Page 58 of Rivals

“I’m not your girlfriend.” I scoff and glance away, too scared to let him see exactly how much his words affect me.

“You’re right.” He nods along, stacking deli meat, cheese, bacon, lettuce and tomatoes on two pieces of sourdough bread before handing it to me on a platter. Our fingers graze each other when he hands it to me, and my eyes jerk to his. “You’re more than just that. You are my heart, my soulmate, my future wifey. So, it’s really important I feed you.”

My mouth pops open at his audacity. I shovel a bite of food in my mouth, chewing and swallowing before doing it again. The entire time, Reign watches me, his smile growing bigger. It only adds to his charm that he starts cleaning up my kitchen as well. I need to get out of here.

“Okay, well, thanks and lock up behind you,” I say hurriedly while grabbing my shoes and my hockey bag and stick.

“Sandwich,” he calls, holding up the plate, and I grab the rest of that as well.

The door closes behind me, but I can still hear his deep laughter out in the hall. Thankfully, my cramps are better. As I head to the arena, I slip my earpods in, push play on my favorite playlist and start to pump myself up for the game. No more cheap shots from Reign’s groupies are allowed.

Quinn sees me enter and nods her head at me. We haven’t grown any closer since the other week, but she isn’t such a royal bitch now that she’s seen the damage Reign is willing to create in order to avenge me.

“At least this team doesn’t have a Thorn fan on it.” She lifts her shoulder and I flick her off with a smile on my face.

Leah walks in next. Leah and I have grown closer too, and when she isn’t under a misguided notion that I don’t have talent and only here because of Reign, she’s actually really cool. I’d definitely ask her to hang out with Sam and Emma and me sometime.

“No Thorn fans, just a lot of girls hoping not to get in your way tonight, Conrad. And to avoid your glowering boyfriend. He looks at everyone like he wants to murder them for even breathing near you. It’s terrifying.”

“Ha. Ha,” I respond, pulling my gear out and starting to get dressed. We keep talking about the game tonight and the new plays we’ve practiced all week. I’m ready to get out there, to touch the ice again. My fingers ache to grip my stick and score. I need to feel the steady hum of the crowd in my veins to make me forget everything else. Hockey is my happy place. It always has been.

“Five minutes, ladies,” Coach Silver calls into the locker room and we finish getting ready. I reach into my bag for my jersey but my fingers touch air.

“What the-” I stick my whole arm in the deep pocket, fishing for black and silver material that was there earlier today when I packed it. Before my nap. Before…Reign.

“He did not.” I grab my phone and quickly call him. The phone rings three times before his gravelly voice answers.

“A call this time?”

“Give me my jersey,” I demand, earning looks and raised eyebrows from Leah and Quinn.

“What will you give me for it?”

“Listen up, Thorn. You better give me my jersey before this game starts or I will never speak to you again,” I threaten, my anger building.

He laughs. Fucking laughs. “You already aren’t speaking to me, babe. But don’t worry, I’ll have you screaming my name later.”

The nerve of this guy. I can’t even help the way my stomach swoops with his words or the way my core clenches. “Jokes on you. I’m out of commission and even if I wasn’t I’d never touch your dick again after Brooklyn rubbed all over it.”

“Green is a good color on you, Riley. But not nearly as good as red. You know I like you in blood red. How about you offer me something that actually matters and I’ll bring you your jersey.” His voice lowers with each word and I’m practically vibrating with anger and lust.

I glance at Quinn who mouths three minutes to me before sliding out the door. Leah grabs my gloves and motions for me to follow her. “I’ll give you five minutes, Thorn. Isn’t that what you’ve been after the past few days. Just five minutes of my time then I want you to leave me alone, forever.”

I can hear him breathing on the line, the sound of the crowd growing louder and louder through my speaker. He’s close. “Five minutes of uninterrupted time. You can’t just run right in the middle of the conversation,” he counters.

“Fine,” I grit out.

“Here’s your jersey,” I hear him say, right as I crest the opening where I should be entering the ice. Reign looks the same as before except now, he has his team jacket on over his t-shirt. His faded denim jeans ride low on his hips and a pair of all white Nikes are on his feet. He stands at the edge of the stands and holds my jersey over the railing.

I grab it from him and quickly throw it over my head. The material settles over my pads and lands at my knees. Not thinking about it, I tuck the front into my breezers and reach for the back right as a loud cheer sounds. I turn and see everyone pointing at me, giving me thumbs up, and taking pictures. I glance at Leah who shrugs and I follow her on the ice. I should have known better than to trust Reign. When our eyes meet from where he’s sitting with the rest of his team, I see the flare of triumph in his gaze.

“Conrad, what happened to your jersey?” Coach Silver asks, pointing at my back, while I glide over to the bench. I try to look behind me, waiting to see what Reign has done.

“Is there something on it?”

Coach Silver’s eyes narrow at me before moving to the ref. “For the sake of time, I’ll okay the name and jersey change. Sub 81 for 18. Conrad for Thorn.”

“What?” I splutter and skate to the plexi glass, eyeing my reflection. Reign’s last name and number sit proudly on my back. “That ass—-”

---