Page 49 of My Ruthless Opponent

Raleigh said he would call me today. But he didn’t mention at what time. So, I am anxiously waiting for it.

I am perfectly aware that I am still in my pajamas—black satin shorts set—and yet to shower. But it’s Sunday. After the shitty night, my procrastinating is justified.

Staring endlessly at my phone is doing more damage to my inner peace than I’d like.

To distract my mind, I leave the phone on the kitchen counter and decide to burn some calories.

The next hour passes in my leg workout.

Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I check my phone again. I never leave my phone in silent mode. Today is no different. It's fully charged and it's not on silent mode. That means there’s nothing wrong with my phone. That bastard forgot to call me.

I stomp to my bathroom.

If he forgot about last night, I can remind him. If my calling him shows I am desperate, so be it. I am desperate and Raleigh is the only hope for my desperation.

I melt under the hot shower, washing away the tiredness from my bones.

I take my time in applying the shampoo and massaging my scalp.

I try to keep my mind empty but thoughts about the contract, the fake engagement, and Archer keep barging in.

How am I going to explain this shitshow to Archer? He is going to be so disappointed in me.

Deceiving my only good friend for my selfish reasons? What does that make me? A liar. And he hates liars.

But Archer is the one to put me in this dilemma. No, I am being unreasonable here.

Archer is a businessman first, then my friend.

Truth is, my rivalry with Raleigh was getting out of hand. The high of beating each other month after month became our prime focus.

This game became so addictive, we started taking every win and defeat personally. And somewhere along the line, we unintentionally forced Archer to take such a big step.

He has done so much for me. Can I look him in the eye and lie?

This can ruin the only good relationship I have.

Archer was there to help me when my life was ruined. He was there when I went through a nasty breakup with Andrew.

He might be the only guy who can see right through me. Poker face or not. If I do this, I am putting my years of friendship with him in jeopardy.

Pressure begins to build in my chest at the thought of losing my only friend.

My stomach is still tied up in knots long after my shower.

Shaking off the depressing thoughts, I dry myself with a towel and dress in an oversized t-shirt, wearing only panties underneath it.

The t-shirt barely reaches my upper thighs and it’s thin enough that you could easily see my b-cup breasts.

Today is my day. There’s no way in hell I’m caging my boobs in a bra on a Sunday.

I rarely leave the apartment on the weekend.

The last couple of months have been crazy busy for me to even go out and get laid. And judging by the current circumstances, I don’t think sex is on the agenda for the next month or so.

Using the hair towel, I dry my hair and walk through the narrow hallway.

My apartment is small but it’s been my home for the past year.

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