Page 49 of The Substitute
“It’s not a game.”
“I fucking know it is. Just tell me what it will take to get you to back off,” Ambrose hisses.
“I’m serious. I like Tobi. I’m not backing off.”
Ambrose grinds his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. “I was already interested in him before you even fucking knew he existed.”
“And?” I ask, not giving him a fucking inch.
“So I get to date him!”
I’m already annoyed, and Ambrose thinking I’d hand him anything just pisses me off more. “Why the fuck do you think you get to lay claim to him?”
“Because you only started this to piss me off.”
I laugh, hard. “That doesn’t fucking matter. I like him.”
“I’m not backing down. So what the fuck are we doing?” Ambrose gets in my face, and as the second person today, I’m already itching for it.
“If I break my hand and we lose this weekend, it’s your fault.”
“Okay, I’ll take the blame. It’s good for my team if you lose,” Ambrose says, lips forming into a huge grin, only making me want to punch him more.
“Fuck you.” I shove him back. “I will fight you for him.”
He staggers one step, caught off guard, but quickly recovers and is back chest to chest. “So we’re fucking fighting this out?”
I look him over and as much as I want to hit him, I know that will only end in Coach Hawke making me see the psychologist,so I keep my hands to myself. “Not physically. We’ll let Tobi pick. May the best man win and all.”
Ambrose scowls. “Fine.”
“No fucking cheating by asking him to go solo with you. You already are cheating by living with him.”
“I’m hardly cheating. I didn’t choose to live with him.”
“You can take my apartment for a couple of weeks, and I’ll take the dorm,” I say like a smart ass.
“Not a fucking chance.”
“I didn’t think so. It’s agreed that’s an advantage.”
He huffs but doesn’t argue.
“Great. And no complaining when I win.”
“You’re not fucking winning.”
EIGHTEEN
TOBI
Ambrose and I have settled into a truce, one that involves cuddling sometimes, and I don’t want to admit I like it. A lot.
“Eat,” Ambrose demands, as some kind of breakfast sandwich is shoved in my face.
The strong scent of egg and sausage assaults my nose, and I jerk back from it. “No thanks.”
We’ve been spending a lot more time together, but he’s taken on a kind of caretaking role, and while I like it, he doesn’t have any fucking chill.
