Tyson POV

“Hi, Tyson,” the newcomer greeted in a deep voice. “My name is Devon.”

I looked down at his extended hand. I imagined grabbing that hand, pulling him towards me, then headbutting him. He’d probably take a step or two away from me and that would be all I needed: I’d kick him behind the knees and lend him on his back. Then I could jump on top of him and hit and hit and hit… Right in that handsome bearded face that Alex seemed to like so damn much.

Would he scream?

Would he fight back?

Would he beg for mercy?

Would Alex do anything to stop me?

She probably would; she wouldn’t want to see him get hurt. She liked him.

Which was why I wanted to cause him pain.

I extended my hand and grabbed his, squeezing it firmly. I’d given up on brawling with this guy now. After all he had no idea I liked the girl he’d just kissed so I really shouldn’t blame him for doing it.

Yet I was still angry… and I couldn’t help squeezing his hand much harder than what was necessary for a handshake.

But he didn’t get intimidated by my gesture. On the contrary, his smirk grew more prominent as his blue eyes became darker.

“So, what brings you here, Dev?” Alex queried and I attempted to let go of the guy, but he didn’t unhand me. He held on to me for a few more seconds, looking challengingly in my direction and I started to wonder whether he had realized I had feelings for the girl next to him and if maybe he was trying to tell me he’d fight for her.

“Pawnshops,” he replied, finally setting me free and chuckled when he saw Alex’s confused face. “How about we go to your apartment and I’ll explain. You’re also coming, right, Tyson?”

Why was he asking?

Did he expect me to say no?

Or maybe he wanted to keep an eye on me?

“Sure, I’ll come,” I answered and both of us followed the brunette girl up the stairs and into her apartment. We sat on the barstools in her kitchen; me on one side of counters, opposite Alex, and Devon to her left.

“Oh!” The girl exclaimed, jumping from her seat. “You guys want something to drink?”

“Yes,” I responded curtly, thinking that some alcohol was the second best thing that could calm me down. The first one was wringing Devon’s neck.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” the guy stated.

“But Ty hasn’t told me what he wants yet,” Alex countered him and her lips twitched up almost insensibly.

He turned to me. The edges of his eyes wrinkled slightly as he narrowed his eyelids and smirked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he announced in the same defiant tone he’d used on me before.

What was he thinking?

To challenge me to a drinking contest?

Did he expect to impress Alexandra with that?

“Okay…” The girl took a deep breath. I stared at her in wonder; she looked like she was doing her best to stifle a laugh.

What was so funny?

“So, Ty, what are you drinking?” She barely let the question slip through her small lips before she pursed them together making her face contort in a weird grimace.

WHAT THE HELL WAS SO FUNNY?

“Whiskey,” I shot out curtly.

The girl moved to one of the upper kitchen cabinets and took out three identical glasses. She then bent in two with her back towards us and from one of the lower cabinets she took out a bottle with golden liquid in it. Devon woof-whistled once he saw her lean down thus giving us a perfect view of her ass.

“Seems like somebody’s been keeping themselves in good shape,” he commented, a playful inflection to his tone.

“Makes you want to slap it, huh?” The now straight standing Alex winked and gave herself a little slap on the butt.

“Just pour the drinks already!” I hissed, clenching my hands beneath the counter so that they wouldn’t see.

“Patience, Ty,” Devon preached, lowering his voice to a raspy whisper. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Well, patience and I aren’t really the best of pals,” Alex started, taking her previous seat and putting the glasses and bottle between the three of us. “So how ‘bout you answer my question already?”

“Which question was that?” The brunet asked but I had a feeling he was playing dumb just to mess with her.

“You know, Dev!” The girl persisted, filling the glasses with whiskey.

The guy chuckled and took one of them.

“Cheers!” He toasted and Alex lifted her drink to salute him. They clinked their glasses, the noise sounding unexpectedly annoying to my ears. The guy then licked his lips and turned to me.

“Cheers, Tyson!” He uttered, smirking at me once more while looking straight into my eyes.

“Cheers!” I growled almost choking on that single word. I knew he could tell I disliked him at the least, but that only seemed to amuse him as his smile grew larger.

“To answer your question,” he said to Alex but his gaze lingered on me for a few moments until he continued, “I’m heading to a friend’ and this town was on my way. Another friend had mentioned he’d left something in a pawnshop and that he’d like to retrieve it so I told him I’d get it back for him. The only problem is that he was drunk when he left it and he doesn’t remember the name or location of the place. So I really have my work cut out for me… Unless, of course, you’d like to help me, Lexie.”

“I might if you stop calling me “Lexie”.”

“That will be difficult; I’m so used to hearing Kevin call you that.”

“You know Kevin?” I questioned and the guy adopted a cocky expression the moment he turned to me.

He really wanted to challenge me, huh?

Well bring it on, dirtbag, I ain’t afraid of nobody!

“Yeah, I know him. His mother is from London and so is my family so we go way back. He’s the one who introduced me to Lexie here.”

“You’re not helping yourself by Lexie-ing me, Dev,” the girl commented and he chuckled at her. He turned his attention away from me, transforming immediately; his posture loosened up and his smile became kinder as he spoke to the girl.

“Fine, I’ll try to call you “Alex”,” the guy relented. “But only if you agree to help me out.”

The girl tilted her head back and pretended to ponder on the matter.

“Oh, come on,” his voice became husky again, “how can anyone possibly refuse me?”

Her gaze darted towards me and the girl managed to stifle a giggle before replying:

“I think you’ll be hearing “no” quite often while you are here, Dev.”

They shared a look, one of those that people who know each other well exchanged when they were having a silent private conversation; the very same one that keeps others guessing what those people had in mind.

What was Alex implying when she told Devon he’d be hearing “no” quite often?

Did she mean to tell him she won’t have sex with him?

And why had she snuck that glance at me before she said it?

Did she have feelings for me?

Was I the reason she wouldn’t fuck him?

Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?

Was I even thinking right now?

I mean truly, rationally thinking?

All these thought seemed like someone else’s prattle; someone only I could hear. And yet, it was me; it was my own silent babbling that occupied my head, my own incoherent thoughts fuelled by my anger.

Or was it jealousy?

I’d once read that there were five stages of jealousy: suspecting the threat, assessing the threat, emotional reactions, coping response followed by the last one: the outcome.

At first I thought that Devon didn’t realize how I felt for Alex. Then I’d suspected that he might’ve guessed it. And now I was adamant he knew.

I guess I could check out stage one, suspecting the threat.

Once I’d seen how close he got to Alex I’d begun to study him. I gave him a bone-crushing handshake and he didn’t flinch; I kept sending death glares his way and he found them amusing… He was obviously a guy who wouldn’t back down on a challenge. Given his well-built, toned body and muscled arms, things that I could see because he wore adherent clothing, I’d say this guy spent a lot of time in the gym and probably had some experience in fighting. It was also evident that he and Alex were close and I bet he wanted to get closer right now even though I was around.

Stage two, assessing the threat, checked.

Stage three, emotional reactions… I’d never been good with deciphering that stuff and although I couldn’t clearly define how I felt right now, I definitely was emotional so…

Stage three, checked.

What followed was the “coping response” stage. Coping… How could I deal with this situation? It wasn’t like I’d ever been in a similar one before.

“That’s because you never fell for anyone before,” I mentally commented.

And that was the truth: I’d never had feelings for a girl before; not the same I had for Alex anyway.

So what was my way to deal with having a competitor?

I looked down at my glass. Obviously I was amongst those people who needed some liquid support.

I gulped down my drink.

Stage four, coping response, checked.

So what was the next stage again?

Oh, yes: stage five, the outcome.

I looked at the two people in front of me.

While I’d been lost in my thoughts they’d been busy talking to one another. They’d leaned closer to whisper to each other, their lips were set in a permanent smile, playful fires were burning in their eyes…

Noticing my gaze on them, their eyes flickered briefly towards me, before looking at each other again, Alex finally letting go and bursting in a loud laugh while Devon gave her a knowing grin.

Stage five, the outcome, checked.

I’d lost.