made demands, and every time, I falter, proving who is in control.
“Now!” he mouths with an authority no one his age should have. It’s too much power.
I take a deep breath and move my feet before I can convince myself it’s a horrible idea. Every step I take, I witness someone in the student section fluttering their attention between Marek and me. Anything is better than standing next to my best friend and feeling the hatred rolling off her like waves.
“Whore,” a girl spews as I pass.
Ignoring the mean words is becoming rather easy at this point. I want to yell at them, make them understand I’m not going to him for my own enjoyment. If Delaney is mad at me about something, he’s the reason why.
Marek’s officially gained everyone’s attention. At the bottom step, I scan the area, unsure about how to get onto the field without jumping over the metal barricade between the team and the fans. Marek must see my panic because he gestures for me to go around. At the gate, Breaker stands with the gate wide open.
I still at his side, not bothering to look him in the eyes. “Whatever your game is with Delaney, Breaker . . .”
“Loose lips sink ships, and yours”— Breaker runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth— “sunk the only one that was still in your fleet.”
He shoves his hand into my back, forcing me into the lion’s den. The lock clicks behind me, giving me no choice but to finish this embarrassing and unnecessary walk.
Once I’m in front of Marek, he bites the corner of his lip, tipping his head in this sexy way that has my blood warming, spreading to my cheeks.
“You’re late,” he states, gripping his jersey-covered pads.
“Didn’t know I was being watched.” I shuffle, kicking at the turf.
I could ask him flat out what they did to make Delaney hate me, but I know better. Marek isn’t going to tell me shit. Silence is his best weapon. What he needs me to know is that he had something to do with it.
He bends at the knee, forcing us eye-to-eye. “Let’s get something straight. I’m always watching.”
“What do you need, Marek? I came to the game. That’s all you demanded.” I wave my hand in Delaney’s general direction. “And thanks to you guys, I have damage control to do. Is this the plan, to isolate me more than I already am?”
“You didn’t have to come, Palmer. You do have free will, right?” He ignores the mention of the games I know he’s playing.
“I’m starting to doubt that the more time I spend in your presence.”
“Well, do you see the score?” His eyes flick to the scoreboard and back to me. “We lost the first half because of you.”
“You haven’t lost yet.” How is a tied score a loss or my fault? I shake my head in confusion. “I have no say over your team’s ability to beat these guys.”
“If you aren’t winning and making your opponent wish they were anywhere else except lined up against you, then you’ve lost.” He’s domineering and relentless. Too proud.
“Please, tell me again how this is my fault.” I circle my finger around the field.
Marek jabs his hand at the bleachers, his movements sharp and littered with anger. “You not being in the stands threw my game off.” A voice like his can be so soothing at times, but right now, I’m startled at the pissed-off tone.
“How did you manage to survive every other game before me, huh?” My clenched fists dig into my hips. Standing my ground may be senseless, but I refuse to back down.
“I didn’t know what I was missing then, Palmer.” His aggression is surprisingly replaced with sudden sincerity.
Marek searches my eyes, then leans forward, caressing his lips against mine. I freeze, unsure what he expects from me, after everything.
“What was that for?” I pull back, eyes wide with my unfiltered surprise.
“For showing up, even when it killed you.”
“Whatever, Marek. I don’t live in riddles like you do.” I turn my back and stomp back towards the stands.
A loud clap rings through the stadium, followed by an instant searing pain on my ass cheek. I twist to see Marek shaking the sting out of his hand from the pain he’s inflicted on me.
“Don’t ever let their insecurities masked in beauty make you feel any less than, Palmer.”
How does he know? Could he see my fear and uncertainty of being swallowed up by the crowd? Does he