Is Manny getting married to Jamie? Maddox’s only other girlfriend, the girl who left him in the minors?

Maddox cocks his fist back only for the boys to hold on to him from behind. I startle backward, as do the other girls, while Jason moves forward and presses his hand to Manny’s chest. Jason might be a teddy bear goofball, but the man is a beast. Broad, tall, and built like a semi-truck. I would never mess with him, and it looks like Manny sees that too.

“I suggest you leave,” Jason says angrily.

Manny holds his hands up and takes another step back. “Fine by me. Just thought I would check in.” Looking behind the men, Manny spots me and gives me a nod. “Good to see you, Kinsley.” And then he takes off just as quickly as he came in.

Hand to heart, I try to catch my breath as the boys let Maddox go. His shoulders are heaving and when he looks behind him and makes eye contact with me, gone is the love, the adoration. In its place is undiluted fury. The anger I’ve seen when Maddox is on the field, ready to get in a fight.

The unguarded and chilling anger I saw in his father’s eyes many, many times.

Oh God. Maddie . . . I can’t stop shaking, but I move toward— “I told you to stay out of this,” he yells.

Wait . . . what?

“I told you to give me goddamn time. You couldn’t do that, could you?”

Our friends slowly back away and fade into the background as embarrassment and hurt creep up the back of my neck.

“No, you’re Kinsley, and you do whatever the hell you want.” He drags his hands through his hair and then breathes out a heavy sigh. “Fuck,” he shouts, startling me backward even more. He’s brimming with rage. It’s rolling off him so fast that I’m nervous what might happen if I take a step forward, if I try to talk to him.

But before I can attempt to do so, he grunts something under his breath and takes off out of the bar.

Tears threaten to fall. What do I do? How do I approach this? How to talk to him?

“What did you do?” Jason asks me just as Dottie steps in, hand to his chest.

“Jason, don’t. This isn’t our business.”

I look around at our friends, or at least what I thought were our friends. Judgment sears their faces along with disappointment.

“I . . . it wasn’t . . .” I choke down a sob and quickly wipe at my eyes.

“Maybe . . . you should go,” Lincoln says, setting his beer bottle down and crossing his arms over his chest.

And that’s when I see it: the closed off-expressions from the guys, the brick walls being built to not only protect them, but to probably protect Maddox. The only person who isn’t looking at me as if I just broke their friend is Natalie. Instead, there’s sorrow in her eyes, almost as if she wants to reach out and give me hug.

“Kinsley,” Jason says and then nods at the door.

Okay, I get the hint.

More tears stream down my face, as I give them a slight shake of my head. I back away, hands twisted in front of me, and then slowly make my way out of the bar. I almost half expect to walk outside to Maddox and Manny fighting, but when I look to the left and right, all I see is an empty street.

Defeated, I head back home, head hanging low, my gut twisting and my mind racing. What do I say? How do I prove to him that I had nothing to do with this?

All the lights in the apartment are off when I arrive home, besides one.

The bedroom.

I kick off my heels and squat down to Herman, who makes a small whining noise in the back of his throat as he presses his head into my hand.

“Is he back there?” I whisper just as I hear a zipper being pulled on. “I guess he is.” I scratch Herman behind the ears to gather some courage and then stand to make my way back to the bedroom.

I proceed with caution, unsure what I’ll find, but when I cross the threshold of the bedroom, I wasn’t expecting to see what’s on the bed.

Maddox’s suitcase.

No. No, he can’t leave like this. No.

Shirtless, Maddox comes from the closet and shoves some T-shirts into the suitcase just as I move forward. He looks to the side, spotting me, but doesn’t stop. He goes back to the closet and continues to fill the suitcase.

The tension is almost unbearable, the fury falling off him in waves is agonizing, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life.

When he returns into the room, I try to put my hand on his but he steps away. “Maddox,” I say on a choked sob. “Please talk to me.”

He pauses, hands resting on his suitcase as he looks down at what he’s packed. “What is there to talk about? You do whatever the hell you want, Kinsley. There’s no point in talking.”

“Are you blaming me for Manny showing up?”

His head tilts to the side, his eyes dark and dangerous, and that’s when I spot the open bottle of whiskey on his nightstand. He’s been drinking even more than when we were at the bar.

“Are you denying it?” Before I can answer, he continues, “Ever since you got here, you’ve taken everything you wanted. You’ve changed everything in my apartment, trading out all my products for environmentally friendly shit. You changed my balcony into a landfill, you invited people over when I specifically told you not to, you brought a fucking dog in the house when I requested no animals, and you put on a fucking birthday party when I didn’t even want one.” His voice rises. “I didn’t want a fucking party, Kinsley. Are you hearing it now, or is it still going in one ear and out the other, like everything else I’ve told you?”

“Maddox. I was trying—”

“You were being your mom.” I reel back as if he slapped me.

“Excuse me?”

“Always meddling, always thinking you know what’s right. Guess what, Kinsley, we might have known each other since we were five, but I’m a grown man now, and you don’t know everything about me. Before you came here, I was doing just fine. I had my routine, I had my schedule of women, I was happy . . . content. And then you showed up.”

“I didn’t just show up,” I shoot back. “You invited me.”

He drags his hand over his face and reaches for the bottle of whiskey. He takes a gulp and then looks me in the eyes and says, “Yeah, that was a mistake.”

Blood begins to pound in my temples as my heart shatters, piece by piece falling to the ground in a heap of humiliation and despair.

He can’t possibly mean that. Right?

My lip trembles and my mind whirls, trying to come up with something to say, anything, but every time my mouth goes to open, my throat tenses up and I can’t get a word out, not without sobbing through it.

“You know, I’ve put up with a lot of your shit since you moved in. I’ve dealt with your idiotic lifestyle of trying to save the world. I’ve endured your ridiculous food choices and your useless toothpaste and bamboo bullshit you have all over the apartment. I’ve dealt with your three-legged dog that needs to leave this apartment. His time is up.” Tears flood my cheeks. “I’ve even held my cool when you’ve invaded my privacy in every which way despite me asking you not to, and when I told you to leave me alone about my brother, I expected you to do that.” He zips up his suitcase. “But you couldn’t, could you? You had to stick your nose where it didn’t fucking belong.” Maddox sets the suitcase on the floor and asks, “What were you expecting to get from inviting him? That we were going to magically make up? That I was going to see him and offer him a mending embrace?” Maddox shakes his head. “He slept with my girlfriend the first month I was away in the minors, Kinsley. Happy? There is no coming back from that.” He pushes past me, knocking my shoulder in the process and sending me to the side. I quickly catch my balance and chase after him.

“I didn’t invite him,” I say before Maddox can get too far.

Laughing with the bottle of whiskey up to his lips, he shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. You’re going to have to do a better job at lying.”

“Maddox, I didn’t.”

He just rolls his eyes and takes one more swig before setting the bottle on the counter. He slips his shoes on and I go up to him, putting my hand on his back. “Don’t go. We need to talk—”

He knocks my hand away, throwing me off balance, sending me to the floor. And for a brief second, I catch a sense of recognition pass over his eyes as he looks at me on the ground. But it’s a fleeting look, because just as quickly as it arrives, it disappears. “We don’t need to talk. I need to get the fuck out of here.”

This can’t be happening.

“Where are you going?”

“Why do you care?”

I get back on my feet and try to hold my ground, even though my legs are shaking, and unease eats me alive. “Because you’re drunk. Because you’re my boyfriend. Because I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Boyfriend.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I take another step forward but when his angry eyes hit me hard, I don’t move another foot.

“It means we’re done, Kinsley. We never should have gotten involved in the first place.”