Page 5 of A Little Jaded

Ignoring Everett, my eyes plead with Drake, though I doubt he notices, thanks to my sunglasses. “Drake?—”

“Raine,” Everett interrupts. “Are. You. Okay?”

Bringing us nose to nose, Drake ignores Everett and grits out, “He knowsyou.” The darkness in his eyes burns a hole in the pit of my stomach until he stands up straight, as if only now remembering his white knight act we both know is a lie.

But the lie isn’t for me.

It’s for Everett.

And it makes me hate Drake even more.

I don’t know Everett. Not personally, anyway. I’ve seen him once or twice when Drake’s team played LAU, but otherwise, I don’t know anything about him. To say I was freaking flabbergasted when Reeves disappeared into the locker room only to drag his replacement out? Hisshirtlessreplacement? Well, let’s just say my libido’s been on the fritz for a while now, yet all it took was ten seconds in Everett’s vicinity to know the girl’s still alive and well, no thanks to my boyfriend.

Hooking his arm over my shoulder, Drake asks, “So, how long have you known my girlfriend?”

“He doesn’t,” I start.

“About three months,” Everett lies.

“Three months?” Drake repeats thoughtfully. He bends down, moving into my line of sight again. “You hear that, Raine? Three months.”

“He’s lying,” I argue. “We met a few minutes ago. I was looking for the men’s locker room, ran into him, and asked for directions.”

“Just met, huh?” Lifting his head again, he turns to Everett. “You lyin’, man?”

Everett shakes his head. “What’s there to lie about?”

Drake’s full lips flatten as he studies Everett. I wonder if he notices how attractive the guy is. If he can practically taste Everett’s pheromones the way I can. The way every girl in the vicinity could if they were in my position. If they were a few feet away from a hockey god like Everett. Yeah. I might not have met Everett until today, but I’ve heard plenty, thanks to Drake’s late-night ramblings. Drake is competitive with everyone. People with actual talent? Drake’s a goner. I have no doubt if I did wind up dating someone like Everett and Drake found out, he’d be… I don’t even want to know.

It’s strange, though. Seeing them side by side. Where Drake is all brawn, Everett’s more toned. Leaner, maybe. His legs are longer, too, even though they’re matched for height, making Drake look almost imbalanced with how long his torso is. Regardless, it only makes their staredown more tangible. More intimidating. Where Drake’s hair is cropped short in a buzz, Everett’s is longer on the sides. More black, less brown. Straighter, too. Everett’s jaw is sharper, his nose less crooked. I’ve never minded Drake’s nose. It’s been broken so many times I used to find it charming. The thought is laughable now. Or it would be if I wasn’t so worried a fight’s about to break out.

The question is, does Drake believe me or Everett? Does he really think I’d sneak around behind his back? Especially for three months? Before he hit me, I’d say no. Not a chance. Since then? Well, things have been precarious at best.

As if Drake can read my mind, his focus snaps to me, then back to Everett. “Look, here’s the truth. I’m in a bad moodafter today’s game, you know? After those bullshit calls, and?—”

Everett’s scoff cuts him off.

Drake moves closer to Everett, and my adrenaline spikes.

Way to piss off the bull, Everett.

I know this side of Drake. The hotheaded side. The let’s-go-out-back-and-sort-this-shit-out-like-men side. The macho-man, pound-your-fists-against-your-chest side. The short fuse side. Granted, Drake’s always had a short fuse, but after a loss like tonight? Let’s just say I know he’s already close to the edge. All he needs is a little push, and I really don’t want Everett to be the one to tip him over.

“Drake, let’s go home,” I offer.

He lifts his hand behind his back, showing me his palm and warning me to stay out of this, but doesn’t bother facing me. Instead, his entire focus is on Everett and only Everett. “You think you won fair and square?”

“I think the refs did their job to make it a fair game, yeah.”

“And I think you should stay the fuck away from my girl.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be your girl anymore,” Everett argues.

Shit.

Read the room, you idiot!

A knot forms in my stomach, and my breathing grows shallow because Everett has no idea what he just said or how badly I might pay the consequences for it. If he honestly thinks he’s helping me right now, he’s even more dense than I thought. It confirms my decision to leave him out of this. If only he’d take the hint.

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