Page 7 of Rivals

“Guess we’re both using my research in college.”

We laugh the rest of the way down to the parking lot pavement. The boys have beat us there and are already setting up goals with the trash cans. I watch as the girls on my team approach hesitantly but also filled with the same bloodlust as me. I smirk while we slip on our blades.

“We’re just going to number off on teams,” Reign informs me, like the whole thing was his brain child. I roll my eyes.

“Sure.”

He makes the two teams and everyone breaks off. I skate over to my team and notice that things are pretty evenly split. Reign’s lopsided smile plays on his lips and that dimple makes an appearance. His eyes dance and I know the next words out of his mouth are going to make me mad. “Alright, well, since you issued the challenge, I think it’s only fair that your team be skins. Plus, I know how hot Easton gets on the tar.”

His teammate next to me smirks. “Thanks, Cap. You know I hate sweating through my shirt.”

That’s all he says before taking his tank off. All the males on my team start removing their shirts. A few of the girls from my team avoid looking anywhere but at what is happening while the others can’t help but check out the sculpted athletes in front of them. I grit my teeth together, refusing to step down to Reign like he clearly thinks I will.

“I really hate it too,” I manage to say hotly. Before I can overthink it, my fingers grab the edge of my tank top and I pull it off over my head. At least I wore my most supportive sports bra today. My breasts are secure but also pushed high.

I hear the intake of breath from a few guys on my team. I meet Emma’s gaze next and she’s practically hooting. It’s when I look at Reign though that my pulse starts beating erratically. His face has lost the smirk and his blue eyes burn as bright as the middle of a flame. My bare skin tingles, growing heated. My stomach muscles flex under his stare.

Wolfish whistles sound around me as my team members follow my lead. “Thorn, this is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“I’m motivated to win,” another guy says.

“Let’s play,” I respond and grab my stick. My movement spurs Reign and his team into action as well.

We take up our positions, Reign and I facing off in the center. My eyes meet his while he stares me down. His jaw ticks, and unnamed emotions cross his face. For a second my heart stops, everything blurs, and an awareness I’ve never felt before settles over me. I feel blanketed in possessiveness, the air charged with an intense sort of obsession and need. Shivers race across my skin and I feel my mouth go dry.

When the tennis ball hits the ground, I swear we both just pause before reacting. It takes our teammates screaming at us to push the rest away and my focus slaps back into place. Both our teams play hard. Both teams refuse to be down in score, and the whole time we remain tied. My team scores. Reign’s team scores. I battle with anyone for the ball and Reign is right there shoving them away. My skin brushes against his repeatedly and my stomach swoops every time. Reign charges to the corner and I follow him. He turns back and our sticks hit, the momentum bringing my body forward. If this was in an actual ice arena, it would look like I’m about to check him into the boards. Except we’re outside, and there are no boards. Reign’s arms circle my waist and we go tumbling down onto the grassy edge together.

My body lands on top of his and I feel the air leave his lungs. I try to brace myself, but he cages his arms around me so I don’t have to. Only my knee hits the grass and I hear the small rip. Reign breathes hard underneath me and I take the chance to look at him, fully expecting a scowl and harsh words. I’m not prepared for the way his eyes flare and his hands tighten on my exposed skin. Somewhere in my head a voice is screaming at me to move. That we hate this guy. But my eyes still drop to his plump-as-sin lips anyways, like the brainwashed girl I am right now. His tongue pokes out, dotting his bottom lip, and the small motion breaks the trance I’m in.

“Shit, sorry.” I untangle from his limbs, trying to ignore the way his arms don’t just fall away. I jump up and run a hand over my hair. Reign gets up slower, adjusting his shorts. His back is covered in grass and dirt.

My eyes bug out. “Ahh. fuck. Let me.” I reach out my hands to rub the grime off of his tanned skin. Reign’s body goes still, everything hardening under my touch while I wipe the grass and dirt chunks off, my skin brushing over his.

Touching Reign was a mistake. Even though I only meant to help. He’s all warm, tight skin over bunching muscles. One simple touch makes my fingers tingle and I have insane thoughts of digging my nails into that skin. I pull back like I’ve been burned. My gaze darts up to his and I find him already watching me. His jaw is clenched, the blues of his eyes are a dark sapphire.

“Game is over! Coaches are here,” he suddenly yells to his team and everyone starts packing up. My eyes dart over to the other lot and sure enough, our coaches have arrived for the day in separate vehicles. I hadn’t even heard them drive up.

I open my mouth to apologize again or even ask what his problem is, but he starts walking away quickly. I grab my tank and put it back on before taking my rollerblades off.

“What’s his deal?” Emma and Sam slide up next to me.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

“I do.” Sam cackles. “He was titty-merized. I swear he never took his eyes off you once you stripped.”

My face scrunches and I fight a gag. “Yeah, no, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“I agree with Sam.” Emma tilts her head. “He was totally titty-whipped.”

My cheeks deepen in color and I can’t explain the rush of warmth in my chest. “You two are the worst.”

We start moving toward our cabins when Sam suddenly stops in her tracks. “Is that the new lifeguard?”

Emma and I glance at where she’s looking and sure enough a guy in red shorts and a black hoodie is down by the beach, moving flags and chairs around. “Must be.”

“I’ll definitely take him over Jolly-Roger any day.” Emma is gaping at the guy.

Roger is the campsite’s usual lifeguard and he has been for over ten years. He’s in his fifties and easily could sink in the water. But he’s nice and jolly, sort of like Santa Claus. This guy though looks a few years older than us, probably in college. His short blond hair is highlighted from the sun and his tan rivals Reign’s. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m thinking about him again. And his skin. Skin that I touched and he didn’t push me away.

---