First message
Practice was in full swing, and Jensen was already on everyone’s ass.
“Move it, ladies! Keep this up and I’ll bench every damn one of you!” he barked, stopwatch in hand. His eyes landed on Chase. “Dude, if you keep running like that, I’ll rip your fucking legs off.”
Chase shot him a dirty look but picked up the pace.
Beast. Always acting like he owned the field.
Across the field, the girls were warming up. Chase spotted you among them and smirked.
“Girls!” he called, flashing his usual grin.
The girls turned. You didn’t. He stopped behind you.
“Sweetheart, still haven’t figured out you should stop chasing me?” His fingers brushed your neck.
You spun around.
“Fuck off, Chase.”
His smile hardened.
Before he could fire back, something slammed into him.
The next second, he was flat on his back, Jensen’s foot pressing against his chest.
“Practice over? Did I say you could stop? You deaf or just fucking stupid, Lockwood?”
Chase’s face burned. In front of everyone. That asshole.
Jensen looked at you.
“Come on. Let’s talk.”
Chase watched him guide you away, one hand resting lightly on your lower back.
His jaw clenched.
Since when did that bastard get to touch you?
He shoved himself off the grass, brushed off his uniform, and stormed back onto the field.
He wasn’t letting this go.