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My brother won’t look at me. “Where did you get those?” he demands. “You spun those with the help of AI, didn’t you?” His jaw flexes, and that telltale muscle pulses. Meanwhile, I can’t decide whether to melt into the sidewalk, take off running, or throw up the beer that’s sloshing like a stormy sea in my stomach. I’m a human ping-pong ball that’s being smacked around, caught between a pair of paddles competing to see how hard they can hit.

Randy smirks. “Trust me. They’re legit. If you give me your number, I’ll forward them to you so you can check them out for yourself.”

My brother takes a step toward Randy, his fists clenched. “What the fuck? You’ve been stalking my sister and taking pictures of her? I’m calling the cops!”

Randy feigns shock. “Stalking? That’s a serious accusation. Since when is it illegal for someone to take a few pictures in a public place?”

I need to stop this. Before Donny can lose it and do something illegal, I grab his arm. He wrenches it from me.

Randy slides his gaze to mine, triumph glinting in his hard eyes. “Give me the money you owe me, and this goes away.”

“And if I don’t?” I growl. He’s already damaged me as much as he possibly can. What does he have left to hold over my head?

“Or I’ll post the pictures on the team’s social. Should make for some great fodder in the sports world.” Randy’s tone turns downright gleeful. “I can see the headlines now: ‘Star player caught off guard by sister banging his hated rival.’” To Donovan, he says, “Ain’t that a kicker? Your sister’s screwing a guy you can’t stand.”

I don’t bother to point out that they’re not rivals—merely teammates who hate each other.

Randy then makes Donny an audacious suggestion. “She might not have any money, but a highly paid athlete like you does. What am I offered to keep these to myself?”

“Go fuck yourself,” my brother hisses.

“Got it. Lucky for you, I’m a generous man. I’ll send these to my little pigeon here so she can enjoy them and share them with you. That will give you the chance to forward them to your PR department for damage control.”

Donny grabs my hand and yanks me alongside him as he stalks toward our building. His fury rolls off him in waves. Behind us, Randy’s malevolent laughter pitches high.

A few people join us on the tortuous elevator ride up. I can feel the explosion that’s about to detonate from the other side of the car, where my brother seethes. He keeps his eyes pinned to the floor; he won’t look at me. My mind races with what to say when we’re finally alone.

I come up empty.

His long legs carry him swiftly to the condo, where he unlocks the door, ushers me through, and slams it shut behind him. “What. The. Fuck. You were with him?”

“I … we … I ran into him at a marina and w-we became friends and …” I stammer.

“I’m not talking about Chase. Yet. I’m talking about that motherfucker outside. How in the fucking hell did you ever get mixed up with a sleazeball like that?” He storms into the living room without waiting for an answer and continues to rant. “That asshole needs to have the shit beaten out of him. How the hell would he know to pick the one guy I’d never, ever want you with?” He turns, stuffs his hands on his hips, and glowers at me. “Tell me he made all that shit up, Jack.”

I pull in a huge lungful of air and tear off the Band-Aid. “I can’t,” I croak “because it’s true.”

Donovan’s eyes widen, and his jaw swings open and snaps shut. I can practically see the red stain of fury as it crawls up his neck to his scalp. “No. Fucking. Way.” He spins in an agitated circle before fixing me with another dagger-stare.

My heart is beating at a panicked-rabbit rate, but at the same time I feel a huge weight lift off my shoulders. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. It was … We didn’t mean for it to happen. I-I think I’m in love with him. He’s not the guy you think he is.”

My brother balls his hands into fists so tight his knuckles turn white. “Jesus, Jackie! How could you do something like that?”

“This is not about you, Donovan!” I fire back. “It’s about me and finding my own happiness.”

He flings his hands in the air. “Oh, my fucking God! You have the absolute worst judgment. That guy downstairs is a douche of epic proportion, and so is Chase! Millions of guys in the world, and you go and pick the muck from the bottom of the slime bucket!” His disapproving look crushes my heart.

“You don’t know Colby,” I shout to keep my voice from quavering. Tears sting my eyes and clog my throat, and I’ll be damned if I’ll succumb.

“Neither do you!” His nostrils flare. “You know what Chase does when we’re on the road?”

I shake my head, dreading whatever’s about to come out of Donny’s mouth.

“He bags puck bunnies everywhere we go and brags about it afterward.”

“That’s a lie,” I fire back. But what do I really know about Colby?

“He even shares the details. Want to know what he likes to say about himself?”