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On the way home, regret settles in. I was jealous and possessive, and I let my temper go unchecked. I don’t want her around Kyle, that’s a given. Yet, I can’t help feeling envious of her unwavering devotion to Jax and her fierce determination to protect him.
It’s almost hilarious how much of an idiot I am.
I doubt Aurora is laughing right about now.
40
ETHAN
By the timeI get to the arena, I taste acid on my tongue, my stomach in knots, as if a snake is slithering inside.
Briefly, I worry I may have food poisoning. Doubt it. I didn’t eat more than a few bites this morning. Maybe it’s a stroke or a heart attack. There’s no other rational explanation for feeling like death pissed in my veins.
It’s impossible to concentrate on getting ready for the game. I can’t think about anything other than how I let my fear and jealousy control me. I lost my head for five fucking seconds, ran my mouth as I always do when I’m in a panic, and now, I’m going to pay for it.
I tap my pen on my desk and rack my brain.
Aurora would forgive Jax immediately, but that’s not how she and I operate. We verbally spar.
And then, it hits me.
She doesn’t want another Jackson, you idiot.No one could put up with two jealous hotheads. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop focusing ontheirrelationship and consider the dynamics ofallof us.
I reach for my phone, the compulsion for her stronger than my pride and this apparent stroke I’m having, and text Jax to bring me our girl.
He responds with a saluting emoji, no sarcastic remark, filling me further with dread.
I have two offices in this building. Today, I’m working within the locker rooms, and I sense Jackson’s presence when the lull of conversation among training staff comes to a halt.
“Hey, man!” I hear Grant call out. “What are you doing here?”
Grant is the first player to arrive each day. Today, he’s the only one here. I swear, he’s a lost puppy without Jax.
I glance up from the financial sheets I’ve been absentmindedly examining, and my heart skips a beat when Aurora appears. She’s wearing an oversized sweaterthingthat shows off her bare, tanned thighs and her favorite Converse.
“Coach is in a mood,” says my captain, a smug smile plastered on his face. “Got into a fight with his girlfriend and has me playing wingman.”
Aurora slaps his stomach, and he laughs.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses her forehead. “You know where he is if you want to see him.”
Byhim, he means me.
Jackson gives Grant a nod toward the door, and he juts his chin in understanding.
Our girl hesitates, her gaze following her boyfriend, and for a moment, I think she’s going to leave with him.
“Aurora, my favorite team wife.” Grant wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, distracting her.
“I’m not a wife.” She shoves playfully at his chest.
“Semantics,” he teases. “Can I touch our next superstar?”
He hovers over her belly, and irritation boils in my veins.
“No, you cannot,” I yell out. “Not unless you’d like to be benched.”
He retracts his hand. “Is he being serious?” he pretends to whisper. “Doesn’t he know you belong to the team?”