Page 65 of Rivals

“If I want to apply and go through the steps, I have a good shot at getting in,” I respond.

“How do you feel about it?” he asks, and I turn to look at him. His icy eyes trail over me. I can feel his love and the hint of possession that accompanies it.

“I’m going to apply,” I tell him, knowing deep in my gut it’s the right thing.

Reign leaps off the bed and folds me into his arms. He places a kiss on my head. “That’s good, babe. That’s really good news.” He steps back after releasing me and we’re both grinning like idiots.

“Well, I guess I can call off plan B now.” He laughs and reaches for his phone.

“Plan B?”

Reign’s eyes darken and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. “I wasn’t planning to leave Michigan without making sure we’re both coming back in the fall next year.”

My chest deflates. “What does that mean?” Reign’s features pull tight, all trace of humor or playfulness vanishing. He looks like a villain come to life.

“Nothing you have to worry about now, babe.” He slings an arm around my neck and kisses my cheek. “Plans are working out the way they should.”

Reign

You win some. You lose some. Except for me, I never lose. On the ice I am playing my heart out; the Eagles are a tough team to play, their defense is strong, but our offense is stronger. It also probably doesn’t help that they haven’t fully recovered from their beginning of the school year investigation. They lost some good players in all sports to other school districts. Tonight is going my way. Our team is crushing the opponent both figuratively and not. The boards rattle around me as I slam another Eagle player with my body in our fight for the puck.

I’m able to dodge and get enough stick on the puck to shoot it down to the other team’s ice before skating off for a line change. When we’re winning five to one, our coach starts to become more relaxed. I’m okay with the break. I get to see my girl when I’m on the bench. She’s sitting with the girls’ team, wearing my jersey over a pair of leggings. I had called her down before the game to give it to her. I was prepared and even looking forward to having to force her into it. Riley surprised me though when she took it and easily slipped it on over her body. I thought having her in my jersey would calm me down, help my concentration knowing every male in the vicinity knew she was mine. She is wearing my last name, my number. No. Nope. All I can picture is what she looks like wearing only my jersey, her thighs draped over my sides, her hands gripping my arms, fingers digging into my chest while riding my dick. It’s been a long time since I’ve had her, and I’ve been patient. I wanted her to forgive me, and not feel like I was using her body against her. I wanted her heart first. And now that I have it, and all the other chaos has ebbed, I’ve been fantasizing all game about her in only my number and sitting on my face, suffocating me with her delicious pussy. It would be a fucking amazing way to die. So yes, it’s good we’re winning and I don’t have to think too hard about anything else.

There are only four games left of the season before the conference finals and state championships. My father sends me weekly countdowns, reminding me of the deal we made. I’m fully invested in following through with his plan. It also helps that he talked to Pete and found out that they received Riley’s and my applications to Michigan. Mine is more of a formality; I had already pretty much signed, but they were waiting for the ink to dry. Riley is also being accepted and will receive her letter in the next few months with everyone else. The topping on the cake is that she also qualified for one of the bigger scholarships. I know this will be huge for her. I can’t wait until it’s official and we can celebrate.

It has been two weeks since our trip to Michigan. Two weeks since I pretty much told Riley my plan for our future and that I was prepared to do whatever I had to in order to have her in Michigan with me. I was not above doing whatever it took, no matter how dirty I had to play. I have zero fucks to give when it means having my girl with me. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes somewhere between acceptance and fear.

“Thorn, you’re in,” my coach yells, and I spring over the boards and skate after the puck that our defenseman cleared in the other team’s attack zone. Rushing the net, I manage to skate the puck around, my other linemen joining me. I pass the puck to Carter who shoots to our defenseman who shoots it back to me. Their goalie can’t keep up with the quick exchange and I easily sink the puck deep in the net on his glove side.

Scoring is a high and I’m addicted. I love the celebration with my team. The minute my arms go up and I raise a knee, I’m slammed in the back with a cheap shot. I manage to regain balance and turn to shove the guy who hit me. I recognize him, and he’s smug when he smirks at me, his mouth guard half hanging out.

“You’re still gonna lose,” I bait him. His sleazy grin fades and anger floods his features. He swings and I manage to duck. He drops gloves and I follow. My team surrounds us, holding off the other Eagles from trying to interfere. I get a hit in, harder than his, but he still manages to scrape my cheek as we go down. Eventually we’re pulled apart. Even though I have to serve a penalty, it is worth it. I skate by the girls’ team on my way to the box. Riley is standing with her hands on her hips. I expect anger or even worry, but the grin on her face is surprising; it forces one of my own. She waves and mouths, “Nice hit, baby!” Baby. My heart thunders in my chest, soaking in the nickname. I’m always Thorn to her.

Even after a two minute penalty, our team still wins. Our season record so far is putting us in the perfect line to be conference champions. We’ll take it, and then we’ll win states too. I rush off the ice and hustle into the locker room. When I make it to the lobby of the building, my eyes search her out, intent on having her by my side again. The place is packed with our fans who are waiting to congratulate us. A few of my team members drift by and we fist bump or slap hands. I start to get worried that I don’t see her when finally I hear her laugh. A smile tips up my lips and I walk in the direction her sound came from. The smile and warm feelings instantly vanish when I notice the guy she’s talking to.

Sliding up behind her, my arm bands around her waist, pulling her body into mine. “Standing a little close there aren’t you, Mavis?”

The kid flushes and jumps back. “Sorry,” he mumbles before shooting his gaze to mine. “I was just sticking around to say great game, Reign. Hope you’re okay after that cheap shot that asshole gave you.”

I study him, and luckily for him, he never flicks his gaze back over to Riley. “I’m feeling good. Thank you for showing up.”

“Anytime. Even though I’m out for the season, I still like to watch.” Mavis shrugs. I don’t respond to him and we spend a few awkward seconds where he’s staring at me before I raise my brow.

“Okay. Well see you later then.” He starts walking away and shoots a smile at me and then Riley, but I’m already moving her behind me so he can’t focus on her.

“Why were you mean to him?” Riley questions, turning in my arms. “He’s on your team.”

“Was on my team. He broke his leg in three places in the first week—”

“Reign, your cheek.” Riley’s eyes widen, and her hand shoots up to grip my chin, turning my face toward hers. “Didn’t you see the doc after your game?”

How do I tell her it didn’t even phase me and all I wanted to do was get out here to her. “It’s just a superficial wound. I can take care of it later.”

“You should go take care of it now.” She grips my arms and tries to tug me along with her.

“Babe, I’m fine. I’m hungry though and I know you have to be too. I just want to go eat.”

Riley huffs and tilts her head looking me over. “Fine. But only because you won and you deserve your favorite.”

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