Page 70 of The Love Playbook

Eventually Eli sidles up next to me, leaning on the bar. “Dude. What gives?”

Raising my eyebrows, I crunch the ice in my mouth, having switched to ice water a while ago. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

He turns to face me fully, fixing me with hisyou need to listen to meglare. I hide my smile by tipping another piece of ice into my mouth.

“Man, we’re all here trying to get you”—he waves his arms around—“something. I’d honestly be shocked if you went for a bathroom BJ or anything like that. But you could at least make out with one of the chicks we’ve sent your way.”

I snort out a laugh. “Why? What good would that do?”

“It’d help you get over Autumn, for one.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You think so, huh?”

He nods emphatically. “Yes. It’s a proven remedy. You’d know that—” He clamps his mouth shut, stopping the rest of his words.

Right. This again. My lack of experience being tossed in my face as though that proves something. “If I’d fucked a bunch of women?”

Staring into his glass, he swirls the liquid and lifts a shoulder in a shrug that means yes.

Sighing, I look away. “And how’s that working out foryou?” I mean to say it quietly, half hoping he won’t hear me, because that half of me doesn’t want to get into an argument with my best friend in the middle of a crowded bar.

But the half of me that’s raw and stinging and angry craves the confrontation. Maybe that’s why football’s been going so well lately. I’machingfor the violence of bursting through the defensive line, of outrunning my would-be tacklers, and even of getting caught and taken down. So I make damn sure I completeeverypass, because no one chases you and no one tackles you if you don’t have the fucking ball. The crunch and crash of another body knocking into me so hard we both fall down is cathartic, the ball clutched tightly against my chest, because I’m not fucking letting them force a turnover either.

That half that wants violence and confrontation wants Eli to hear my question. And that half gets what it wants.

His head snaps up, his eyes blazing as they meet my cool gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I snort and shake my head. “Like you don’t know. You’ve had it bad for Dani for how long now? And you’ve done fuck all about it. Instead you fuck chicks at parties and go after nearly anyone and everyone else. You’re still not over her, though, are you?”

His mouth twists into a humorless smirk. “Fuck you, Jackson. You don’t know anything about it.”

“Don’t I?” I cross my arms. “Is this where you tell me that my lack of experience makes me an idiot again? Because while I might not have a lot of firsthand experience, I’ll admit that, I pay attention to everyone else. Figure I might as well learn from your mistakes so I avoid them whenever I decide to participate.”

“Oh? And when’s that gonna be? You think you’re participating now because you screwed some chick who’s screwed half the football team? And then she cut you off and now you’re back to holding up the wall again. How’s that participating, Jackson?”

“So if I don’t do exactly what you want, when you want it, I’m … what? Less of a man? Is that it?”

His shoulders jerk. “Look—”

But I’m tired of everyone telling me what I’m thinking and what I’m feeling and what I should be doing. “No,youlook.” I get in his face in a way I’ve never done with Eli before. With anyone, really. “I’m fuckingsickof you slut-shaming Autumn. What’s the problem? Are you jealous she’ll get with me but has never expressed an interest in you? Or are you mad that I’m able to turn a friendship into more than that while you’re stuck with your thumb up your ass while Dani comes over and tells you about her shitty boyfriend back home?”

He shoves me.

I stumble back, surprised. Then I grin at him, a wild grin, and I charge.

This is what I’ve been craving. I need a fight to work some of the rage and adrenaline out of my blood. And apparently Eli needs it to.

We grapple, trading shoves more than punches, heedless of the people and tables we knock into.

Shouting goes up around us, and hands reach around my torso from behind, yanking me away. I struggle against the restraining grip on my torso, but someone grabs the neck of my shirt from behind and yanks it back hard enough to pop the stitches and jerk the collar against my throat, choking me for a split second.

With the hand still holding onto my shirt, I stop struggling, staring at Eli who’s being held back by Liam with his arms hooked under Eli’s armpits. Eli’s glaring right back at me.

Whatever’s come over me tonight makes it so I have to get the last word in, even though I know it’s probably a bad idea. “Quit being such a little bitch and go after what you want,” I spit at him, spreading my arms wide. “We all know you’re in love with her. You’ll never be happy if you don’t at least try.”

With that, I turn for the door, shaking off Dylan’s hands still holding onto me. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” I say in response to the bartender’s shouts that he’ll call the cops if we don’t leave immediately.

My teammates spill out into the cool night air right behind me, talking loudly, but I have no idea what they’re saying. Adjusting my shirt, I stuff my hands in my pockets and lead the way back to the hotel.

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