The sudden violence that surged up inside Jackson startled him enough that it kept him from reaching over and pounding the face of this nameless man. "Ginny St. Croix. And it's the same girl," he replied with a calm he didn't feel. "I'm not sure when her next game is."
He forced his hand to unclench and forced himself to relax. This man was just making an idle comment any straight red blooded male would make and Ginny wasn't his just yet anyway. He had no right to be possessive of her. "So what was your name again? I don't think I caught it." So I know what to the funeral director when they ask what to put on your tombstone, Jackson thought to himself.