Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard 1)

My hands curl into fists, anger pulsing through my veins once again.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Riley scoffs. “Just answer me one thing.”

I glance up and meet his heavy stare, nerves pounding through my body like they do right before a big game. “What the hell are you so afraid of? You’ve got this amazing girl, who for some fucked-up reason can’t take her eyes off you. She’s fucking stunning with a pair of balls bigger than yours. Any one of us would be happy to have her, so why the fuck are you destroying this before it’s even started? Why are you trying to push her away?”

I push up from the desk, unable to sit still. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You used my face as a fucking punching bag. You owe me.”

I scoff. “Don’t act as though you didn’t swing back.”

He indicates to his face, and I know exactly what he’s going to say. “I played by the rules. No punches to the face, man, and you got me twice. How the fuck am I supposed to explain a black eye and a split lip to my old man?”

Guilt washes through me and I cringe. “Sorry, man. I’ll talk to him if you want.”

“No, just stop bitching out and answer my fucking question. Why are you pushing her away?”

“FUCK,” I groan, stopping to meet his stare. “Because she’s in my head. First thing in the morning, I look at her room to make sure she’s up and getting ready. The second I get to school, I search for her piece of shit Honda, I memorize her fucking class schedule, know where’s she’s going to be every single moment of the day, and even that isn’t enough. I’m fucking obsessing over this chick, and I don’t know how to turn it off.”

Riley gapes at me, never in our twelve years of friendship has he ever heard me talk shit like this. “I umm … shit, man.”

“Yeah, you think?” I mutter. “I have a fucking championship to win. I have all of your futures riding on my back and scouts to impress. I can’t afford to fuck this up because some girl is growing roots inside my head. Not to mention, Addie is in a fucking coma. What kind of asshole does it make me to be out here thinking about how tight Brielle’s pussy is over fucking up the bastard who did this to my sister?”

Riley stands and moves toward me, guilt in his eyes for pushing this Brielle thing so far. “You should have told me, man. If I knew …”

“Don’t—”

He cuts me off, not interested in hearing me shrug him off. “You keep going like this and you’re going to push her right into the arms of somebody else.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

Riley pulls his phone from his pocket and tosses it to me. “Really?” he questions, smugness glistening in his eyes. “I never took you for a liar, Tanner. Check my most recent text and tell me how you feel about that.”

Rolling my eyes, I swipe my thumb across his screen and enter his passcode, the same fucking one he’s had for six years. Finding his texts, I bring up his most recent and my heart stops, finding Brielle’s name at the top. I click on it and scan across the message, my fingers tightening around the phone.

Brielle - Gave it some thought and you’re right, things between us would be hot. I’m down tonight if you are.

Searing hot panic tears at my chest. Riley is right, me hurting her is doing nothing but sending her into the arms of someone else, and in a perfect world, that’s the outcome I should hope for, but the idea of her fucking some other guy terrifies me.

This text was sent twenty minutes ago, probably right after she pulled her blinds closed, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she sent this to Riley because she knew I would find out about it. She knew it would hurt me just like I hurt her, and she’d be fucking right. It tears at something deep in my chest, and I deserve every bit of it, but on the other hand, she knows that Riley is a safe bet. There’s no way he’d go over there and fuck her, and she knows it. This message was all about playing me, and it worked just how she wanted it to.

Seeing the look on my face, Riley holds his hands out as if to point out that he never responded. “Got that while I was driving home and came straight here instead. Figured a message like that meant you’d done something to hurt her.”

The reminder of Jules weighs down on my shoulders, making me feel like a fucking prick, but I don’t regret it. She’ll pull away from me and it will probably kill me, but I’ll get over it, and eventually it won’t hurt so bad.