Page 18 of This Is War: All's Fair Duet
He spits back, “Notyour little brother. And I could say the same for you. I’ve had minimal interaction with CoachKimball before yesterday.” His voice comes out rough as I squeeze his throat, but to his credit, he doesn’t back down. Irritation fills his eyes as he attempts to wrench free of my hold, but I’m quick to brace my forearm over his chest, effectively pinning him in place.
“Cry me a fuckin’ river, dickweed,” I growl as I study him.
He aims a look of pure wrath at me. “Now he’s convinced I’m some sort of bad”—he shoves at the ball of my shoulder—“fucking seed, out to cause trouble.”
I’m like a stone wall in front of him, though, unmoving as I narrow my gaze. “You are.”
His chest rises and falls several times, grabbing at my wrist and arm to try to pry me off him. He stares coldly at me, as if I’m making no sense. “Arewhat?”
“A bad seed. You’re here to cause me trouble,” I growl, leaning into my stance now.
“What the fuck ever. Stay. Away. From me.” He shoves me in the chest. Hard. And it’s just enough to get me to loosen my grip on his neck. Interestingly, he doesn’t move away. Instead, he tilts his head to the side and through clenched teeth, grits out, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking moving into the dorm, but do us both a favor, and back the fuck off.” His jaw twitches, anger shooting from his eyes. “And you can stay away from Rya, too, while you’re at it.”
Nose to nose, I slowly shake my head, then shoot him a wicked grin, fully intending for it to piss him off. His lip curls.Good, success.“None of your fuckin’ business why I’m in the dorm. And no, I won’t stay away from Rya.” The venom filling my voice practically drips from my lips. “Not unless she asks me to.” I draw in a breath and realize we’re so close my chest brushes his. It makes him jerk in surprise, which is probably why I get a chance to grab his wrists and pin them against the door. He blinks, clearly thrown. I smirk. Dampening my lips, I lean in close once again because it’s making him uncomfortable as hell from the stuttered breath he’s just taken. One of my brows arches as I whisper roughly, “And right now, man, I hate to tell you, but your girl isn’t telling me to back off. In fact, she’s seeking me out. Wants every fucking thing I have to offer her. And I’m going to take her from you. It’ll be so fucking easy. The girl is ripe for the picking. Why is it that you haven’t been able to give her what she needs? You’re pathetic.”
The pure hatred in his gaze tells me everything I need to know. I’ve struck a dissonant chord with my words. Grasping him by the shirt, I shove him out of my way, whip the door open, and stalk out.
In the locker room, I keep my head down, choosing not to let anyone see that I’m pissed off. They already saw the beginning of Coach laying into us. They don’t need tosee any fucking more than that. Don’t need to know that after the warning we received I yanked his ass into the closet with me to sort things through inmyway. He’s lucky I didn’t put my fist in his face and give him a couple of bruises to match mine.
Not feeling like freezing my nuts off in the ice bath today, I opt for a hot shower, instead. I strip out of my clothes and grab a towel, sighing as I turn around to head to the showers, only to come face-to-face with Logan again. My expression hardens as I slowly lock eyes with him. “Get the fuck outta my way.”
“I just wanted to tell you one thing.” Logan folds his arms across his chest, idly scanning the room for unwanted listeners before focusing back on me.
A disgruntled laugh bursts from me.This prick… “And what’s that?”
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip as he eyes me. His voice is rough and gritty as it exits him, like the words are being scraped over gravel. “You think you’re taking her away from me. You’re not. But understand this: if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you fuckin’ regret it every day of your miserable life.”
I arch a brow. That fire in him. It’s interesting. But I don’t know what the fuck he means by what he’s said, and at this particular moment, I need to remove myself before I do something I’ll regret. Because my stepbrother?There’s never been anyone else who can drive me to lose control the way I do when we’re forced into a situation like this. He’s like a plague. Showed up and decimated my life. My dad definitely likes him more than he does me. Why wouldn’t he? According to my sperm donor, Logan is more talented. Has a brighter future. I turn my back on him, letting him think whatever he wants.
After spending an extra-long time in the shower, I shut off the water, standing there for almost a full minute, listening to nothing more than the madness inside my own head. The shower didn’t do anything to calm me down, so thank fuck there’s not a soul left in the locker room.
From across the room, the sound of a phone vibrating in my locker grabs my attention. Setting aside all the bullshit from earlier, I hurry over and grab my duffel, quickly unzipping it and digging out my phone. Thumbing open my text messages, I read a handful of messages waiting for me from my mom.
I wanted you to know I’m sorry that it’s come to this.
I hope everything is going okay.
This isn’t what you wanted, I know.
And I hope you can find your focus despite everything.
Anguish churning in my gut, I shut off my phone without responding and sit heavily on the bench. The phone clatters to the floor as it slips from my fingers. I drop my head into my hands and let my eyes drift shut.
Focus.Oh, I’m focused, all right. Just not on what my mother would prefer.
11
RYA
Exhausted from back-to-back dance classes,one modern and one lyrical, I lean against a wall near the front exit of the gymnasium. My body aches, but I’m exhilarated. If there’s one truth I can readily admit to, it’s that dance is ingrained in my muscles and bones, but even more so, it’s in my heart and soul. There’s nothing quite like the pull I feel when the music infiltrates my system, and I feel the urge to move to it. It doesn’t matter whether it’s choreography or improvisation, allowing myself to do what comes naturally when the rhythm takes over iseverything. Dance is life. Has been since I was a very young girl slipping on my first pair of ballet slippers.
I want to perform on the stage under the glare of the lights, feel the rush that comes with the knowledge that thousands of eyes are on me, watching my every move.
I release a long sigh that deflates my chest.Where is Logan?He should be here by now to meet me. We made plans to grab food together, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He should have gotten out of practice a while ago. Pulling out my phone, I fire off a few texts to see if I got our meeting place or time wrong.Doubtful, but could be.
My attention shifts, and peering down the hall, I listen for any sign of a straggler leaving the men’s locker room. The longer I wait, the more concerned I am that I somehow misunderstood our plans, because this isn’t like Logan at all. I huff out breath. There’s no way that’s what’s happening, because Logan was insistent on me waiting for him so we could have dinner. The anticipation of whatever he needs to say has been distracting, but I’m hopeful he’s finally ready to discuss what’s going on between him and Jaxon. And if I’m honest, I’m also nervous to explain the odd connection his stepbrother and I seem to have. I don’t see Jaxon as this horrible person like Logan does. Tucking a few stray hairs back into the high bun on top of my head, I swallow hard. Logan had been so bent out of shape last night, I’d ditched the idea of the heart-to-heart I’d originally suggested and insisted we watch a movie instead. Maybe that had been a mistake. We should have sorted things, talked through everything. We’ve always been open and honest with each other. Mostly, anyway.
The problem is Logan’s never posed the rightquestions. I chew on the corner of my lip, considering. Maybe there’d be more trouble if he did come up with them—the questions that would force me to admit the crush I’ve had on him for over a year now.
