The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

“You’re going to win that title, Lance. Close your eyes.”

Our voices are anything but intim

ate. They’re more like echoes upsetting the vibe in this sacred place, but that does nothing to stop the goosebumps from erupting on my skin. I’m standing in front of a world-class sportsman. I just need to make him believe it. What I knew in my gut then about his fighting materialized into truth. I don’t believe this conviction any less. Lips upturned; his eyes close. I lift up on my toes, balancing myself on his shoulders with my palms and whisper both our hopes for his future. “Are you seeing it? Do you hear them? It’s going to be incredible.”

“I don’t care about all the noise.”

“No man destined for greatness ever does. But by the time you get to that point, you’ll deserve it.”

He opens his eyes, and in them, all I see is hope and longing. In the next second, he snatches me to him, so I’m flush with his chest.

“Look at that speed,” I manage through a laugh as he grips the sides of my face and leans down just an inch from my lips. I wet them in anticipation, but he backs away slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. I do my best to hide my disappointment. “All this faith in me. I hope I don’t let you down.”

“You never have. Don’t start now.”

“I’ll do my best. This is incredible, Priss. Thank you.”

“Ready to see more of New York City?”

He slowly nods, his eyes searching mine before his lips lift into a serene smile. “Let’s do it.”

Lance

After touring a good bit of Manhattan, we walk Central Park for hours just talking in the freezing cold. None of the conversation is forced but it’s mostly in circles when she asks about life in Texas. I’ve been tight-lipped about home for a reason, I’m here to escape. After dodging most of her questions, she fills me in on the last two years of her life. I haven’t asked about her relationships because I don’t want to know. A more mature man could handle it.

For the moment, that motherfucker ain’t me.

The more I watch her, the more possessive I feel. It’s growth that needs to happen, but the hardest of my pains when it comes to her.

I don’t want to know just yet who’s kissed her, touched her, fucked her. I’m liable to lose my head. But I know there’s a part of me that needs to be okay handling whatever the truth is. Even after all our time apart, it’s clear to me she’s very much the same girl I fell for, just a little less naïve and more worldly. I can still read her, anticipate some of her words, her thoughts. So, when her breath sputters after seeing a man in wait at the foot of her building, I notice.

The guy catches sight of Harper and lights up when their eyes connect in a way that grates me, and I know without a doubt, this is the new.

Harper’s ears redden, and it has nothing to do with the cold.

“New?” I ask, trying to hide the raw jealousy I feel.

I already know the answer, but she nods, looking on at him before darting her gaze back to me. “Just let me talk to him for a second, and then I’ll introduce you.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I’ll be right back.”

The guy lifts his phone as she approaches. “Hey, you, I’ve been trying to text you today.”

“Sorry, I’ve been out and about.”

Just as I was thinking it minutes ago, I know without a doubt I’m being tested, which is just my damned luck. Though he might be new, it’s obvious there is a little history between them. I can read it in their posture and easy conversation as I size him up. He’s tall, built, and dressed to dance in skin-tight black slacks and a matching button-up shirt. His thin pants leave nothing to the fucking imagination.

And the cherry on top? Well, that’s the horse dick resting on one of his silk-covered thighs.

Instantly, I want to dismember him.

Horse dick looks past Harper’s shoulder at me, and her eyes follow. She’s nervous, and it’s painfully clear. She’s never juggled two men at once, and her attempt is shit. Even in my state, I swear to God I love her more for it. I’d be more amused if the guy wasn’t staring at me like I’d just stolen his puppy.

After a few seconds of polite conversation, I make my way over to where they stand.

“So, who is this?”