Page 29 of Blood Sport

“I came to see Miles,” she continues as she walks past me, not even stopping for a second. “You seen him around?”

I bite back an amused smile. “You just missed him. He left to go see his girlfriend.”

Evie stops in her tracks and slowly turns to face me, her doe eyes slightly blurred. “Well, that’s a shame. I might just text him.”

She moves to walk past me, but my hand darts out to wrap around her wrist, halting her in place. Her breathing hitches and the rhythm of her heart stutters as she turns to look at me.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

The crease in her forehead makes me realize that the question may have come out of left field. But after what I learned today about Roman and the texts he’s been sending her, I want to make sure she’s okay. As much as I want her to know that I would do anything for her, even if it meant burning this entire fucking planet to the ground if she asked, I need to take this slow. If I have to watch from the sideline, keeping a safe distance to ensure her safety, then I will. But at this moment, as I’m looking into her soft eyes and seeing the pain hidden behind them, I can’t help but let my guard drop.

Evie huffs and snatches her hand out of my grip as if she were on fire. “I’m fine. You should do something about that cold skin of yours. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

I chuckle at her words. Even drunk off her ass with a cocktail glass in one hand and a scowl on her face, she’s still the same witty Evie I have always known.

“When you admit you’re attracted to me, I’ll look at getting some hand warmers.”

She rolls her eyes and walks past me toward the main road, chugging the remainder of the liquid in the large glass. “I guess neither of us will get what we want.”

I tug my lip ring between my teeth and watch as she stumbles through the parking lot, hopefully heading back to the bar she came from. Before Evie leaves my sight, she slows her pace and pulls out her phone from her bag, reading whatever is on the screen before disappearing around the corner.

“Don’t worry, little angel. I always get what I want.”

11

Evie

I can still feel the ghost of his fingers wrapped around my wrist, holding me firmly in place. It had spread a fire across my skin, one that I couldn’t put out no matter how many more fruity cocktails I drank when I got back to the bar last night. All I could feel was the tingling sensation across my skin, reminding me how bad Jaylen is for me, but also, how insanely attracted I am to him.

Although, that’s not something I’ll ever admit to him.

My mind is screaming at me to stay clear of him and run as fast as I can in the opposite direction, but my heart seems to want to steer me in another direction, straight toward him. I know he’s bad for me, but it seems my body doesn’t give a fuck.

It’s fucking with my head, and I don’t know what to do.

After the game, Rylee, Jaycee, and Candie dragged me to the Tipsy Tiki down the road from the stadium to celebrate the Raider’s win over the Dolphins. I had one too many cocktails and decided to go rogue and leave the bar. Drunk me wanted to see Miles even though I hadn’t texted him before to see if he was still at the stadium. I don’t know how the security guard let me leave the bar with my cocktail, but he was a legend for doing so.

When I arrived at the staff parking lot the team uses, I caught the back end of Jaylen and Amara’s conversation despite how tipsy I was at the time. I didn’t even know they knew each other, but I did hear her ask him to spend the night with her, which didn’t shock me. Of course, he would’ve slept with Amara. I’m not saying she gets around, but I know Jaylen does, so it makes sense they would’ve crossed paths. I want to know more about their history, but it seems there isn’t much given how dismissive he was of her.

I don’t remember much of my interaction with Jaylen thanks to the alcohol I had consumed, but I didn’t forget the way his cool palm felt against my flushed skin. With how intensely the memory is embedded into my skin, I don’t think I’ll forget his touch.

I sigh, and close the book on my lap, having given up on reading the same paragraph mindlessly. I look around the living room, noticing that the girls who were in here earlier had left without my knowing. Good, I welcome the silence.

It’s Sunday, so most of the girls in the house are recovering from a wild Saturday night of drinking or doing the walk of shame as they walk up the staircase to their bedroom. But me? I’m sitting on the couch with a hot mug of tea and the current book I’m reading, violently hungover but with no desire to be in bed all day. I have found it doesn’t help cure it but makes me feel even more like shit.

Dragging myself off the couch, I collect my book and half-drunk tea and head toward the kitchen. It’s almost midday and the house is mostly quiet because everyone is in bed recovering. This means I have the kitchen all to myself to make a nice lunch and enjoy some time alone—

Well, I spoke too soon.

I stop just inside the doorway to the kitchen and watch as Amara turns to face me, her pale blue eyes piercing straight into mine. Her arms are folded over her chest and her white-blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. I can tell by the way her shoulders are squared and her flaring nose that she’s pissed.

Just fucking great.

“Evie.” The tone of her voice makes it seem like it was painful to say my name. I clench my empty fist at my side. “I need to talk to you.”

“Not interested,” I say. Leaving my book on the island, I walk toward the kitchen sink to place my mug inside. I can see Amara leaning against the counter in my peripheral, her eyes trained on me. “There is nothing for us to talk about.”

“You know very well there is. I saw you with him.”

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