Jaded (Jaded #1)

I noticed that Chet stood up, along with a bunch of other guys in the room.

Chet was good friends with Bryce and Corrigan, but he was also on the football team with Chad. In fact, a lot of the guys that stood up were football players. I wasn’t sure if it mattered because the male dominance placed Bryce and Corrigan at the top, but Chad was just below him.

This might’ve been a showdown to change the social status and Chad might’ve chosen me to be that symbol.

“You don’t want to do this,” I said smoothly, calm.

In the back we could hear a moan. Corrigan chuckled and hushed her.

“Do what?” Chad asked, feigning innocence.

“What I think you’re doing,” I said firmly.

Chet stepped closer and said quietly, “Leave her alone, Yerling.”

Chad narrowed his eyes at him and asked, softly, eerily, “From what? I’m not doing anything. I’m just standing here.”

Chet came to stand behind me.

He grabbed my elbow and moved in front. He warned, softly, “Step back, Yerling.”

“What? You’re going to escort her out? All safe-like and be her knight in shining armor?” Chad taunted. I saw the malice in his eyes and instead of a shiver, I stood at my tallest height.

Two more guys moved around behind Chad, Tatum and Holster. They were both football players, but they were loyal to Chet first. A part of me was relieved.

That pissed me off. I shouldn’t need to be relieved at the sight of these guys, not here, not in my territory.

Chet prompted me forward and out the door.

Once outside, he asked tightly, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I bit out, my jaw tense.

Tatum had followed us outside, but we all looked and saw that Holster remained inside, right beside Chad.

“What the hell was that?” I clipped out.

“I don’t know,” Chet murmured, tiredly, as he continued to hold Chad’s stare through the diner’s windows.

“I’m thinking you do.” I raked my eyes over his face and saw I was correct.

Chet glanced at me, studied me, and then relented, “Chad’s been…a loose cannon lately.”

“He hit on me and I turned him down.”

Chet bit back a grin and guessed, “You humiliated him.”

“No.” I had, but he’d chosen the when and where. That wasn’t on me.

“Great, well…I don’t think it matters. He’s had his eye on you since eighth grade.

Just…be careful, okay? Tell Bryce about this.”

I nodded mutely and climbed into my car. Instead of going to the pool hall with Corrigan, I turned around the back door of the kitchen and got out to put the beer inside.

And then I headed home, alone.

I was home for another hour before I heard my doorbell ring again. I knew Bryce would probably stop over, but I had locked the doors anyway.

When I got to the door, I saw Corrigan outside, jumping up and down.

“Hey.” I opened the door.

He brushed past me and demanded, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I moved past him and headed back downstairs to the media room.

Corrigan followed and continued, “I was just around the corner. I would’ve helped, Sheldon.”

It wasn’t the point. I waved him off, “Chet was there. It was fine.”

It wasn’t.

Corrigan agreed with me because he cried out, “Are you delusional? Are you stupid? How screwed up are you?”

I bristled and sent a warning glint his way. I didn’t like insults.

He caught it and bit back his next words, but he said, “Seriously, Sheldon. That was scary, even for me. Chet said it took him, Tatum, and Holster to stand up before Chad finally backed down.”

More than those three had stood, but I guessed that Chet hadn’t informed him of those details.

“This is huge,” he breathed out, slightly still in shock.

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. “Shut up.”

“I cannot—” Corrigan stopped abruptly when the front door slammed shut.

We glanced at each other before Corrigan took off running upstairs.

I stayed put and waited, tense, for what seemed like forever. I even shut off the television and listened, but I didn’t hear a thing. I should’ve gone upstairs. I should’ve contained the situation, but I knew it’d come down to an argument between Bryce and myself or Bryce and Chad Yerling.

I chose to be selfish.

I groaned and moved into the media room where I started playing pool.

I was good on a normal basis, but all my shots were spectacular under pressure.

And my mind wasn’t even on the game. It was on whatever was going on upstairs.

And then I heard the door slam again. I cursed as my arms jerked in reaction.

I waited, held my breath, but I didn’t hear any movements down the stairs. After ten more minutes, I slowly, gingerly, placed the pool stick on the pool table and moved upstairs.

Instead of finding Bryce or Corrigan or both of them, I found a note that had been quickly scrawled on the kitchen counter.

Went out. Be back later.

CHAPTER FIVE

I skipped supper, shot another hour at the pool table, and even watched a movie.