Page 69 of Foul Line

I’m a little relieved. Only because there’s no way it’s going to escalate again. I finally turn my back on Jacquin and move toward Alec. Ryan still has his hands on his shoulders. I sneak past him and put my hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You did tell him not to touch you, didn’t you?”

I nod.

Relief floods his eyes. He pulls me into an embrace, and I let him.

Right there in front of everybody, his fingers sink into my skin, pulling me that much closer to him.

“What’s going on here, Sellers?” my dad asks, moving forward.

Alec finally lets me go, and I spin to look at Jacquin. There’s no getting around the fact that these two got in a fight. My heart constricts. “Dad,” I say. “Can I speak to you privately?” Maybe if I can just explain, but there’s no sense in embarrassing either one of them.

Alec pulls back on my arm. “It’s okay,” he whispers. Louder, he says, “I punched him, Mr. Dale.”

My father’s eyes widen a fraction. I knew he suspected something happened, but the fact that Alec isn’t trying to hide it is surprising. It’s more than surprising to me. It’s infuriating. “Don’t, Alec.”

Alec turns, his teeth clamped together.

“You’re going to get kicked out,” I say under my breath, hoping he’s the only one who catches it.

“I don’t care,” he says. “You know I don’t care.”

Ryan’s head snaps up. “You don’t care? What the hell does that mean?”

He’s livid. His whole body is vibrating from head-to-toe. He knows what’s about to happen as well as me. The other Ballers surround us now. They sense shit’s about to go down as well. Guilt swarms me. If only I’d been able to put a stop to Jacquin’s advances before Alec walked in.

“I don’t care, alright?” Alec says. His voice rises after his eyes bore into mine. “I don’t want to play basketball.” He shrugs. “I want to play baseball.”

Everything happening in that room at that same exact point in time, stops. It feels like the world outside the room stops, too. It isn’t news to me, but the rest of the Ballers’ reaction makes my stomach twist. They look hurt, shocked. A couple of them outright deny it.

“Sellers, Christopoulos, my cabin now,” Dad says.

“Dad,” I say, moving forward.

He looks back at me over his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll talk to you after.”

Alec walks by me, trailing his fingers over my arm. I watch all three of them walk out the door. The only one with his head down is Jacquin. Alec’s chin is lifted. He’s looking straight ahead like he’s going to accept his fate no matter what.

“What the fuck?” Lake grits out. He gets in my face. “You did this.”

Hayes is right by my side as I turn away from Lake. I go to the side of the room and sit on one of the wooden benches with the plain orange cushions, dropping my head into my hands. I can’t believe Alec just dropped that bomb in front of anyone, and I really can’t fucking believe he punched Jacquin Sellers for trying to kiss me. He’s fucking insane.

“What happened?” I hear Ryan ask.

I look up to find all the Ballers lined up in front of me. Hayes’s shoulder is in front of Lake’s like he’s trying to box him out. The rest of the guys who’d walked in to see what was going on all walk back into the mess hall whispering to one another.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, glancing at Ryan’s gray eyes, trying to beg him to let it drop.

“Bullshit,” Lake says. “You were the only one out here with them. What happened?”

I glare at the boy who’s given me so much trouble. I see fear in his eyes and at least I can see that it’s worry over his friend. He’s entitled to know what Alec tells him, but he doesn’t get to know my shit. “Fuck off, O’Brien. Sellers is still here, so unless you want to forfeit the arrangement we have, I suggest you shut your mouth now.”

His already balled up hands to his sides shake with anger. The skin around his knuckles is white as he glowers at me. “I look forward to kicking your ass, Dale.”

“Bring it on,” I tell him half-heartedly. I don’t have the energy to fight with Lake right now. My mind’s on what’s going on at my father’s cabin right now.

Sloan comes forward and sits next to me. He puts his hand around my shoulders, rubbing circles over my shirt. Lake’s gaze darts around to the other Ballers. With each set of eyes he stops on, the more light seeps out. I think he realizes they’re all on my side, at least to a degree. He’s not running the show anymore.

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