The Girl Next Door
The Boy Next Door Chapter 37

"Dude, what the hell is up with you?" Beck mutters, barely glancing away from the seventy-inch television and the video game he's in the middle of. "Nothing." I swing around, pacing to the other side of the living room.

He snorts but stays laser-focused on the combat game unfolding on the screen. Gunfire erupts from the surround sound in a spurt of noise. "Whatever you say, man. Got practice today at three." f**k.

My head is too full of Alyssa and the British prick that came out of nowhere for me concentrate on anything else. I might as well plant my a*s on the bench now because it's doubtful I'll see the playing field anytime soon.

Here's the way I see my day unfolding-stew about Alyssa for a couple of hours, head to practice, more than likely fumble a few plays, get my a*s chewed out again by coach, and end it all by feeling like complete a*****e. I drag my fingers through my hair.

It's been more than twenty-four hours since that dude showed up at her door. After dumping the coffee I picked up earlier, I'd paced a hole in the floor all the while considering the merits of stalking over there and claiming that girl as mine. Except...she's not really mine.

Like at all.

I don't actually have any right to question what she does or who she spends time with. I lost that privilege when I broke up with her. For all I know, she had a relationship with this guy in London. That thought is enough to make me want to punch my fist through the wall.

And do you think I slept one damn wink last night?

f**k, no. Of course I didn't.

All I could think about was the two of them in bed together. His hands on her body. Stroking her the way I've imagined a thousand times.

"Can you sit your a*s down for five damn minutes? You're really throwing off my game."

I glance out the slider door. The skies are a dark leaden gray. I'm no meteorologist, but my guess is that it'll pour any moment. "I'm going for a walk."

"Excellent idea." He shakes his head. "And they say that I'm the one with ADHD."

Not bothering with a response, I pocket my keys from the breakfast bar and stride out of the apartment, slamming the door closed behind me. Emotion continues to rush through my veins. I don't like it. I don't like feeling out of control. Now that I've actually made some headway with Alyssa, it feels so much worse to have it ripped out from under me.

As I stalk through the narrow hallway, I grind to a halt in front of her door. My hands tighten into fists that hang uselessly at my sides.

You know what?

I need answers. Maybe I don't deserve them, and I have no right to them but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to try and figure out what the hell is going on.

Is this guy a friend or more?

Is this a short visit?

Where the hell did he sleep last night?

It had better not be where I slept the night before. That's all I got to say. Or we won't have to worry about him. He'll be dead.

Before I realize it, my fist is raised and I'm straightening my shoulders. Before I'm able to knock, the door is yanked open and Alyssa is standing in front of me.

"Oh," she says in surprise, falling back a step. It's difficult to tell just who is more surprised. Although, I'm thinking that it's her. "Colton." Confusion flickers across her face. "What are you doing here?"

That's an excellent question. I hadn't gotten that far in my thought process and have to improvise on the fly. It's not like I can just demand to know what's going on. "I was just wondering if you were heading to class."

"No, I'm going to skip today and drive Jack to the airport."

Jack-or as I like to call him, the British prick-wheels his suitcase into the entryway and proceeds to stand entirely too close to Alyssa. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him to back the f**k off. Before I can snap out the words, I realize what she said.

He's leaving.

My brows shoot up. "Don't skip class, I've got a couple hours to kill before practice. I'll drop him off."

Alyssa blinks, looking uncertain. Already I can tell that she wants to argue with me. "Umm..."

"It's not a problem. You shouldn't be missing a dance class, anyway." I glance at the dude who is still standing entirely too close. "Right, Jack?"

His eyes narrow. "Of course."

She shoots a cautious look over her shoulder before biting down on her lower lip. "Are you sure you don't mind? I hate the idea of not seeing you off."

"It's fine." 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 looks at her. "And your friend is right. You shouldn't miss class."

"Colton," I say, interrupting their conversation.

Jack's blue eyes harden as they shift to me. "Yes, I'm aware of who you are."

Hmmm. Apparently my reputation precedes me. That's probably not a good thing. I can imagine the stories Alyssa told him about. I have the feeling that Jack and I are going to have a coming to Jesus meeting in the car. Worry ignites in her gaze as it bounces between us. "You know what, maybe this isn't such a good idea after all. I'll just-"

"It's all good." Not taking 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 him being off US soil in a matter how hours has a massive amount of relief pumping through me.

"All right," Alyssa mutters, still looking uncertain. "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 both ignore me as he takes her into his arms. Everything inside me riots painfully as I stand by and watch. 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 hear. I'm on the verge of breaking up this little lovefest when they finally pull apart.

"I guess this is goodbye," she says, sadness filling her voice.

"For the time being. And we'll still continue to talk. 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 is, I say, "We should probably get moving. Wouldn't want you to miss your flight."

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 damn airport myself. I'm not looking forward to the next thirty minutes of my life. I have the feeling that it's going to suck balls.

I punch the button and tap my foot, shooting impatient looks down the hall and wait for the car to arrive. Once it does, I roll the suitcase inside. The door tries to close four times before he finally gets his British a*s into the elevator. The ride to the lobby is made in absolute silence. The stroll through the lobby and into the parking lot is no different. With every step we take, the oppressive tension rachets up between us until it's enough to choke on.

When I finally stop in front of my 840i, his expression lightens. "Nice roadster."

"Thanks," I mutter. Under normal circumstances, I'd showoff some of the features. That's not happening.