Chapter Thirteen
1071 Words
Whispers of Tyler’s name follow me as soon as I step on school grounds, and it doesn’t take me long to find out why.
“He played like s**t at the last scrimmage,” one of the students huddled near the lockers says. “Coach was pissed.”
“I heard college scouts were there,” another whispers, wide-eyed. “He’s definitely getting replaced for sure.”
My heart sinks as I tighten my hands around the strap of my bag and keep walking. Between Maya’s teasing last night and the memory of Tyler’s touch, I barely slept. And now this?
The thought of Tyler getting replaced leaves me feeling unsettled. He’s already spiraling from the pressure of the game; I wonder what losing football will do to him.
And his father… I shudder, pushing the thought of the stoic man out of my mind.
I’m halfway to my locker, when someone slams into me, causing the books in my hand to slip and scatter across the floor.
“Watch it,” a voice drawls.
My head snaps up in recognition. Oh, what crime did I commit to deserve being on Jake Holland’s radar?
The smirking jerk doesn’t even pretend it was an accident. He just stands there with a helmet tucked under his arm even though it’s barely the first period.
“Didn’t see you there,” he says, even though we both know he clearly did.
Ignoring him, I crouch to gather my books. To my increasing annoyance, he moves his feet and I barely move my hand in time to avoid it getting crushed by his boots.
“Don’t take the bait, Lila,” I chant inwardly.
“Careful,” he continues casually. “Wouldn’t want Tyler’s little plaything getting hurt.”
Heat crawls up my neck. Screw it. “I’m not his anything,” I snap, shoving my notebook into my bag.
Jake raises a brow, then crouches far too close for comfort. “You sure? You’re at his house all the time.”
How on earth does he know? “I babysit his siblings.”
“Yeah?” His grin widens. “You can babysit me too.”
My stomach turns. “I’d rather not.”
He chuckles, like I’ve just told a joke. “Relax. If Tyler loses QB1, someone’s gotta fill the position,” he says confidently, and it becomes increasingly clear who spread the rumor of Tyler getting replaced. His gaze drags over me in a way that makes my skin prickle. “On and off the field.”
I stand quickly, putting a lot of distance between us. “You’re disgusting.”
But he simply follows me. “And you’re available,” he counters smoothly. “Unless you think you’re exclusive property.”
“I’m not property,” I say, my voice shaking despite my effort to sound sure.
He leans closer. “You could be mine,” he winks.
The hallway noise seems to dim around us, or maybe it’s just my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Step away from her.”
Great, now I’m hearing things because there’s no way that was…
Jake smirks like he’s been waiting for this. “Speak of the fallen king,” he says lazily, rising to his feet.
Even without looking up right away, I feel Tyler’s presence. Tension radiates off him like heat from asphalt. When I finally glance up, his jaw is set so tight it looks painful.
His eyes aren’t just angry, they’re volatile. “What did you say to her?” Tyler asks.
Jake shrugs. “We were just having a conversation.”
“Didn’t look like one.”
“Jealous?” Jake tilts his head. “I thought you had bigger fish to fry. I heard from your adoring fans that Coach isn’t really happy with your performance these days. I wonder what dear Daddy thinks about that.”
A ripple goes through the small crowd that has started forming, and people lift their phone discreetly.
Tyler takes one step forward, and Jake mirrors it without hesitation.
“You want to repeat what you said to her?” Tyler’s voice is low, and I brace myself for what I already know is coming.
Jake’s grin fades a fraction. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll make you.”
“Tyler,” I jump to my feet and grab his arm.
His muscles are rigid under my fingers, and to my horror, he shrugs off my hand. “Don’t touch me,” he growls, keeping his eyes locked on Jake.
Mortified, I pull back, pressing against the lockers until I might as well be a part of it.
Jake snickers loudly. “You’re going to throw a punch for a girl you don’t even want touching you? That’s real mature, QB1.”
“Shut up.”
“Or what? You’ll lose your spot faster?”
Tyler lunges.
It happens so fast that I barely register it. He shifts suddenly, leaping forward, and a collective gasp fills the hallway when he shoves Jake hard in the chest.
Jake stumbles back but recovers quickly, dropping his helmet with a clatter. “Do it,” he taunts. “Hit me.”
Tyler’s fist clenches.
“Enough!” Coach Harris’ voice booms down the hallway, and the crowd parts instantly.
Coach storms toward us, whistle swinging from his neck as he takes in the scene in one sweeping glance. Jake is squared up, Tyler is breathing hard, and I’m caught in between them.
“What is going on?” he demands.
No one answers.
“Tyler.” The disappointment in his tone is somehow worse than yelling.
Tyler steps back. “He was harassing her.”
Coach’s gaze flicks to me briefly, then back to the boys. “Is that true?” he asks Jake.
Jake shrugs. “We were just talking.”
Coach looks unconvinced but turns to Tyler anyway. “And you thought shoving him was the solution?”
Tyler doesn’t respond.
“That’s what I thought.” Coach’s voice sharpens. “You’re supposed to be a leader. One more strike and you’re out; I mean it.”
Jake’s eyes gleam.
“Both of you,” Coach continues, “My office. Now.”
Whispers erupt as they walk away, and I stand frozen in the hallway with a hammering heart.
Tyler’s career is at risk, and it is all my fault.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD