Page 124 of The Rivals' Touch

Bleary-eyed, I wipe the condensation off the mirror. My towel is barely hanging on, so I adjust it before grabbing the end of the toothbrush in my mouth and giving my teeth a good scrub. It’s game day.

Zayd and the others have tried to talk to me more times than I can count. Jacob even managed to corner me again, and just like the first time, he broke through my defenses.

I spit toothpaste in the sink, rinse my mouth with water, and place the toothbrush back in the holder. It’s past eight in the morning, and Abigail will be here shortly to pick me up for school.

When I open the bathroom door, I pause.

Zayd is standing right outside with a determined look in his eyes that spells trouble. I try to close the bathroom door again, but I’m not fast enough. Zayd pushes his way in and flips the lock.

He’s dressed for school in a gray hoodie and ripped black jeans.

“What the fuck, Zayd! You can’t be in here!” I hiss, clutching my tiny towel to my chest like a lifeline.

His hand shoots out, and he wraps his fingers around my throat. “You listen to me, and you listen to me good! I’m going fucking insane without you!”

“Zay—”

His mouth comes down on mine, hard and insistent. It’s neither gentle nor sweet. He’s angry, nipping my lip with his teeth until I taste blood. “I’m in love with you!”

I try to shove him away, but I kiss him back instead and tear at his clothing. “Let me go!”

My towel falls to the floor, on top of his white chucks. His hand is on my throat, and his other is in my hair. He holds me in place while he guides the kiss. I have no choice but to clutch his hoodie and take what he gives. His tongue plunders. His teeth nip and bite, and his hands rob me of my willpower.

“Ask me to fight for you!”

I moan into his mouth; my pussy throbs with need. He tightens his grip on my hair until it hurts, and his heart thunders like hooves beneath my touch.

“Fight for me,” I whisper, knowing it’s the last thing I should tell him. I should push him away, scream, shout, do anything other than slide my hands beneath his hoody, across his taut abs. But I can’t. I’m in love with him.

“Babe,” he breathes, kissing me deeply, slowly, as if we have all the time in the world and my father and his threats don’t lurk downstairs. His skin is warm beneath my fingers. I scrape my nails across the hard muscle, making him grunt into my mouth.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Zayd!” It’s his mother.

Zayd reluctantly pulls away and releases a string of curses under his breath. “Yeah?”

“I need to talk to you.”

His brown eyes collide with mine; he wets his lips, stroking his fingers along my jaw. “I’ll be right out.”

I kiss the palm of his hand. I don’t deserve this moment, knowing what I’m about to do to sever this tie between us. But I’m selfish, so I steal it for myself. I hold his gaze as I grab his hand and kiss each finger. Then his palm, my lips lingering on his skin.

His eyes follow my movements intently, and he swallows thickly. “I need to go.”

“So go!” I wrap my lips around his pointy finger and suck on the tip, storing away the look in his eyes for a time when it will be replaced by hatred. “I want you to know,” I whisper against his skin. “That no matter what happens, this moment was real.”

Fighting back the tears, I drop his hand.

“I’ll see you at school, okay?”

“Sure.”

He walks out, and I’m left with his smell on my skin and a growing sense of dread. I finally break, and my heart splits in two as wracking sobs tear through my body. Why does love have to hurt? Is this the price I have to pay for not guarding my heart?

I slide down the wall and reach for my towel. Everything is about to change.

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