Page 64 of Matched By My Rival
“I punched you in the face, Parker!”
I winced. “Okay, yeah, I could have done without that, but I understand.”
He shook his head. “How could you understand something like that?”
“You were freaking out. All those injuries. The fear of losing the sport you loved. I get it.”
I might not love football with the same passion Simon did, but I could understand how much it meant to him. I could understand how it became someone’s whole universe. Maybe that was part of the reason I’d begun to question my place on the team. Shouldn’t the universe be bigger than one sport?
I wet my lips. “You know, I’d have traded places with you if I could have.”
Simon gave me a death glare. “Bullshit.”
“I would have,” I insisted. “I never wanted you off the team. Ilikedyou. I’ve always liked you.”
The glare intensified, giving me goosebumps.
“Then you should have hit me back, asshole!”
“Sorry?” I said, laughing a little at his reaction.
Without warning, he tackled me sideways, knocking me onto my back and straddling my waist.
“Whoa!” I laughed as he pinned me. “Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t have looked nearly as bad if you’d hit me back.”
“You were fragile—”
He twisted my nipple in retribution, and I quickly corrected, “I mean, big and strong, but injured, bravely, on the playing field where you were king.”
“Idiot.”
I smiled, and I knew I had to look goofy as fuck. “I’ve always been stupid where you’re concerned.”
Simon snorted. “Ditto.”
“Seriously, though, I could never hit this face.” I raised a palm to cup his cheek.
He closed his eyes, and for one brief moment I could see everything I felt written on his face. Simon wasn’t the impenetrable force he sometimes seemed to be.
Then he opened his eyes and grimaced. “Clearly, I can’t say the same thing. I regret it.”
I mock gasped. “Is that an apology? Did Simon Prentiss just apologize for something?”
He scoffed. “Fuck no, I don’t apologize. You laughed in my face. And you could have dodged! You could have fought back. You made me look like a violent asshole. Clearly, this is entirely your fault.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you. Just the situation. You jealous of Kristin and me.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, so?”
I needed to choose my words wisely. “I wasn’t interested in her. Ever. And you were so mad, and I just wanted…”
“Wanted what?”
I grabbed his hips, twisting so that he rolled beneath me. Our legs tangled, and I didn’t ask, just pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. “This. I wanted this. From you.”
“A kiss?”
