Page 55 of Power Play

I step back, and he lets me. His posture is tense, his lips pursed into a thin line. But that’s not what sends me spiraling. It’s the tears streaming down his face, his chest heaving from his erratic breaths.

Turning around, I yank the door open and get inside. Once I’m in the car, I tell Ava to drive. Refusing to look at Clay and his friends and my brother who walked out of the house and probably heard our whole conversation, I keep my gaze on the road ahead.

“You okay?” Ava asks after a few minutes of total silence.

“Yeah. I did what needed to be done. It’s all good,” I lie. “Leading him on when I don’t have any feelings for him is cruel.” Another lie wrecks my heart even more. Battered and bruised, it rages hard inside my chest, trying to escape the agony I put it through.

I broke the heart of the man who loves me to bits…

The man whoIlove to bits…

Because Ava is right.I am a coward.

Chapter 19

Jealous

CLAY

Now, September

“Fuck,”I curse, throwing my controller across the table and away from me. It drives me up the wall that I can’t pass this mission no matter how many times I try. It’s been two fucking days, and I’ve made zero progress.

Standing up from the couch, relentless energy circulates under my skin, poisoning my veins and making me reckless. Good thing I got to play yesterday. We won another preseason game, three to two against Dallas, and it made my day a bit better. Though it was all forgotten the second I stepped into the house and turned on my TV to playCall of Duty. The relief I was looking for didn’t come. My thoughts began their vicious circle in my head, my mind returning to her text over and over and over. So many flirty messages over the last two weeks, and then bam! This one out of nowhere.

She didn’t think it was a good idea, she said, about going out with me. That Maya was her priority. As if I don’t fucking know that. She’s a mom, a single mom, who can only rely on herself when it comes to her little girl. I wanted to change that. I wantedto show her, to prove to her that she can count on me when it comes to them both. But then she sent that text and stopped all communication. Again.

I’m growing tired of her constant push while all I’m trying to do is pull her in.

Someone knocks on the door, and I stop pacing the room. I’m contemplating pretending I’m not home. Who’s here anyway? The knock repeats, and I exhale through my mouth.

Fuck this.

Once the door opens, my eyes meet Dylan’s green ones. She grins at me with her open smile, and firecrackers dance behind her dilated pupils. I lower my gaze to her hands and arch an eyebrow. She’s holding a box of donuts from what looks like Angie’s dessert shop.

She greets me in our usual manner: “Hey, neighbor.”

“Hey, neighbor.” I prop my side against the doorframe, hiding my hands in my pockets. She shifts, her long hair falling over her bare shoulder. She’s wearing a pink crop top and light blue jeans. Today she’s shorter than usual, but that’s because she’s in gold sandals that match her little bag. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I came here to say thank you and give you this.” She extends the box to me. I pull my hands out of my pockets and take the donuts from her. “It’s a new place I recently discovered. Their desserts and pastries are the best. I hope you like donuts.”

“I know the owner. She’s my friend’s fiancée.”

“Really?” Dylan gasps, her lips parting. I nod. “Please tell her that I love her work.”

“Sure.” I chuckle, dropping my gaze to the box. “But what are you thanking me for?”

“For giving me Layla’s number,” she explains nonchalantly. My heart pierces with a familiar pain, the one I’ve been carrying within me for six years. Since she broke up with me. “She totallykilled it! The bouquet she made for me was utter perfection. Sam loved it. When she posted it on her socials, her mutuals started asking about where she got it.” Her silvery laugh fills my ears as her head lolls back. “I need to text Layla and ask for her handle so we can tag her. I’m sure she’ll get a ton of new followers and hopefully some new clients. All because of you.”

“I wanted to help out…a friend.” I shrug, thinking back to Tuesday evening, when I ran into Dylan after I got home from Texas and gave her Layla’s number. “Um, when did you call her?”

“On Wednesday. I called her in the morning, and then I picked up the bouquet on my way to the party.”

A light bulb comes on in my head. My brain connects all the dots, and the picture becomes clear. My lips split into a huge smile as the realization dawns on me.

Fucking hell. She got jealous.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad you liked what she made for you.”