Page 73 of Endgame

I’ve never been a violent woman, but she’s out of her freaking mind if she thinks she can get handsy with my man.

I’ve reached the point of no return. This feeling is so unlike me right now, yet I can’t find it in me to give a flying shit.

He’s not my man—at least notyet. But she doesn’t need to know that.

I’ll sit back and cut daggers her way. Surely, she’ll eventually catch on to the toddler in the corner of the boat claiming Callaway.

I’m kicking myself for not taking sooner what I very clearly want. Although now that I have Navy’s official blessing, if you will, I’m feeling a little more territorial over my future with Callaway, and I’m willing to do anything and everything to have it.

He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying her company, but he’s undoubtedly not pushing her away.

My anger must read like a skull without its crossbones.

“Oh, my goodness, you are hilarious, Cal.Sports Illustratedis so lucky to work with someone as handsome and talented as you.”

Gag me.

I wonder if anyone would notice if I pushed her overboard.

I bet she even looks perfect sopping wet and covered in seaweed.

Let’s test it and find out.

His deep chuckling makes my stomach plummet.

I hate this feeling. I am not this woman. I’ve never been the jealous type or compared myself to other women. I’m a “girl’s girl” through and through, but where Callaway is concerned, I don’t seem to do anything I typically would. Maybe I should take this as my sign that this will never work. We live entirely different lives. He’s the professional baseballplayer who datesSports Illustratedmodels, and I’m the photographer who takes the photos.

We don’t make sense.

But he’s slowly becomeeverythingto me, and I’m finally feeling at a place where I know I deserve good things.

I want him in every way imaginable.

As if he senses me watching their encounter, Callaway raises his brows in my direction and runs his thumb across his bottom lip. The action causes Angela to follow his attention.

It’s me bitch.

She gives me a once over, almost immediately dismissing me.

Callaway must notice her dismissal because, seconds later, he interrupts her babbling. “Angela, have you met our beautiful photographer, Dakota? The Strikers wouldn’t have received this opportunity if it weren’t for her talent.” He’s pointing at me, and I’m blushing through my inner rage. “So how about we keep this thing professional, and you keep your hands to yourself?”

He stood up for me in front of a handful of his teammates and a supermodel.

He cares. How could anyone not fall for this man?

The other guys silently chuckle, and I take that as a sign of their advocating for me.

From rage to full heart. I’m perfectly normal.

Expecting Angela to take Callaway’s rejection harshly, she takes it in stride, pushing her overdone chest out. “Whatever you say, Cal.”

Cal?Like they’re on comfortable enough terms to use his nickname.

Her conniving smile sends cold-blooded chills coursing through my body.

How serious arethe consequences of hitting someone in the face with a sunscreen bottle and causing serious damage?

I’m asking for a friend.