How far could I push them? How far would they push me? I liked a challenge, but these men managed to shake the very foundations of my confidence. Not knowing if I could win made it that much more thrilling.

“Is there a problem here?”

All the boys turned. Alex stood behind Manson, with Nate and Matthew behind him. Their expressions were grim, their stances tense. This party was about to have much bigger problems than some petty teasing.

To say these men had a problem with each other was an understatement. Alex, Nate, and Matthew had all backed up my ex when he’d gone after Manson, but Alex and Lucas had beef of their own too.

Junior year, Lucas had smashed a glass bottle on Alex’s head and knocked him out cold in the middle of the cafeteria. Five stitches and a short hospital stay later, Alex came back with a scar and Lucas never returned. Expelled.

I could still see that scar on Alex’s forehead, partially covered by his hair. People said Lucas had tried to kill him, but honestly? I didn’t believe it.

If Lucas had tried to kill him, Alex would be dead.

I should have walked the hell away from that mess. But my first instinct was to step between Alex and Manson, smile sweetly, and say, “No problems. We’re good.”

Alex looked like I’d slapped him. Then fury overtook his face, his jaw clenching so tight that a blue vein swelled near his temple. He was wrong if he’d thought he could swoop in and rescue me, as if I was some damsel in distress. This was my confrontation. I didn’t need him bringing his own grievances into it.

“We’re just catching up,” Manson said. I was so close to him that when he shifted, he brushed against my back. “How’ve you been, Alex?”

I didn’t understand how he could be so calm talking to the very man who’d been violent toward him on more than one occasion. But this wasn’t the first time Manson’s self-control had taken me by surprise.

“Can’t complain.” Alex said. “I saw y’all pull in. Noticed you didn’t bring the El Camino tonight.” He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Shame about whoever keyed it.”

“You still owe me for that,” Lucas said darkly. He’d stepped closer so he was right at Manson’s side, cold hatred written all over his face.

“Chill out, Bent,” Alex said. “I didn’t touch your goddamn car. But even if I did, it’s only fair. You cut up my head, I cut up your ride.” He shrugged. “That would make us almost even.”

There was a shuffle and Manson bumped against me. I glanced back to see he had whipped out his arm to stop Lucas from charging forward. He was braced against Lucas’s chest, Vincent’s hand was gripping Lucas’s shoulder, and Jason, from behind him, said softly, “Let it go, bro.”

But Lucas looked far beyond simply letting it go. Matthew’s fists were clenched and Nate cracked his knuckles, the tension thickening with every audible pop.