Passionate Player – Game on Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
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“What the fuck is this?”

Ben and I both turn to see my brother walking over to us, a scowl on his face. He glares at Ben and steps close to him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, bro?” Eric sneers.

“What I’m doing is none of your business,” Ben growls. “Walk the fuck away, man.”

“My sister is my business.”

Ben’s eyes widen, and he turns to me. “Your sister?”

I wince. “I thought you knew.”

“I had no idea,” Ben replies.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” Eric snaps, stepping even closer to Ben.

They stand almost chest to chest, the air surrounding us crackling with an oppressive feeling of violence pressing down on us. It feels like the atmosphere just before a particularly brutal thunderstorm is about to break. Activity around the gym stops and everybody turns our way, waiting and watching to see if a fight breaks out. I can see the uncertainty on all their faces, nobody seems sure what to do or who to support if Ben and Eric start throwing blows.

“You need to take a step back and get the fuck out of my face,” Ben says.

“What the fuck are you doing with my sister?”

“First, I didn’t know she was your sister,” Ben replies. “Second, what we are or aren’t doing together isn’t your fucking business. She’s a grown woman.”

“Eric, I don’t need this right now,” I say. “Turn around and walk away.”

My brother turns to me, his scowl deepening. “You’re taking his side? You’re fucking him, aren’t you? Is that it?”

“What I do and don’t do, and with whom, is none of your business, Eric. I’m a grown woman and I’m free to make my own decisions⁠—”

“I can’t believe you, Bailey. I can’t believe you’d open your legs for this piece of shit.”

“Shut up, Eric!”

My scream echoes around the gym, adding a thick layer of discomfort to the already thick layer of tension in the air. It’s suffocating, and I feel like I can’t breathe.

The rage is flowing through me so fast and hot that I’m trembling, and I feel lightheaded. I look around the gym and see everybody watching us closely, the murmur of their whispered conversations filling my ears. I’ve never been so mortified in all my life. Trying to keep from screaming as I battle the urge to cry, I turn back to my brother and grit my teeth.

“Eric, I don’t want or need you in my life,” I tell him. “I’m sick and tired of you trying to control me. I’m done with you. Walk away and do not speak to me again. Ever.”

“Bails, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve always been emotional about shit⁠—”

“I said to get away from me. My relationships are none of your concern.”

He reaches for me, and I recoil, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me, Eric. I mean it. I’m done with you.”

“I ain’t going to do that,” he says. “You’re my sister.”

“She told you to walk away,” Ben says. “I suggest you do what she asked.”

“And I suggest you fuck off.”

Before Ben can reply, Eric lunges at him and gives him a hard two-handed shove in the chest. Clearly not expecting it, Ben stumbles back and gets tangled up in some folding chairs. He manages to keep his balance somehow and comes storming right back, his lips curled back and his hands balled into fists. I can’t believe this is happening. This doesn’t even seem real.

“Stop it. Both of you,” I shout. “Please, just stop it!”

Ben stalks forward, his eyes fixed on Eric. Before he can throw a blow, shrill whistles cut through the air and echo around the gym.

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?” Coach Holman shouts as he runs over.

Ben and Eric both stop and turn to the coach, their faces still smoldering with rage. Coach Holman stops between them, his face almost purple with anger. He levels an angry glare first at Ben and then at my brother.

“We’re not doing this,” he says. “This… this shit is unacceptable.”

“Sorry, Coach,” Ben murmurs.

“Yeah,” Eric replies. “Sorry.”

“What the fuck is the problem here?” Holman growls.

“Just a difference of opinion,” Ben says.

Breathing heavily, his face slowly fading from apoplectic purple to merely angry red, Coach Holman continues glaring at one and then the other. The moment, filled with heightened tension, seems to drag out forever.

“This isn’t going to work for me,” he finally says. “Go home. Both of you.”

“Coach—”

“I said go home. Get the fuck out of my gym. I can’t even look at either of you,” Holman snarls. “Go. Get the fuck off my floor. Now, boys. Go now.”

Eric storms away immediately, but Ben casts a look back at me, a tight smile on his face, before he turns and heads for the locker room. Coach Holman watches them go and turns to me.


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