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Something like realization shoots across Felicity’s face, but she quickly resets. “I’ve no idea who you are. Sorry. Can we help?”

“No. I just heard you trash-talking my friend and wanted to call it out, that’s all.”

“Are we really having this conversation?” Felicity retorts, rolling her eyes in my direction.

“Yep. Since you haven’t got your men to defend you this time.” Amie comes to stand alongside her friend. Both pout at us as if waiting for a fight.

I give them both my best unintimidated expression. “I don’t need anyone to fight my battles.”

Amie turns to me, casting her eyes over Zach’s jersey. “Do you want to pose for another side-by-side photo shoot? They could post about who wore it better.”

Another of her friends comes to stand at her other side and hands Amie a glass of something red.

“I think my students have more maturity than you. I’m not interested in your games.” I pause and throw her a sarcastic smile. “Or a social media collaboration.”

Felicity fights back laughter as she takes a sip of her cocktail and waves her hand out in front of her. “Run along now, children.”

“Fucking bitch!”

Red wine hits me straight in the face, soaking into my hair and Zach’s black-and-white Scorpions jersey. I’m stunned into silence and so is most of the bar as people reach for their phones to take footage.

“Bathroom, now!” Felicity pushes past Amie and grabs my hand. She pulls me along as quickly as possible, and luckily, it’s only a few paces before we’re out of sight.Tears prick in thecorners of my eyes as Felicity slams and locks the door behind her.

“Don’t cry, babe. We’ll get you cleaned up and out of here.”

“This is fucking humiliating.”

“The only one who should be ashamed is her.” She furiously points to Amie, who’s no doubt loitering on the other side of the door.

“I can manage,” I say, taking a brush and a pack of tissues out of my bag.

“Here.” She digs into her big bag and pulls out a spare top. “I’m a size bigger than you, but wear this.”

I take the black cami from her and smile. “Thanks. I think this is ruined though, right?” I pull at the hem of the wine-stained jersey.

“She’s a fucking bitch,” my best friend spits, and for a minute, I think her temper has finally snapped as she reaches for the door handle.

“Don’t,” I hurry out.

She turns back to me.

“Don’t give her what she wants: a scene.” I shock myself with my calm tone. Ordinarily, I’d be out there, but thoughts of what that could do to Zach and his career race through my head. He’s dealt with enough of her crap to last him a lifetime.

“Luna?” A familiar voice calls from the other side.

Felicity unlocks the door and pulls it open.

Zach stands on the other side in his post-game dress pants, shirt, and tie. He grips the edges of the door frame above his head tightly and then looks at Felicity, fire swarming in his eyes. He’s pissed. “Who did this to my girlfriend?”

“Who do you think?”

He drops his head between his shoulders. “For fuck’s sake. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. I have a spare top here, and I can put my hair in a bun, and then?—”

“It’s not fine.” He pushes off the frame and stalks into the room, his eyes fixed on me. “It’s not fucking fine. No one treats my girl like this.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Felicity slips out and shuts the door.