The Boy Next Door

A zip of unwanted attraction ricochets through my heart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alyssa wear glasses before. She looks all kinds of sexy in them. And studious.

Fooling around with her after high school graduation had been a mistake. One I regret. If I thought it would help evict her from my head, I was sadly mistaken—more like the opposite. One taste was never going to be enough.

Instead of giving in to my urges, I’ve steered clear of the west end of campus, where the fine arts building, and her dorm, are located. If I catch wind that she’ll be at a party, I hit a different one. That’s been my tactical plan ever since.

Has it helped to stomp out my feelings for her?

Not one damn bit. When we do happen to run into each other, the intensity is like a tidal wave crashing over me, threatening to suck me under. Instead of cautiously backing away, I take an unconscious step in her direction. Before I can think better of it, more distance gets eaten up between us. Even though my brain is shouting at me to turn around and walk away, instinct takes over, propelling me forward.

This is the one girl who continues to override my feelings of self-preservation. I’ve never understood how she’s managed to circumvent the walls I’ve thrown up. Alyssa stirs emotions inside me that I’d rather not experience. There’s something about her that draws me like a moth to a flickering flame. As much as I want to forget about her, I can’t. She’s always there in the back of my head. When I’m with other girls, it’s Alyssa I envision. She’s the only one capable of making me feel something which is precisely why I continue to deny myself.

It’s all kinds of fucked up, and I know it.

When Alyssa flashes a smile across the table, my gaze shifts, and I realize she isn’t alone. I straighten to my full height, only now noticing the guy parked across from her.

Jamison Daniels.

He’s one of my teammates.

What the fuck is she doing with him?

His lips hitch at the corners as he reaches across the smooth surface that separates them and brushes his fingers across her knuckles.

Oh, hell no!

That is so not going to happen!

Before I realize it, I’m stalking across the space. It only takes a handful of strides for me to pull up alongside their table. Alyssa blinks out of her Jamison-induced haze as her gaze flickers in my direction. Ever since that girl turned fifteen, she’s been after me. I’ve never seen her so much as look at another dude. A potent concoction of jealousy-infused anger vibrates through every cell of my being. It takes all of my self-control not to tackle this asshole to the ground and drag him away from her.

“Hey.” I’m almost impressed at my own ability to keep my fury from bleeding through that one syllable. I want to rip off Jamison’s head and shit down his throat. Alyssa needs to understand that she belongs to me. Whether we’re together or not.

She’s mine.

She’s always been mine.

“Hi.” Her gaze stays pinned to me as she leans against the chair and pulls off her glasses. The movement has her fingers slipping from his outstretched hand.

I release a pent-up breath the moment they’re no longer touching. I’d hate to beat the shit out of one of my own teammates, but I’ll do it. I don’t like him touching her.

Hell, I don’t like anyone touching her.

Anyone that is but me.

Fuck.

I plow a hand through my hair in agitation. Only now does it occur to me that I have no idea if she’s been out with other guys. Whenever we run into each other, her attention is strictly focused on me. Even if I’m surrounded by other girls, she’ll fight her way through the crowd to get to me.

And you know what?

That’s exactly the way I like it. I enjoy knowing that even though I’m holding her at a distance, it’s me that she wants.

Does that make me an asshole?

Probably, but I can live with that knowledge. What I can’t tolerate is Alyssa going out with other guys. Fear and panic flood through me until I’m nearly drowning in it. Here’s the problem—I can’t have this girl for myself, but I don’t want anyone else to have her either. I have no idea what to do.

Whether Jamison realizes it or not, he’s treading on my territory.

“Daniels,” I bite out.

Reluctantly, he sits back and folds his arms across his chest. His biceps pop with the movement. Is he seriously trying to intimidate me? I almost snort.

Not gonna happen, dude.

“What’s up, Montgomery?”

Instead of responding to the question, I fire off one of my own. “Do you two know each other?” I wince at the bite of jealousy that threads its way through my gruff voice.