Page 156 of The Dixon Rule

“I can’t believe you’re entered in the American Nine,” I say, unable to stop a note of grudging respect. “You must be phenomenal.”

“I can’t believe you managed to get Shane to enter one event, let alone three.” Her tone becomes rueful. “It’s nice to see him maturing. Growing into the man I always knew he could be.”

I bristle on his behalf. “What was he like before?”

“Selfish,” she says bluntly. “He had a one-track mind, and that track was hockey.”

“I mean, it still is.” I shrug. “But maybe now he’s better able to incorporate other items into his schedule.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t do that with me.” Annoyance clouds her expression. “No offense to you, but it’s frustrating, you know? It’s like you have this fixer-upper house that you’re pouring all your time and energy into, and then when it’s beautifully renovated, you don’t even get to live in it.”

It’s difficult to keep my jaw closed. Is she seriously comparing Shane to a run-down house that she, what? Slapped a coat of paint on and made better? Bitch.

He was fine the way he was, I want to retort.

But at the same time, I have no idea what he was like in high school. Maybe he was a total bonehead and a terrible boyfriend.

“Someone else is reaping the benefits,” she says, waving a hand toward me as she continues with her insensitive analogy. “And it makes you want to dip into your savings and buy that house back.”

I don’t know if she’s joking, but I laugh regardless because it’s so ridiculous. Does she truly think she can just snap her fingers and get him back?

“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.” I gesture at myself. “You know, on account of his girlfriend.”

“It was a joke.”

“No,” I say evenly. “I don’t think it was.”

Any lingering humor fades. “It was a joke,” she repeats.

“Really.”

We stare at each other for a minute. Her unwavering gaze doesn’t bother me. I jerk a finger toward the ivy-colored building twenty yards away.

“That’s you right there.”

“Thank you.” Lynsey takes a step forward, then stops to look over her shoulder. “I don’t want Shane back, Diana.” She pauses meaningfully, a smirk forming on her pouty mouth. “If I did, though, it wouldn’t be that hard to get him.”

With that, she saunters off.

I’m utterly fuming as I walk into the gym a few minutes later. What the hell was that? This chick actually thinks she can steal my man?

He’s not your man.

Okay, but she doesn’t know that.

And she has a boyfriend of her own! What kind of selfish-ass bitch goes around threatening to steal someone’s boyfriend when she’s got one at home?

He’s not your real boyfriend.

Well, maybe he fucking should be, I silently snap at the voice in my head.

My volatile response to Lynsey’s threat gives me pause. Is that what I really want? For Shane to be my boyfriend? My mind is suddenly a jumbled mess.

The only thing I’m certain about is that I cannot fucking stand Shane’s ex.

I stomp into the locker room and yank open my locker, so I can shove my backpack into it. Then I take a long, calming breath.

I can’t go into practice this riled up. You need a cool head when you’re performing stunts and tumbling routines where one misstep can mean a broken bone or a concussion. Not only that, but I have an added dose of pressure when it comes to this squad. Not only am I the captain, but I’m also one of three flyers and the top girl. That means I’m at the top of the pyramid, which is fucking terrifying. The pressure is liable to choke you alive if you let it.

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