Page 109 of American Beauty

A muscle tics in his jaw, the first sign he’s beginning to piece it together—and he doesn’t like where it’s leading. “So you’re saying?—”

I cut him off before he can try to twist my words. “Like I said… things have changed.”

His jaw clenches so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t shatter.

He shakes his head, as if he can will my words away, rewrite them into something else, something that doesn’t rip his hope to shreds.

But it’s too late. He’s lost. And he knows it.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

I shake my head. “I’m not. Not even a little.”

His bruised and swollen face twists with frustration. “So that’s it? Sebring gets the girl? He wins again?”

“It was never a competition between you and Alex. I am his. I have been from the moment we met.”

Before Tyson can respond, a familiar presence sends a shiver down my spine. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and I swear I sense the shift in the air before I even turn.

Alex.

I jolt, my pulse spiking as I glance toward the doorway. He’s standing there, broad shoulders rigid, dark eyes locked on Tyson with a look so sharp it could slice through steel.

Shit. This is about to go downhill fast.

Alex steps forward, his voice dripping with irritation. “Jesus Christ, McRae. You’re like a fucking pest that won’t go away. “

His swollen lips curve into a smirk. “It’s not in my DNA to give up on something I want. And I want her.”

“Did you not take that ass beating as a hint to leave us the hell alone?”

“You call that an ass beating?”

“Have you seen your face, motherfucker?”

Alex’s body is taut, like a predator just waiting for an excuse to strike.

The image of last night’s fight flashes in my mind—Alex and Tyson colliding like wrecking balls, turning my living room into a war zone. Bruised knuckles, shattered furniture, and enough testosterone to fuel an entire action movie.

Now they’re standing here again, tension thick enough to choke on.

“Please don’t destroy my office.”

Alex doesn’t take his eyes off Tyson. His voice is calm, but the threat beneath it is razor sharp. “Don’t worry, love. We won’t wreck the place.”

I have my doubts. The way his hands flex at his sides tells me he’s one wrong word away from doing exactly that.

Tyson turns his attention to me. “We still need to discuss the hotel.”

Alex steps in front of me, a human shield between me and Tyson. “Forget it. Magnolia won’t be working with you anymore.”

Tyson whirls around, pointing his finger at Alex. “Shut up. You don’t get a fucking say in our business arrangement.”

Alex steps out of the way. “It’s your business, babe. Handle it.”

I square my shoulders, lifting my chin. “I won’t be moving forward on the project with you. You’ve shown me who you are. I refuse to do business with someone I can’t trust.”

“You have to. We have a binding agreement. You’re obligated.”

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