Page 26 of Redemption
I’m not in a position to ever admit how deep my feelings for MJ run—not even to myself. I won’t betray my best friend like that, but over my dead body will she be here with him.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, deepening my voice.
Eric Westbrook, one of our linemen, lifts his head from where he’d been leaning in to kiss MJ and glares at me.
I glare back. The dude might be bigger than I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t whip his butt—especially when it comes to MJ. She hasn’t looked at me yet, which is probably a good thing because one soft look from those crystal blue eyes, and I’d crumble at her feet.
My focus now needs to stay on Eric, who knows perfectly well that Mallorie Jade is off-limits. Langston made that clear to all the guys on the team, and I backed him up. Langston thought it was because I was protecting her like a little sister, but my reasons were more selfish than that. I couldn’t stand thinking about seeing her with any of the guys on my team—not when I dream about her looking at me, holding my hand, kissing me.
“Back off, man,” Eric says, his voice matching the burning anger in his eyes.
A dark chuckle slips out because, despite having played football with him for the past four years, he obviously doesn’tknow me if he thinks I will walk away while he’s standing here with MJ under the bleachers.
“Mallorie Jade,” I say, using her real name and emphasizing just how serious I am, all while keeping eye contact with Eric, “go get in the truck. I’m taking you home.”
Until now, she hasn’t bothered to turn and look at me, but at my command, she whips around, fiery red hair floating around her, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.
“You’re not the boss of me. I’m busy here.”
Shock hits me square in the chest, but I school my features, so I don’t show it. The shy girl who would hardly say two words to me and whose face lit up like a Christmas tree every time she saw me is long gone. In her place stands a girl who no longer cowers to anyone. I’ve seen the change over the last year—I watched as she stopped giving in to her mother’s demands and started finding who she was outside of her parents’ values, but I hadn’t experienced that wrath turned my way yet. It does funny things to my chest, making me want to pull her towards me and shake her while also being so proud of her I could nearly burst.
Wanting to shake her wins out when Eric’s eyes drop lower than they should ever be.
My hands clench into fists as my gaze drops from Eric to MJ. I wait for one second, then two, to see who will break first. When she plants her feet firmly into the ground and crosses her arms across her chest, I know there’s no way she’s backing down. Unfortunately for her, though, neither am I.
Stepping forward, I direct my stare back to Eric. “Do we need to get Langston for this?” I ask, pure venom lacing my voice.
He looks at me like he could run through me, and that’s fine—he’s welcome to try.
Finally, when I think I’m going to have to fight him, he backs down and says, “Whatever, she wasn’t worth it anyway.”
I’m tempted to chase after him and pummel him for that comment alone, but a fist lands square in my stomach, and it’s surprisingly strong.
“Oof. What was that for, MJ?” I ask, rubbing the spot where her hand connected with my abs.
She pushes past me, walking toward the parking lot.
“For being a jerk,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Ah, come on, MJ. You know I’m just looking out for you, right?”
She keeps walking into the parking lot and past my truck, ignoring me.
“Hey,” I call, lengthening my stride and catching up to her, “my truck’s back that way.”
“I’m aware,” she says simply and keeps on walking.
“Didn’t you hear me say I’m taking you home? Langston is getting more practice in.”
Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she spins towards me. “Didn’t you get the idea that I would rather walk a thousand miles than get in your truck right now? I’m walking home. Goodbye.”
She spins on her heel and starts walking again.
A low rumble of frustration emanates from my chest, and once again, I pick up my pace to catch up with her. Only this time, when I catch her, I scoop her up in my arms and spin her around until she’s slung over my shoulder and hanging upside down.
“Hayes Miller, put me down right now,” she says, pounding her fists against my back.
I ignore it like a pesky little fly, and when I’m at my truck, I open the door and throw her into the passenger side, pushing the lock down before I close it and rush over to the driver’s side.
