Page 19 of Good Guy Gabe

He’s as yet unrestrained. Protect the quarterback. Take down anyone trying to hurt him. He takes one foolish, arrogant step toward me, putting himself in range for me to dart my hand out before anyone can stop me and grab his shirt to pull him in. “Get fucked, Sinclair,” I yell in his face, and he’s lucky I don’t headbutt his stupid face for good measure.

Reuben manages to grab me by the elbows and pin them behind me, restraining me, and Blaise sees it as an opportunity to clock me. He brings his already-bloody right hand back and swings.

Just as Lin Huang attempts to pull him back.

And gets punched right in the face.

“Oh, you little shit!” Lin hisses and then, despite being the smallest and usually most timid guy on the team, launches himself at Blaise, knocking him to the ground.

Reuben and Kai forget about me as everyone dives in, attempting to separate the two, but both are slippery as eels, on and off the field. I take the opportunity to grab Joss and hustle her out of the venue. We’re halfway to the exit when I hear Blaise bellow, “Barbecue Express, bitches!”

This is a disaster.

Outside, I keep a close hold on Joss while we wait for the valet to bring the car around. A lot of people are standing out here with us. They’re all glaring at me, like they know I was the one who set off the chain of events that ruined the fundraiser.

“Fuck, the fundraiser,” I mutter and dig out my phone.

“It’s okay, everyone can still bid whether they’re here or not,” Joss says. “I’m sure everyone already decided what they want and are tracking.”

“Right, I’m tracking.” I’m already pissed that Blaise had to go so extreme and make it a point to embarrass me in the process. If I lose the quilt, I’ll be livid.

“Oh? What are you tracking?”

I start to tell her what her quilt is going for when I notice the Allores nearby. Good people. Their little one started walking a few weeks ago so they never hang out at the Jug House where several of us single guys live, but I’m Uncle Gabe to baby Shelby. Hell, I’m babysitter #3 after his parents and the Moraleses.

I’ve nearly forgotten the way they seemed to give me the cold shoulder inside. I’m sure I misread it. Keira talks constantly about hooking me up with one of the cheerleaders she manages. I always laugh it off because I don’t want them to be disappointed that it’s not one of the younger, more attractive guys. I’m sure she’s happy I brought a legitimate date.

But her scowl says otherwise. The look on Evan’s face after she whispers something to him and then pushes him toward me confirms it.

He looks between us as he approaches, scratches the back of his burgundy mohawk, laughs awkwardly. Evan’s not a nervous guy by nature. If I’m being honest, he’s usually too dumb to know when he should be worried. But there’s a wobble in his voice when he says, “Hey, big guy. Mind a quick bro-to-bro chat?”

My side cools as Joss shrinks away from it.

I don’t care that what we know about each other is casual anecdotes shared over pizza and wings or that to everyone else,it looks like I’m desperate and clinging to the first pretty girl who would give me the time of day. She’s made me happy today, and it’s been a very, very long time since I’ve been this excited to find out where things might go.

I reach out to pull Joss right back to my side. “You wanna say something, say it.”

Evan’s a big guy for his position, but he’s not as big as me. It’s not mass so much as momentum that he relies on. This close, there’s no contest.

But he looks back at Keira, and she gives him this bitchy little mean girl pout that just about sets me off, and it’s enough for him to brave it. “Listen, Shaunessy, I get that you’re new to Wilmington, and I’m sure you’re a real nice lady, Miss Edgars, but—”

“It’s Page now, Joss Page,” she says so softly that I doubt Allore can even hear her.

And I don’t like that. She’s so intimidated that she’s not even comfortable correcting her name? Fuck that.

Evan scowls, his thick eyebrows dropping low, but I know that face enough to know he’s not mad, he’s trapped. “With all due respect, ma’am—”

I cut him off right there because I know exactly where a phrase like that goes. I step in and take hold of his shirt so he can’t back away. My left eye is momentarily blinded by a cellphone flash. “Youwilltreat her with all due respect. What happened in the past is in the past. I don’t fucking care—”

“I don’t want you to be hurt!”

There are several cameras turned our way now. We’re gonna be lucky if this doesn’t make it to SportsCenter. Evan is thesecond-highest-paid safety in the league. This is definitely going to be in the gossip rags’ sports sections within the hour.

“Then you either apologize to Joss for whatever you were thinking about saying or you go the fuck away.”

He swallows and looks to Joss, has the audacity to lead with, “I’m sorry, Miss . . . Miss Page, but my wife’s best friend was one of your husband’s victims.”

Victims.

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