop open. She straightens up off Ronan, and his eyes shift from her ass up to see what has her attention—landing on me. He smiles and throws his hands in the air, pointing at the blonde and mouthing, “Oh my god.”
Nate pulls Lex back against him despite her attempts to pull away. Ronan has seen this look on my face before. He knows when I’m about to start something. His smile fades, and he follows my gaze to Nate and Lex. His expression shifts from confusion to surprise to what can only be described as, ‘Oh shit.’
There is no hesitation this time.
She’s mine.
Alice is on the other side of the massive room, far enough away that I’m not worried she’ll see this. I stalk straight to Lex and Nate, my breathing rate increasing with each step, hands clenched at my sides. She’s laughing nervously as his arms wrap around her body, and I see fucking red. When I reach them, I grab her arm and rip her away from him, barely noticing the ‘oof’ of the guy she collides with behind me.
Nate steps forward and manages to say, “Liberty, what is your fucking probl—” Just before I swing.
There is a sickening crack as my fist hits the side of his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. This is not a warning shot. It’s five years of desperate frustration packed into one ruthless punch. His head snaps to the side, and blood from his nose sprays the blonde.
She immediately screams as all hell breaks loose.
Nate and I have fought before—always on the ice.
This is different.
He returns the punch and then tackles me to the grimy club floor. My fist slams into his face and ribs repeatedly. He barely lands a hit and the ones he does feel like fucking pillows. I feel a bouncer grab me, a feeble attempt to break us apart, and I slam my elbow back into his face, sending him stumbling backward. It’s only when Ronan hoists me up off the ground, his usual smile missing and pure rage in his eyes, that I see the surrounding destruction.
Nate is on the floor, covered in his own blood.
The bouncer is holding a cut that drips from his eyebrow.
Alice is sobbing in the arms of some other chick.
None of it matters.
I couldn’t care less.
It’s those stormy eyes. Her eyes blaze with intensity as she pulls her friend out of the club that has an impact.
I’m so fucking done watching her walk away from me.