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A hand falls on my upper arm, maneuvering me around to face him.

“What do you want, Tyler?” My voice is full of exasperation as I thumb over my shoulder. “I have a drink waiting for me.”

He shakes his head. “Is it true?”

I look down at the floor, tired of seeing the anger in his eyes. “Is what?”

“Morgan? Is it true you’re dating Morgan?”

“Well, I’m here with him, aren’t I?”

Tyler’s hand is still on my arm, and I pull it back to break free, but he tightens his grasp around me.

“And can you let go of me, please?”

He ignores my protest. “Why are you playing games with me, Kendra? Is this all about making me jealous, huh?”

I pull away again, but his grip tightens even further. “I’d have to care to want to make you jealous. The only thing I want right now is for you to get off me!”

The Blades captain, Sawyer Bryce, approaches Tyler from behind and pulls him away.

And that’s when I see Jack. With a face of thunder.

“Don’t, Jack. Remember what I said,” Sawyer shouts after him.

I’m motionless as Jack stalks past Tyler and heads straight for me. His eyes fall to my upper arm before returning to mine.

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches out and takes my hand in his, and as he guides me back to the function area, he briefly pulls up alongside Tyler. “That’s the last time you’ll ever get to look at my girl, let alone touch her.”

Jack doesn’t stop walking until we reach the bar at the back of the main room.

Two glasses of untouched prosecco sit on a black tray, and he reaches out and passes me one.

I take a sip and try to steady my emotions, although I know I’m doing a better job of managing them than Jack.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks in a clipped voice.

I shake my head and take another sip as I notice Tyler enter the room with Sawyer hot on his heels. “No.”

“Your arm is covered in red marks.”

Jack gently traces them with his thumb. “What did he say to you?”

I look up at him. “That I’m playing games with him and trying to make him jealous. That he knows this is all fake.”

Jack breathes out slowly, and as a few strands of hair fall over his blue eyes, he shifts his attention from the marks to my face. There’s nothing but serenity in the way he looks at me. “Are you trying to make him jealous?”

“No. I want him to leave me alone,” I whisper, my senses alive with anticipation.

“Are you still in love with him?”

“No,” I repeat.

Taking my drink in his other hand, he sets it on the bar next to him and then turns back to me.

The hand stroking my arm comes under my chin, demanding all my attention.

But he already has it.