Oakley shoved Heath off of me and stood over him aggressively. Heath was a big dude, being a football player and all, but Oakley made him look so small. It dawned on me that these guys were going to get into a fight over me. Huh, cool. No, not cool. Bad. Very bad.

“Oakley, it’s okay,” I said, resting my head on his arm.

“Back the fuck off,” Oakley said to Heath, ignoring me. “Find somewhere else to be annoying, or I’ll have you cleaning equipment all day.”

“You can’t do that,” he argued. “But I wouldn’t mind scrubbing some balls,” he then added in a slur.

His joke was lame at best. I honestly doubted he scrubbed his balls at all. Heath didn’t look like the type to take hygiene seriously. Oakley, however, wasn’t amused. “Out,” he said, pulling me closer.

“I was just playing, man,” Heath replied.

“I don’t really give a fuck. You disrespect Amanda, you disrespect me. Out.”

Heath rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. The macho display of protectiveness was cliche and...well...hot.

Oakley followed Heath with his eyes until the annoying fuckboy was out of the house. “That dumbass,” he growled.

“Down, tiger. As your publicist, I have to say getting into a fight with your teammate would probably look bad,” I said. He curled me even closer. Any more and I’d have my legs wrapped around his waist. “Did you get me any water?” I asked. All of that manly protectiveness had me hankering for a drink.

“Ah shit,” Oakley sighed. “No. I saw Heath talking to you, and I just…”

“Got adorably jealous and came to my rescue?” I offered.

“Got ferociously protective and planned to beat his ass in your honor.”

I chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get me some water.”

We made our way into the crowded kitchen, where the music was less loud but the chatter was just as intimidating. I’d been to plenty of parties like this. I knew the score. A sense of ick traveled up my spine, and I was hit in the gut with the embarrassment of what I’d done at my old school. Being here was like digging up the remains of my old life. I went to grab a drink, then frowned when I saw Kelseigh and her two buddies lock their laser eyes on Oakley and me.

“Do you want me to fight them off?” I joked as they started to walk over.

“Only if you’re naked and in a mud pit.” I looked at him wide-eyed, a challenge in my raised brows. “I mean, no. I can handle it,” he quickly added.

“Oooooakley!” Kelseigh whined in that all too familiar high-pitched, nasally, drunk girl song. “Where have you beeeeen?” She dragged out that last word and flung her arms around Oakley’s neck. “I missed you.” She giggled.