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Her reassurance doesn’t kill my worry. Then I look at Brad behind her—he’s still on the steps, looking like he has no clue what just happened—and my worry curdles into anger.

“What the fuck, White?” I spit, taking a step toward him. “You just pushed her down the steps!”

“Shh. It was an accident.” Ruby tries to take my arm, but I jerk free.

I take another step toward him, my muscles tense and burning to grab him by that stupid fucking collared shirt he’s wearing and knock his teeth out.

She might not be my girl, but Ruby’s always been mine to protect.

And no man is changing that. But she grabs me again, and a couple of my teammates materialize, sensing trouble.

Cam catches my eye, and the surprise on his face—I’m not a fighter—makes me step back.

“Fucking dumbass,” I say with a final glare at Brad, and it seems to snap him out of his stupor.

“Sorry, Ruby,” he mumbles, sounding dazed. “I’m sorry.”

I turn around to meet Ruby’s tense face. She slides her hands off me, but I’m quick to take her arm as she retreats a few steps. “Can you walk okay?” I ask quietly.

“I’m fine , Lorenzo. Jeez, it was like two steps.”

I try to guide her into the yard toward a chair, wanting to comfort her or maybe just wanting her to want me to comfort her. But she pulls away.

“Stop, okay? Just relax. You’re making it more embarrassing,” she says in a hushed voice before she turns back to Brad.

I watch as she and a couple of other people help get Brad steady on his feet, everyone relaxing into smiles and laughter over the whole scene. Except for me.

A hand claps me on the back. “She’s fine, dude,” Reeve says, following my gaze as I stand staring at her.

“Did you see what he just did?”

“Yeah, dude can’t hold his liquor.”

“He knocked her down the stairs.”

“He’s not slick, is he?” He shrugs. “But it was an accident.”

“I know that,” I snap. “But he shouldn’t be shit-faced when he’s with her.”

Reeve gives me a Come on, man smile. “I think you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumble. “I’m too protective.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

“What does that mean?” I snap.

Reeve’s calm, knowing smile pisses me off. “I don’t blame you if you’re jealous.”

“She’s my friend,” I say defensively. Yeah, I know I look jealous, and maybe I am, but that’s not all it is.

Decent guy or not, I don’t like Brad for Ruby.

And I’m annoyed seeing her attach herself to yet another guy who can’t take care of her.

I might not have my shit together, but I would never have let that happen to a girl I’m with.

I want to leave so I don’t have to witness all the other ways he’s going to fail her, but this is my last chance to hang with Cam, so I stick around and try to enjoy myself. Though I’m careful not to look her way.

A little while later, she finds me in the yard, leaning against the deck railing and staring at the campfire. She holds out a paper plate half filled with pita chips and her trio of dips.

“I snagged you the last of it.”

I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” She scoops up a generous dollop of whipped feta and pops it into her mouth.

I ignore her trying to be cute and instead watch the fire.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I grumble.

“Yeah, right. You haven’t been this grouchy since the supermarket ran out of boneless, skinless chicken breasts.”

I give her a hard look. “That never happened.”

“It’s called a joke. Which you would have gotten if you weren’t determined to be in a bad mood. What’s going on?”

“I said nothing.”

She gives me a sympathetic look I don’t care for. “You’re getting nervous about surgery?”

“That’s not it.” I can’t wait for surgery. If I had my way, I’d be driving to the hospital right now to get started.

“Well, obviously it’s something.” She waits for a response, but I give her nothing. “Should I just stop asking?”

“Please.” The fire pops, sending out a little shower of embers, and I throw out an arm in front of her body.

“So Tuesday ... they still want you there at six a.m. for surgery? Pick you up at five thirty?”

“If you can still swing it.”

She tugs her T-shirt up her shoulder, hiding her bra strap. “Of course.”

“You talked to your boss?”

“Yup,” she says a little too quickly.

I watch her, waiting. There’s obviously more to it.

“Yes, okay? I talked to him.” Then, seeing my expression, she adds, “In my head.”

“Ruby!”

“I have it all rehearsed, don’t worry. It’ll work out.”

I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t have accepted her offer to take care of me. “You don’t need to do this if it’s too much.”

“It’s not too much! I can handle this, Lorenzo, all right? Let me do it without checking in on my progress every step of the way.”

I throw up my hands. “Fine.” We exchange a brief glare, then lapse into silence, mine a guilty one.

I didn’t mean to imply she can’t handle caring for me.

I look at her to see whether she’s still mad, but her expression is calm as she watches the people in the yard.

Then I catch the unmistakable way her eyes flare with interest when her gaze lands on Brad.

“Your boy really fucked up back there,” I find myself saying.

Her eyes are back on me, brows drawn together. “Huh?”

“Knocking you down the steps? Ring any bells?”

“It was an accident, Lorenzo,” she huffs. “And like you’ve never gotten a little too drunk?”

“Did I ever hurt you when I got a little too drunk?”

She laughs. “I’m not hurt!”

“Yeah. Tell that to the blood dripping down your leg.”

She looks down at her bare legs. A tiny line of bright-red blood trickles from her knee down her calf.

There’s a beat of silence, and I can sense her surprise.

But when she looks up at me, her expression shows only irritation.

“You’re right, I should probably call an ambulance for this one.

Might even need a blood transfusion. I just hope someone here is my type. ”

“You could do better, Ruby. That’s all I’m saying.”

“No, that’s not all you’re saying.”

I swallow as something hot and uncomfortable surfaces inside me again. “Then what am I saying?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” She glances over at Brad, who’s leaning unsteadily against the drink table, then lowers her voice.

“You’ve never been an asshole before when I dated guys you didn’t like.

I don’t know what your problem is all of a sudden.

” Her chestnut-brown eyes lock on mine, blazing with intensity and demanding an answer to the question she didn’t ask.

I have to look away. I know why I’ve been acting this way: I’m jealous.

Completely jealous. So much that it makes every muscle in my body lock up tight.

Of the way she looks at Brad, of the way she touches him, of how happy she is just to be in the same room with some douchebag who doesn’t even know how out of his league she is.

I can’t stand being the second-most-important guy in the room to her. All I have to do is tell her.

“Ruby.” When I say her name, she leans closer a tiny, almost-imperceptible bit, like maybe she knows what I’m about to say and doesn’t want to miss it.

But the words die in my throat. What am I even trying to accomplish?

Ruining things for her? She’s been so happy all night—happy with him. And I’m mad at her for it.

I’m an asshole.

“Never mind.”

She stares at me, ready to hang on every word.

“I’m sorry.” I watch her eyes soften as guilt courses through me.

I could easily get Brad out of her life if I really wanted to; that’s how much power I have.

And I do, but I can’t do that to her. I blew my chance with Ruby a long time ago, and I can’t ruin this thing with Brad just because every time I see them together, regret cuts through me so sharply I want to punch him. That shouldn’t be her problem.

Ruby drops her gaze and sinks down onto the deck stairs. I follow and we’re quiet. It’s over. She starts to wrap her hands around her legs, then pulls away when her finger touches blood.

“Here.” I fold up the hem of my T-shirt and lean close to her, using the clean side to dab the blood.

The heat of the night has intensified the summery, coconut scent that clings to her all year round.

My knuckles brush the smooth skin on the inside of her calf.

Brad should care that I’m touching her like this, but apparently he doesn’t.

Ruby’s eyes are down, watching my hand clean away the blood.

Maybe if the little things like this don’t have to change, I can handle her falling in love. I can put her happiness first even if it’s Brad making her happy. He’ll never be good enough for her, but then nobody ever will.