Page 39 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

I start to glance in Brayden’s direction but Alex’s fingertips coax my chin to remain right where it is. I lick my lips and his eyes flicker to my mouth for a beat.

I’m not sure whether this is part of Alex’s act or if he’s truly this into me right now. But in this room where these guys, in particular, are constantly comparing their dick sizes, he’s declaring himself the winner. And I dare say, judging from the hard-on pressing into my ass right now, I’m apt to crown him king.

“Fine. I fold,” Brayden says, tossing his cards to the center of the table atop a pile of fives and tens. Alex’s mouth curls and I shake my head in warning. He might not be drunk but he’s too buzzed to listen to reason, and he flips his cards over to show off the fact that Brayden just threw away what I quickly estimate to be about seventy-five dollars.

“Fuck you, Mendoza!” Brayden shouts, surging to his feet and shoving the table forward hard enough that it pushes me from Alex’s lap and onto the floor.

“Watch yourself,” Alex says, his voice surprisingly calm as he kicks his chair back and lunges to offer me his hand.

His eyes are steely, and his expression seems guarded. His bluffing has not ended.

“You okay?” he asks, his hand gentle along my cheek.

I nod but my eyes shift to where Brayden is rushing him. I open my mouth to warn him, but it comes out too late as he slams his foot into the center of Alex’s back, shoving him into me.

“That’s enough of this,” he says.

I grasp at his arm to no avail in an attempt to stop him. Within seconds, he’s back on his feet, his entire body bulldozing Brayden backward until he stumbles on his feet and falls through the screened door that leads to the back patio. The second Brayden gets back up, Alex assails him with a fist to the jaw, the crack loud enough that you can hear it inside over my music, which someone pauses. I blink, and in that time, the entire party is gathered while Alex paces around Brayden in a half circle.

“Ha, you’re a joke,” Brayden says, getting up on one knee. He spits blood onto the concrete, then wipes the cut on his lip with his sleeve.

Alex points at him, his head shaking and jaw clenched.

“You’re the joke,” he growls.

“Alex. Come on,” I say as I get to the open door frame, bits of torn screen flapping in the breeze. Embers pop from the firepit nearby, and a light stream of traffic hums from the highway in the distance. For a college party, it’s suddenly eerily silent.

Alex’s gaze shifts to me, his head falling to the side. I’m sorry, he mouths.

It’s okay, I mouth back. But in many ways, it’s not. Maybe adding an us on top of the stress he’s dealing with is too much. I shouldn’t have let our relationship change so fast.

I take his hand, though, because that change has come and gone. It’s accelerated. One fist to my ex’s jaw propelled the story of Alex and Nikki several chapters ahead. And I need Alex to know that even after this, I’m keeping him. We aren’t going back, not that we even could if we wanted to. And I’m not going anywhere, like I just said.

“You know what, Mendoza? You can keep her,” Brayden says just as we’re about to cross the threshold back into the house. My eyes close as I will him to just stop there. I can handle him spitting out insults if that’s what he needs to do to save face. He won’t hurt me, and I’m pretty sure the people in this house will see him a whole lot differently now anyhow.

But Alex? I’m not so sure he’ll be able to handle the insults. There are a few things he’s always defended with every ounce of fight in his body—my honor, and his mom’s. And that was before, when we were just friends.

“Hey, maybe I’ll call up your mom instead,” Brayden says, the drunken slur taking over. Or perhaps he’s just been punched drunk.

Alex stops with one foot in the door. I grip his arm and flatten my palm to his bicep, willing him to look me in the eyes. He does, and I can tell that all it would take is for me to give him permission. I won’t. Because his scholarship is on the line and he’s pushed it enough as is tonight. The last thing he needs is to seriously hurt Brayden to the point of an ER visit.

“Yeah, I hear she’s single now. Your dad shacking up with a student probably left her good and lonely. I bet she could use some lovin’,” Brayden laughs out.

I manage to squeeze Alex’s arm tight enough to force him to remain grounded, at least for a half second. In that time, I spin around, march up to Brayden’s bloodied face, and smack it with my open palm so hard that his head flails to one side.

“Shame on you,” I spit out, turning back around and marching through the silent party with my best friend’s hand clutched in mine.

12

alex

Nikki pulls up to the curb in front of my rental house and kills the engine. The street is dark and quiet since most of the people who live off campus are either in bed or at Brayden’s party.

“Fucking Brayden.”

She breathes out a short laugh. She’s been vibrating with anger for minutes. The drive home was quiet. She didn’t even bother to turn music on. Very unlike Nikki.

“I’m sorry he treated you that way,” I say, unclicking the safety belt and letting it zip across my chest.

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