Page 19 of Rivals

“Why do you need to see it?”

He holds it open and I’m greeted with the front. A giant gold letter A entwined with an S with a halo around it. I’ve seen the emblem many times, it’s not that exciting to me. I glance up and find Reign smirking, his eyes traveling over the back of it. I never took the time to look at the jersey when Coach handed it to me; I just stuffed it in my bag.

“What is it?”

Reign turns the jersey around and my number, the number I’ve been wearing for ten years, is in front of me. A gold number eighteen. My knees shake and my chest feels heavy. The Saints are only numbered twenty to thirty-five. There has never been a number lower than twenty on a jersey. Tears fill my eyes.

“You’re welcome,” Reign says as he lays my jersey on the back of the couch.

“You did that?” My head spins. In my gut I thought this whole thing seemed odd, and even more so after everything with Reign. But I didn’t think it could be real. Having this number wasn’t an option until Reign made it one.

“It was part of the stipulation that got you here,” he replies shrugging.

“Part of the stipulation?”

“My dad helped fund the scholarship and swayed the coach that when you make the team, because let’s face it you wouldn’t not make it, that you got to keep your old number. You lost your captain title, but you deserved to keep your number,” Reign explains.

My brain scatters all over with his confession. I feel manipulated but grateful as well as confused, but also taken care of. “You orchestrated my being here.”

He nods, his hand running through his hair. “You deserve to be here, Riles. And you would have been in middle school if I hadn’t been such a dick. If we hadn’t been so twisted in our games and challenges. I know you liked Public, that you always stood up for them and worked your ass off for that team. We want the best for you though, with the best opportunities, and that’s here.”

“We?” I ask, my voice shaking.

His head lowers slightly. “Your dad and me.”

“You’re the one who told him?” I glare at him stalking across the room and shoving him hard.

“All I did was bring up that you turned it down. Your dad wants the best for you, Riley. He always has. He knows this is the best track for your future,” Reign argues back.

I’m breathing hard, the sting of betrayal conflicting with the energy inside me that I can’t name, making my chest rise and fall rapidly. I want to punch Reign. I also really want to kiss him and climb on top of him. It’s a strange form of limbo. “Why Reign?” My gaze clashes with his. “Why?”

Reign’s face shutters as he clenches and unclenches his fists. That dimple on his cheek makes an appearance with how hard his jaw is working. “I already told you.”

“You like me?”

He nods and shoves both hands through his hair this time. “Yeah. I do.”

“You could have liked me and still let me be at Public.” My words jab holes in his explanation. “Is this a challenge to you? What are you getting out of me being here? Is it payback for rejecting your offer to fuck me at camp?”

Reign is on me in two strides. One of his hands grips the side of my neck and the other wraps around my ponytail, yanking my head back. I have no choice but to look at him, to study his gorgeous face and the way red flags appear on his cheeks. His lips pull away from his teeth, he’s practically growling, and his eyes are so intense on mine that I squirm in his hold.

“If all I wanted was a quick fuck, I would get it. I also would never need to pull this many strings for a fucking challenge, the thought is fucking ridiculous. What I’m getting is complete access to you whenever I want. That’s why you can’t go to Public anymore, Riley.” Reign leans in and kisses my lips, hard, demanding. My hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him for balance.

Reign walks us backward toward my room and slams the door shut once we’re inside. His hands roam all over me, fisting the bottom of my sweatshirt and lifting it off over my head between fusing his mouth to mine. His fingers hook on the band of my sweatpants and he tugs those down next until I’m bare to him, except for my bra and panties. I can barely breathe while his heated skin runs over mine. The backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress and Reign lets go of me at the same time. My body hits the top and bounces slightly. With Reign above me I watch as he yanks his own long sleeve shirt off and pulls down his sweatpants. Warning bells blare in the back of my mind, getting quieter and quieter as I start to see more of his bare skin.

I saw Reign naked or close to naked during our week at camp, but it’s been a while and the sight is something to behold. He’s all golden tan skin stretched over muscles. Strong in all the right places that make me feel safe and vulnerable at the same time. A protector and my tormentor. A gold chain hangs from around his neck and looks new. It’s the number that hangs from it that makes my eyes widen.

Reign glances down to where I’m staring, his fingers turning the numbers around. “Eighty-one and eighteen. Yours and mine.”

“Reign–”

“Take off your top.” He cuts me off, while his fingers hook into the top of my underwear and he slides them down my legs. My hands follow his command without thought. Shit.

“Reign, I don’t know if I’m ready.” Apprehension slides down my spine but my stupid heart is beating excitedly. It liked seeing my number hanging from his neck, for him to be wearing it daily and thinking about me.

“Relax, babe,” he replies, trailing his hands over my knees and between my thighs.

The mattress dips under his weight as he follows me up the bed. I can feel how hard he is through his boxers when he lowers his body over mine. Using one hand, he presses his palm against my clit and his fingers spread me open, teasing. I can feel how slippery I am and I gasp when one of his fingers slips inside. He pushes it in as far as it can go and my hands grip the bed sheets.

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