Page 23 of Possession

I sense him, and as I turn, he’s there. Baxter, his eyes dancing with concern and…something more. “Liv,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Bax

COMING TO THIS banquet was a total mistake. First, everyone tries to make a big damn deal that I’m here with Kevan, like that’s so fucking different than all the years I brought Olive as a friend. So far, coming here with a dude is way easier than bringing Olive. No temptation that I’ll do something I regret. No worries about getting her home safe.

I smiled with all the big money donors and promised to sign autographs after draft weekend. I was feeling all right.

But then Olive shows up looking like sex on heels. I didn’t even know she could look that way. Like…she looks fucking sexy and I don’t like a single thing about it. I don’t like Tim’s arm around her shoulders introducing her to smarmy donors. I don’t like Timnotlooking at her like he wants to lick every inch of her, and I don’t like it when he smiles at her. There’s basically no way for Tim to come out of this alive.

What is wrong with me that I don’t want Olive to be happy? It’s actually not that I don’t want that for her. I just don’t think any of the assholes who have shown interest are good enough for her. Who even is this guy? Tim is frowning across the room at me like he wants to kill me.

Guess the feeling’s mutual.

Bottom line, I’m in Olive’s life, so anyone lucky enough to win her attention better be damn happy to get me in the package deal.

Kevan nudges me and I realize I’m totally tuning everyone out. A few alumni from SCU have ownership shares in different pro teams around the country and Kevan’s got me chatting with some big-shot from Detroit. Only I can’t even concentrate because the last time I stared over at Olive, she looked upset.

Kevan’s talking about today’s game—JT’s thumb is still fucked up so Kevan played the whole time—and he drapes an arm around my shoulders, talking about how many tackles I had in the second half. It’s true. I had a good fucking game. Olive was there the whole time, smiling. Supporting me. Everything clicked. As I slap Kevan on the back, I turn to look for Olive again, wanting to smile at her instead of just glower at her sexy pants. Only there’s nothing happy about what I see.

She looks like she’s about to cry and she’s hurrying across the room. “Excuse me, sir,” I say to the Detroit guy. “My friend seems upset.” I don’t wait to see what he says, just tear off after Olive. I’m pretty sure Kevan is following me, but I don’t care. All that matters right now is making sure Olive is ok. Then I can dismantle whoever gave her that frown.

I catch up to her just as she reaches for the bathroom door. I make contact with her arm and I know it’s going to be fine. I’m here with her now. “Liv,” I say, quietly, hoping to reassure her. “What’s wrong?”

But I don’t get to hear her answer. She shrieks as someone shoves me hard from behind. As I catch my balance, I whip around to see her date, looking glassy-eyed and sloppy. “Fuck you, asshole,” he says, like it’s the first time he’s strung that set of words together. “Fuck you!”

I raise a brow at him. Why the hell ishemad atme?“Fuck me? Fuckme?”I step into his space. He’s about the same height as me, but I’ve got 100 pounds on him, easy. “What in the actual hell is your problem?”

Tim reaches for my lapels and tries to shake me, his face red with fury. “He’smine,”he says. This guy is making zero sense right now and frankly, I don’t even want to fight with him.

I check to make sure Olive is a safe distance away from this guy, and I look over to see she’s sort of backed up against the bathroom door. That’s when Tim draws his arm back to take a swing at me.

The guy wails, “He’s MINE” again as his wild punch glances off my shoulder and he winds up punching the wall, and then he crumples to the floor, writhing in pain.

Before I can make sense of any of this, Kevan curls over Tim, looking at him like—well, like I look at Olive. She’s standing at the end of the hall with her mouth hanging open. “Tim,” Kevan whispers, trying to soothe the swimmer. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

Tim just groans and tries to grab at his right arm, which looks funny inside his suit. He moans and shakes his head, rocking back and forth on the ground. “What did you do,” Kevan asks, his eyes flashing up at me. I just stand there with my palms up.

“He hit me, man, but the sucker punch glanced off. I don’t know. He hit the wall or something.”

I look down and Olive is crouched on the ground beside Tim. She’s running her fingers along his back, along his neck and shoulders. She’s totally calm. Kevan rests his forehead against Tim’s while Olive checks Tim out, and I finally figure out that Kevan and Tim have athing.

Maybe it’s like how Olive and I have athing, but we also don’t. Either way, I can tell my quarterback is really upset that Tim is in pain here.

I squat down. “Olive, tell me what I should do.”

She doesn’t look up, keeps her thumb along a spot on Tim’s shoulder that makes him groan. “He dislocated his shoulder,” she says. “Call an ambulance for me, Bax, ok?”

I stand up to do that, and watch as Olive murmurs to Tim. “I’m going to help you fix this,” she tells him. “But it’s going to hurt, ok?”

I start explaining to the dispatcher that there’s a guy with a dislocated shoulder, that he’s got an athletic trainer with him, and hang up when she says the ambulance is on its way.

I watch Olive get Tim up to a seated position and he wails as she puts his injured arm on his knee. She’s got Kevan helping her support Tim’s back and Kev is chewing on his lip, looking totally grossed out at the way Tim’s arm hangs. Tim’s shoulder is dangling at a gross angle. I’ve seen dislocated shoulders before, but usually the guys are all wearing pads at football, so you can’t tell how wonky the bones look when they’re not in the right place.

Olive braces Tim’s good hand on the bad one on top of Tim’s knee. I crouch down next to her to see if there’s anything I can do, but she shakes her head rapidly, so I back up. Olive starts rocking Tim backwards. I see sweat break out on his forehead, but Olive is totally calm. She nudges Kevan out of the way and rocks Tim back a bit more. I hear an awful sound—part Tim groaning, part his joint moving I guess—and then Tim exhales as I watch his shoulder slide back into place.

“Fuck yeah, Livvy!” I want to give her a high five. That was incredible. I always saw guys getting their arms tugged and snapped to get the joint back in. She just rocked him back and forth like a ball.

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