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“We do.”
“Fine. Then talk,” he growls. “What do you want?”
“I want to know why you're so intent on ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me. I want to know why you're trying to sabotage my relationship with Ben.”
“For one thing, I can’t believe you’re fucking that guy,” he sneers. “He’s just using you, Bails. He’s going to break your heart. And I’m not going to sit back and let that happen.”
“It’s not for you to say who I can and can’t date. It’s not for you to worry about who breaks my heart or who doesn’t. Those are things I have to learn for myself.”
“Not while I’m around.”
Anger, white-hot, flashes through me and it’s all I can do to keep from lunging across the table and smacking my brother. The only thing that keeps me in my seat is knowing my purpose here. Knowing that I’ve got a broader strategy in play.
“Seriously, who do you think you are, Eric? Why do you think you get to meddle in my life without consequences?”
“Because I promised Mom and Dad, I would always look out for you.”
“You’re not looking out for me. You’re trying to control me.”
“Because I know what’s best for you, Bails.”
My eyes widen, and I gape at him for a moment. “The balls on you. Do you know what a presumptuous prick you are?”
“You can call me names, and you can be angry with me. But you’re my little sister, and I’m always going to do what’s best for you,” he replies. “And trust me when I say that piece of shit Ben Givens is not what’s best for you.”
“If you want to know why we don’t have any kind of a relationship, this is it right here,” I tell him. “That you can sit here and try to dictate my life to me is exactly why.”
“I’m just looking out for you, Bails.”
“No, you’re trying to control me,” I retort, my voice hard. “And I’m going to keep seeing Ben whether you like it or not.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see what happens with him.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs casually. “It means what it means. Basketball is a rough sport and people sustain career-ending injuries all the time.”
Although my blood is boiling, I manage to keep myself in check. “Is that what you were doing when you threw that cheap shot on him in practice? Trying to end his career?”
He gives me a smarmy grin. “I was just playing hard. If Ben is too soft and can’t handle a little physicality, he shouldn’t be playing the game.”
“I’ve never thought much of you as a person, but I can’t believe you’d do that. I can’t believe you would actually try to end somebody’s career.”
“I didn’t say I was trying to,” he says with a grin. “But then, I didn’t say I wasn’t, either.”
His smug attitude about hurting another player, let alone a player I’m in love with, finally gets under my skin and I lose control. I jump to my feet so fast that I knock my chair over behind me and lean across the table, my face twisted with rage.
“He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be, Eric. You’re nothing but a little bitch,” I shout. “You hate Ben because deep down, you know you’ll never be half the player or half the man he is and it kills you inside.”
Eric jumps up, and before I can even react, he lashes out and catches me across the face with a nasty backhand. I look at him with wide-eyed surprise, stunned that he actually hit me. I think very little of my brother, but I honestly never thought he had it in him to strike me. My cheek stings like hell, and I hold my hand to it, staring at Eric with a healthy dose of anger on my face.
My brother swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Bails. I didn’t mean to?—”
“What the fuck was that?”
We both turn to see Ben standing in the doorway of the press room, his expression dark as he glares at my brother with pure hatred on his face.
“It’s not your business, man,” Eric says, trying to regain his composure. “Just walk away. This don’t concern you.”
