Page 22 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

An elbow in my side snaps me out of my daze.

“Right. Sorry.” I nod. “Eli, this is Jeremy. Jeremy, Eli.” I wave my hand between them.

Eli’s brow lifts, his eyes lasering into Jeremy.

Jeremy rushes forward, hand outstretched. “I know who you are, of course. Huge fan. I watched all of your college games.”

Eli’s jaw tics, scowl firmly in place. “Fan of basketball then?”

I laugh. “He’s more than a fan, he’s one of your players.”

Eli stands straighter, pointing to his chest. “My player? What position?”

Jeremy beams. “Point guard. I hope I do you proud.”

“Little tall for a point guard.” Eli rubs his chin. “I think I do remember your face from the roster.” My heart skips when Eli’s eyes meet mine. “How do you two know each other?”

Jeremy reaches behind himself and interlocks our fingers, pulling me into his side. Eli’s stare snaps to our hands, his eyes glinting.

“Becca’s been the other half of me since freshman year,” Jeremy says. I grin up at him because it’s true. He’s the only person besides Lee who’s burrowed his way into my soul, stealing a little piece for himself.

Eli’s shoulders stiffen. “I see. Well, hopefully, she won’t be a distraction. I’d hate to have to remove her because you two can’t keep your hands in check.”

My grin drops, my veins bubbling with anger. Did he just threaten my job?

I thought we’d moved forward. That the days of Eli being a complete prick were behind us, but clearly I was wrong.

He’s still nothing but an asshole.

12

Eli

I’ve only experienced this particular emotion one other time in my life. It was when I was twelve. Pops entered me into a hoops competition over in Nashville, so I was supposed to practice all that week. It was summer break and Pops told me I needed to stay sharp. But there was a new video game all my friends were playing, and for once in my life, I wanted to just be a kid, so I convinced Ma to buy it and not tell Pops. Whenever he was at work that week, I’d hole up in my room, playing that game instead of practicing. Needless to say, I didn’t win the tournament. Some kid beat me by two damn points.

Pops has this way of cutting you with his disappointment—his words sharp as they slice into your skin. He wielded his weapon the entire drive home that day, droning on about how amazing the other kid was. How his parents must be so proud.

That’s when I felt it. The bitter taste of jealousy. But even that doesn’t compare to the lava searing my body at the sight of Becca being manhandled by someone other than me.

I shouldn’t have touched her.

But I couldn’t breathe from not touching her. My precious control snapped into a thousand pieces, shattering on the glossy, maple floor. But it doesn’t matter. I could lose my job if FCU found out.

Has she had a boyfriend this entire time?

It wasn’t like the kiss was planned. We both agreed it was a mistake, so what do I care if she’s with this guy? It’s better this way. Maybe knowing she’s taken will help me keep my distance.

I watch the two of them together, envy punching my stomach and stealing my breath. I grit my teeth against the loss.

Why is he still here?

“You plannin’ on actually workin’ with me today, or are you gettin’ paid to make eyes with your boyfriend?” I snap.

Becca spins toward me, her brows raising for a split second before her face smooths. She runs her palm up Jeremy’s arm.

I grip the basketball in my hands so tight my knuckles turn white. Leaning on her tiptoes, she slides her hands around his neck—those same hands that were in my hair—tugging like she couldn’t get close enough.

I bite my cheek, the tang of blood distracting me from ripping her out of his arms.

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