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“Not exactly.” Brody sighed and turned to Nick, who was still standing. His eyes flickered to me for a split second, just long enough for me to wonder what the hell he was about to do. “But it will be.”

Then he moved. Bursting forward in a sudden flash of violence, he brought his head crashing into Nick’s. Nick staggered back from the headbutt, clutching his nose. Asher was on his feet, and Marcus sprinted across the bar toward us. He crashed into Brody, holding him back from Nick.

“What the hell, Sinclair?! Have you lost your mind?” Asher demanded in a scathing voice. He turned to Winter. “Why don’t you guys go. Tonight is clearly over, and I don’t want you around these fucking idiots.”

Winter nodded and looped an arm around me, steering me past the guys. I glanced back to see Nick finally recovering enough to lunge for Brody.

“Come on. We don’t need to bear witness to that testosterone fest. What’s gotten into Brody?” Winter wondered.

“Who knows? The man is so disciplined and controlled most of the time. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Hmm, something’s got him feeling all kinds of things he doesn’t know how to handle, I guess. It happens to the best of us.” Winter unlocked her car as we approached.

I went around the other side to get in. I stared out the window at the dark street as she drove me home.

That was it, I realized belatedly.

Brody had lost control.

Brody Sinclair had lost control… over me.

Brody

After Nick swung for me,a lumbering move I easily avoided, we were kicked out of the bar.

“You fucker! Ari loves the cocktails at that place, so getting kicked out better not be a permanent thing,” Marcus fumed, stalking up and down the street outside the bar.

Nick leaned against the railing, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” I drawled, never taking my eyes off Nick.

From the moment Marcus had called me earlier and badgered me into going for a drink, I should have known something was up. I’d walked into the bar, saw the group at the table—my eyes drawn to the back of Selena’s head as if she were true north of my fucking internal compass—and I’d understood.

“This is you coming through on date information?” I’d asked Marcus.

He’d just shrugged. “Don’t forget you owe me the party for this. I wouldn’t mind an explanation for why you’re so interested in this date either. I can’t be the team gossip if people don’t tell me things.”

“Pass. There’s no gossip.”

“And yet, you can’t fucking look away,” Marcus had snorted.

I realized he was right. I hadn’t taken my eyes off Selena’s profile. Slowly, I’d ripped my gaze from her and directed it to the stranger at the table.

No. Not a stranger.

Him.

“Who exactly is that guy then, team gossip? Give me the info.”

Marcus had glanced over. “Oh, Nick Preston. He’s on our team, since I guess you haven’t noticed him. He’s a decent player, not sure about as a person. I don’t really know him.”

Nick Preston. The guy who had approached me at my first Hellions party, when I was watching Selena on the dance floor. The one who had called her the campus bike.

Now he was on a date with her?

Hell, no. Not on my watch.

Now, I was outside the bar with a few pissed-off teammates, one of whom looked like he’d love to press charges against me.