“It’s not a problem. You shouldn’t be missing a dance class, anyway.” I glance at the dude who continues to hover over her. “Right, Jack?”
His expression hardens as his eyes narrow. “Absolutely.”
She shoots a cautious look over her shoulder before biting her lower lip. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I hate the idea of not seeing you off.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Now that she’s no longer looking at me, his lips lift into a smile. I don’t like the way his eyes soften when he stares at her. “Your friend is correct. You shouldn’t miss class.”
“Colton,” I say, interrupting their conversation.
Jack’s eyes turn steely as they shift to me. “I’m aware of who you are.”
Well, all right then. Apparently, my reputation precedes me. That’s probably not a good thing. I have a sneaking suspicion Jack and I will be having an uncomfortable convo in the car.
Wariness ignites in Alyssa’s gaze as it bounces between the two of us. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. I’ll just—”
“It’s all good.” Refusing to take no for an answer, I grab the handle of Jack’s suitcase and wheel it into the hallway. I’ll be damned if this guy spends another minute alone with Alyssa. The thought of shoving him on a plane and getting him off US soil sends a massive amount of relief pumping through me.
“All right,” Alyssa mutters, still looking unsure. “I need to change before heading to class.” She gives me a bit of side-eye before stepping closer to the dark-haired guy.
They ignore me as he takes her into his arms. Everything inside me riots painfully as I stand by and watch them have an intimate moment. My jaw locks as I grind my back teeth together. It takes every ounce of willpower not to rip her from his embrace. He turns his face and presses a kiss against her cheek before murmuring something in her ear that I can’t quite make out. I’m on the verge of breaking up this little lovefest when they finally splinter apart.
“I guess this is goodbye,” she says, sadness filling her voice.
“For the time being,” he adds. “We’ll continue to talk. Just remember that I’m only a phone call away.”
Not if I can help it.
I clear my throat. Even though I have no idea what time his flight leaves, I say, “We should probably get moving. Wouldn’t want you to miss your plane.”
Not bothering to wait for a response, I drag the suitcase down the hall to the elevator. The sooner I get this guy away from Alyssa, the better off I’ll feel—even if I have to drive him to the airport myself. I’m not looking forward to the next thirty minutes of my life. I have the feeling it’s going to suck major ass.
I punch the button and tap my foot, shooting impatient looks down the hall. Once the car arrives, I roll the suitcase inside. The door tries to close four times before he finally gets his British ass into the elevator. The ride to the lobby is made in absolute silence—as is the stroll through the building. The parking lot turns out to be no different. With every step we take, the oppressiveness intensifies until it’s enough to choke on. A few raindrops fall from the sky, which seems about right.
When I finally stop in front of my 840i, his expression lightens. “Nice roadster.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. Under normal circumstances, I’d be more than happy to show off a few of the bells and whistles. In this instance, that’s not happening.
In one swift motion, I pop open the trunk and toss his luggage inside before slamming it shut and clicking the locks. We both slide into the vehicle before I start up the engine and pull onto the street, heading toward the metropolitan airport about thirty miles away. Normally, with traffic, it’s a forty-minute drive. My plan is to have him there in under twenty-five.
See if I don’t.
Not only does it take effort to unlock my fingers from around the leather steering wheel, but I also have to unclench my now aching jaw. I search my brain for something to say. Something that will break the uncomfortable tension that has fallen over us. I glance at him from the corner of my eye. The British prick sits ramrod straight as if someone shoved a two-by-four up his ass.
What the hell does Alyssa see in this guy?
He’s dark-haired where I’m blond, and slightly shorter. You bet your damn ass I noticed that right off the bat. Sure, he’s broader in the shoulders. Beefier. His physique is more suited to a brawler where I was built for speed on the football field.
I clear my throat. “Short trip, huh?”
That’s the best I’ve got. Even though I’ve separated him from Alyssa, jealousy continues to gnaw away at my insides. I hate that he holds a special place in her heart. More than that, I hate that he’s trying to oust me from hers. I can see it in his eyes. That’s exactly what he’s attempting to do. And I’ll be damned if I allow it to happen.