Page 39 of Distorted Obsession

“I don’t know which brother you are, but it sounds good.”

Chuckling, he replies, “I’m Coop. The less handsome one behind us is Colt.”

“We’re identical, fucker. If I’m ugly, so the fuck are you,” Colt snickers, speeding up to walk with us.

“Not true. You came out last, so you got whatever good looks I left you,” Coop retorts.

Amused, I listen to their banter as they bicker back and forth. It reminds me of when Mase and I are verbally sparring.

Colt lightly pushes his brother’s shoulder. “You wish you were this good-looking.”

“You should be happy Mom took pity on you. At least you don’t look like a troll,” Cooper quips.

We’re inside the locker room when they stop ragging on each other.

“Y’all are a trip. What time should I get there?” I inquire while I undress.

“Let’s grab something to eat at the food court, and then we can all head to our apartment and go over the reels together.”

I nod, pulling my jersey over my head before loosening the padding. “Works for me. Meet you out front in like thirty.”

“We also have something we’d like to discuss,” Colt states, garnering my attention.

“Do tell,” I request, wrapping my towel around my waist.

When I’m met with silence, I peer over to where they stand and arch a brow.

“Not here. Once we get to our house,” Coop explains before they turn and walk away, leaving me to wonder what they want to discuss away from prying ears.

16

eva

“Eva,where the hell did you learn to serve like that?” Jade questions. “You’re a fucking sharpshooter. You point to a spot on the court, and it’s landing there too fast for it to be stopped.”

Camiel nods and then adds, “You keep swinging like that, and you’ll probably be scouted for the U.S. Olympic team.”

My cheeks bloom red at the attention she’s drawing as we enter the food court and head toward the stations.

“How do you think this week’s game will go?” Ayana asks while picking up a salad bowl. Her jet-black hair is braided back into two, allowing you to see a peek at the Lion of Judah tattoo on her back.

“I’ve been watching Texas State games, and they have at least three girls with a mean jump float serve,” I mutter before taking my chopped salad from the person behind the counter and thanking them.

Ayana, Camiel, and Jade hum their agreement as we get in line to pay the cashier.

We wait until we’re seated before anyone speaks again.

“They also have a girl who likes to tip it over, making it damn near impossible to keep the ball in play,” I state.

“But we have an answer for that,” Jade replies after sipping her lemon water.

We went over at least a dozen plays during practice today, and I have the floor burn and bruises to prove it.

“That spike, Eva,” Jade exclaims. “That mother fucking spike, bitch!”

The tips of my ears heat as people stare at all the commotion. “Stop it. We all kicked ass out on the court today,” I say, trying to shift the attention off of me.

“Of course we did, but this isn’t about us. It’s about you,” Jade admonishes. “You need to own your wins the same way you own your losses, Pierce. Don’t make me break out my affirmations app on you.”

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