Chapter 1

1

Ryeson

“ H ey, man, are we still on for the movie tonight?”

Baylor looks up from his phone as I take my seat across from him and I can already see it in his eyes. He’s going to bail on our plans tonight. I wonder what his excuse will be this time. He forgot he had plans with Taya even though we’ve been talking about this for weeks. He’s got a huge project he’s behind on—on account of spending too much time with his girlfriend. His parents expect him home tonight for family dinner because he’s spent the last four nights at Taya’s house. I’ve heard them all lately.

“Baylor!”

My gut tightens up at the sound of her voice. Every time I hear it now, the jealousy runs so fucking deep I’m almost blinded by it. Baylor’s attention shifts to his girlfriend, and our conversation is now over. For the remainder of lunch, he’ll be wrapped up in her.

“Did you not get my text? I told you I wanted you to order me sushi to be delivered for lunch. I just went to the front table, and it wasn’t there.”

The anger trickles down my spine as my teeth clench together, locking my opinion behind my jaw. Since when is it Baylor’s responsibility to get her lunch? They’re not on a fucking date. It’s a normal school day. If she wanted sushi, she should’ve ordered it herself. But I bite my tongue, keeping all my thoughts sealed behind firm lips. It already feels like I’m losing my best friend. I don’t need to put the nails in the coffin just yet.

“Mr. Warksaw took my phone during class,” Baylor tells her. “He told me I couldn’t get it back until lunch so I’m trying to place your order now.”

My jaw clenches even tighter as my eyes narrow in on Bay. Where the fuck did my best friend go? You can’t tell me the pussy is that good for him to become this much of a doormat to the girl. And if he even dares telling me he’s in love with her, I’m going to recommend he get his head checked, because Taya is a snot. She may be pretty and popular and willing to wrap her mouth around his cock anytime he wants it, but she’s a bitch.

“It’s too late now,” she huffs, and I can only imagine her arms crossing over her chest and her chin jutting out in her annoyance. I don’t want to turn around and confirm for myself because I’m liable to put the girl in her place and give her the verbal bitch-slapping she deserves.

“By the time it gets here, lunch will be over. So, what am I supposed to eat?”

We’re in a fucking cafeteria. She can eat whatever the fuck she wants. I think it’s time to remove myself from the table because I can’t fucking listen to this shit anymore. Watching my best friend take it up the ass is making me lose respect for the guy. He was always so fucking fearless and bold, an animal on the football field. Powerful. Dominant. And a fucking warrior on the wrestling mat. But it’s like he’s turned into a pussy. Bending to her every will.

Why the fuck does he put up with her attitude?

“It’s called a fucking lunch line.”

My thoughts clear at the sound of Baylor’s gritted words. His jaw is locked in a rigid line, the pulse ticking fast on the side. Maybe she’s finally pushed him too far. Fingers fucking crossed.

“You can go in there”—he points to the door—“and get whatever the fuck you want. And from now on, order your own damn food.”

There’s a tingle in my dick at the sight of his dark glare. It’s about fucking time he put her in her place. I was beginning to think the girl snatched his balls away from him. Good to see they’re perfectly intact. Now, he should finish off that statement with a breakup. Cut ties with the bitch once and for all.

His eyes shift to mine, ignoring her gasp. I’d give my left nut to look over my shoulder and see her face now, but I’m not interested in fueling the drama. I just want her to go the fuck away and get off Baylor’s jock.

“Yes. We’re still on for the movie,” he says. “What showtimes are left?”

I pull up the movie theater’s website on my phone, checking to see the availability. I wasn’t banking on us going so I didn’t buy tickets. Now it looks like there’s only one showtime left. “Eight fifteen still has a bunch of open seats. Does that work?”

“Yep.” He smirks over my shoulder, obviously using this moment to spite his girlfriend, which kind of pisses me off. Had they not just gotten into a fight, I’d be seeing the movie by myself. “You want to ride together?” he asks. “I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

“Yeah, that works.” And on our way to the theater, I plan on knocking some sense into him. Because he’s clearly too blinded by the sex to see that he’s letting her walk all over him. Hell, if it were me, I’d want my buddies to tell me.