"Sure."
"You don’tbecomean asshole. You’re either an asshole or not."
"Did he do something to you? Why are you hating on him so much?"
Oh, yes, he did. He stole the girl I’m interested in from me before I even knew she existed. That’s what he did. But I don’t say it out loud. I have a feeling that getting too pushy with Wendy will only have an adverse effect. "I don’t like guys like him is all," I admit instead. "Guys who don’t respect women."
"And you’re what? Mr. Saint?"
"Yep. I’m the only saint in my band."
"The tour name must be wrong then.A Saint & Sinners,notSaints & Sinners."
I chuckle at that. "I’ll tell our management."
Slowly, deliberately, she takes a single step forward. "You do that, Cruz." Her eyes blaze with a hidden challenge, daring me to cross the line we've been toeing all night.
I realize that despite our little squabble a few minutes ago, we’re drawn to each other like two stars caught in a gravitational dance. The air around us trembles with a tension so thick, I can hardly breathe.
But before I can do something reckless, before I can say something I can’t take back, the moment shatters.
"What the fuck is this?"
Jett's garbled voice cracks from afar. I turn to the sound of him trudging through the grass. My heart thunders against my ribcage as he stalks toward us, his eyes glassy and filled with rage.
And I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that things are about to get a whole lot worse.
"What the fuck is this, huh?"
Jett stumbles closer, his movements unsteady but his fury unmistakable. "I fuckin' knew it. Knew you were sniffing around other dudes, you whore."
I take a step forward, placing myself between him and Wendy. My hands flex at my sides, ready for whatever comes next.
"It's not like that, man. We were just talking."
My attempt at de-escalation falls on deaf ears. Jett's face twists into an ugly sneer, his eyes darting between Wendy and me.
"Talking? Is that what you call it? Looked more like you were about to shove your tongue down her throat."
Beside me, Wendy flinches, and a surge of protectiveness floods my veins. I meet Jett's furious gaze head-on. "Watch yourmouth. You're drunk, and you're being an asshole. Why don't you walk it off before you do something stupid?"
A harsh, humorless laugh rips from Jett's throat. "Oh, I'm the asshole? That's rich coming from the guy trying to steal my girlfriend."
He takes another unsteady step forward, jabbing a finger in my direction. "I'm warning you, Velez. Stay the fuck away from her, or I swear to God, I'll?—"
"You'll what, Jett?" Wendy asks sharply, her chin lifted in challenge. "You don't get to tell me who I can and can't talk to. I already told you I’m not your goddamn property."
Jett's eyes narrow. "Shut up, babe. Just shut up. This isn't about you."
"The hell it isn't!" she fires back, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm so sick of your jealous, controlling bullshit. I can't have a conversation without you losing your mind."
I stay silent, a quiet pillar of support as Wendy stands her ground. I know that if I hijack the situation, she’ll be pissed, and for some reason, I don’t want her to be mad at me.
Jett's face darkens, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "You." He drives his fist toward my face but never actually touches me. "If I see you anywhere near my girl again, I’ll break your fucking neck."
"We're leaving. Now." Wendy grabs Jett’s hand before I can react with a response of my own. She offers me a small, apologetic smile before dragging her drunk boyfriend out of my sight.
As they walk away, Jett's arm possessively drapes over Wendy's shoulders.
