Page 135 of Falling in Reverse

“That’s my business, not yours,” he clips back. “Just sit your pretty ass down and shut up.”

I step out of his grasp, but he holds that dense gaze on me. “No cheering for you then.”

“Save it for, Reeve. He’s going to need it.” Then he pivots and strides away, leaving me with the groupies as he receives the full focus of the boys on the court.

Reeve is already talking to a few, moving his hands around while Torin joins him, and it doesn’t take long for them to start back up again.

Torin Wildes, the Prince of The Landings, playing a very human and down-to-earth game. I never thought would be his cup of tea.

And he’s not bad.

He’s quick on his feet and tends to favor Reeve and some other tall guy when passing the ball. Together, they score quite a few times, but I can’t help but notice the way Torin’s blue shorts hug his hips, which only brings me up to his muscled stomach and hard chest.

Thankfully, the prick isn’t huge. The last thing he needs—or I need—is another ego boost.

He already has the crown of The Landings resting on his head.

Nonetheless, he’s fit, definitely a worthwhile eye-fuck, and can hold his own on the court.

A tussle happens when the ball is thrown and Torin lands on his ass, receiving Reeve’s hand to help him up. He doesn’t make a sound as Reeve’s hazels latch onto mine and gives me a playful wink.

Then he slowly peels his black tee off and stalks my way. The ink on his right forearm illustrates all the way up his arm to his shoulder and then collarbone. Another patch of black tattoos on the opposite side along his ribs.

And just when I thought Torin was fit, Reeve is a walking sun god. I can see the slight impression of veins drifting downward underneath his white shorts. The cut edges of each ab along his torso.

He’s a bit skinnier than Torin, but he’s not any less hot.

In fact, he may just be hotter because he’s nice to me.

“Can you do me a favor, McQueen?” He extends his arm and hands me over his shirt. “Hold this for me, baby.”

I notice a beaded necklace hanging from around his neck and a sterling silver cross beneath that.

“Sure.” I’m surprised that the singular word comes out clearly because I can feel the muscles in my jaw loosen by the second to practically drop and drool.

“Couldn’t allow Torin to be the only one you were looking at when we’re out there.” He supplies with a smirk and strides back to his teammates.

Yeah, he’s observant as fuck.

And his mission worked because there’s no way I can not look at him now.

I’m not sure how much time has gone by when their game ends, but Torin and Reeve are all smiles when they come off the court. A few dudes treading behind them and laughing.

“What’d you think, McQueen?” Reeve inquires as he plucks his shirt from my hand. “Gonna come to more of our games?”

“Going to have to say this was a one-time deal.”

Torin chuckles. “Yeah, dude, I’m going to say it’s you.”

Reeve slices over a dirty look to his friend and I take that opportunity to leave.

“Thanks for the invite, guys. I’ll be sure to treasure it forever.” Torin clutches my forearm the moment I attempt to make a move and he’s really irritating me with the handsy shit.

“You’re comin’ with me for a second.”

I heave a brow. “For?”

“You’ll see.” He glances at Reeve. “I’ll be ten. See if they want another game because I could go for a rematch.”

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