Page 57 of Rivals

“Are you for real? That’s crazy, Thorn?” Blade spits blood from his cut lip on the ground. His eyes are wild. “You just caused permanent damage to a building.”

I shrug. “I wasn’t aware I caused any damage. At least none that the fire department or police are going to find. They might find your prints though on the explosives. And your car was seen speeding down the highway tonight, on multiple cameras in the direction of the explosion.”

Blade’s face morphs from disbelief to outrage. He’s still kneeling on the ground, with Leif holding his arm back. His skin turning from red to purple. “You’re a dead man, Thorn.”

“Am I?” I stalk closer to him and lean down so my knee is in the dirt. “Because if you break the rules of prank war, you become open season for anyone to go after you. Then there’s that little tidbit you probably don’t want anyone to find out about, you and the art teacher…I happen to have a very interesting video of one of your lessons that any college would probably hate to see go viral.”

His face pales and the recognition that he lost falls over his face. “Riley.”

“Don’t talk to her.” I punch him in the gut and he keels over from the motion. “You will never speak to her or of her again. She was never yours, Meyer. Riley was always mine. Always.”

Leif hauls Blade to his feet and brings him to his car. He takes off out of the area, racing away, like he thinks he can still salvage the night. My phone vibrates, an incoming text from one of the wingmen on my team who I sent to make sure the explosion worked.

MARSHALL: The fire spread to the arena. Great fireworks show! *thumbs up emoji*

I might have lost the challenge, but I feel like I won. My hands cup Riley’s face and I bend to kiss the shit out of her. Her soft lips open for me, letting my tongue sweep in to meet hers, tease her, while my hands dig into her soft curves. I can hear Brooklyn start crying harder when I pull away, breathing hard. Using my hand, I pull Riley’s head to my chest and glance at Brooklyn.

“You never stood a chance. I will never let Riley go and no one will ever take her place.”

The girl’s eyes fill up with more tears, her face red and splotchy. Carter lets her go and she gets behind the wheel of her car, tires squealing against pavement as she leaves.

I hold Riley tighter. It’s over. “About that favor.”

Riley stiffens next to me, before her arms drop completely. My heart hammers in my chest when she steps out of my embrace, putting distance between us. Her coffee dark eyes meet mine, and my heart shatters at the blankness in her gaze. “You cheated. Which makes the favor void.”

“Riley.” I reach for her, but she steps back again, shaking her head. “It’s over, Reign.”

She leaves me speechless, getting in the car with her best friends and driving back toward campus, taking my soul with her. I knew deep down this was always an outcome that could happen. Even though I tried to cover my bases by making love to her last night, I still wasn’t telling her the truth. I didn’t let her in and instead forced her to be a pawn in my game.

“It will never be over,” I promise her in the quiet of the empty space. I’ve broken down her walls before; this time, I’ll strategize and come back, fighting for both of us.

Riley

An obsessed Reign was one thing. An obsessed, stalker Reign is troublesome. The fact that I keep avoiding him is only adding to my troubles. It has been a week since the challenge and instead of giving up and moving on, Reign has only been amping up his game to the point of ridiculousness.

He is everywhere. Outside my dorm every morning, waiting with my lavender latte. A strong woman would have breezed past him and gone to get her own, but I‘ve been a zombie the past few mornings, thanks to extra ice practices and the lack of sleep while I overanalyze every part of what happened with him and Brooklyn, and the way he set up everything up to ruin her and Blade, and kept it from me.It was his fault so when he handed me my favorite drink that he paid for, I felt it was a fair trade. He owed me. And it was just a drink.

We still have our classes together. Only now Reign practically growls at any guy who comes near me, even our poor homeroom monitor who is only responsible for passing out the journal paper for the hour. He’s a bodyguard while I walk down the hallways, scaring everyone with a murderous look on his face. I notice many people literally turning around and going in a different direction just to avoid him. I also am no longer alone in my film class. Reign is there when I go in and he starts following me the minute it’s over. He has to have been missing part of his own class and now I am worried about him failing, even when I shouldn’t be. Maybe if he fails then he’ll finally realize that all of this is pointless.

I can’t forgive him. I am mad at him for forcing me to open my heart to him only to use all my insecurities against me. It doesn’t matter that he was doing it as payback because he could have told me. I want to be in on the secrets and pranks with him, not floundering in doubt and heartache, wondering if my heart will ever heal.

Five minutes before the last bell, my hand shoots in the air.

“Yes, Ms. Conrad?” Our teacher looks at me over his glasses.

“Bathroom?” I wince, holding my stomach. He glances at my hand and a faint blush stains his ruddy, old cheeks. He waves me to go ahead and I practically sprint out of class. Once outside of the building, I walk back to my dorm, hoping I’ll miss Reign entirely. We have a game tonight, my first back since my concussion. I do not have time for Reign when I’m on my period and have the worst cramps on earth. I need to concentrate tonight and with my current situation, I need space from my tormentor.

I quickly down some pain relievers and grab a heating pad before setting my alarm. I’ll rest for an hour then grab something to eat on the way to the game. Hopefully by then my uterus will have figured itself out.

The smell of bacon cooking pulls me from the dream I was having. Once again imagining the fireworks going off on top of a building before spreading fire to a new, multi-million-dollar, ice arena. Pulling myself up to a sitting position, this time my heart stops when I hear bacon sizzling on a pan. It isn’t my imagination. Creeping out of my room and down the hallway, I’m greeted with a sight that would make most girls swoon. Reign Thorn is cooking in my kitchen. His ink black hair is loose and messy, the muscles in his arms flexing while he chops lettuce and slices tomatoes. The white t-shirt he’s wearing molds and hugs every part of his torso.

“Breaking and entering now? You’re really stepping up this stalker thing you have going on, Thorn,” I mumble and take a seat at the kitchenette island.

He glances up, smirking, that beautiful dimple popping out, and his eyes full of mischief. “If I have a key does that really make it breaking in?”

“I didn’t give you the key, so what do you call it?” I challenge, pulling my legs up to my chest in my chair.

Reign’s head tilts to the side studying me. “I call it making sure my girlfriend gets a proper meal before her big game tonight.”

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