Page 49 of The Rivals' Touch

My phone rings for the third time. Unable to face my friends back home, I lean back against my headboard and wait for it to ring out again. Cali has called me twice, and Bennett rang once earlier, but I don’t feel ready to talk to them. What I did today is unacceptable. It doesn’t matter that Zayd and Jacob have those photos of me. I shouldn’t have gone down on Zayd, and I was wrong to let Legacy get me off because I was too fucking horny to have common sense.

I cheated on my boyfriend.

But it’s not all doom and gloom. Aside from my bad life choices, my father isn’t home, and I feel a sense of peace I only ever experience when he’s away on business trips. When he’s home, I always fear him losing his temper. It’s a dread that simmers beneath the surface, but not now.

The house is quiet. Zayd is due to return home soon from a late night of shooting hoops with his friends at the local basketball court. It’s not as if I eavesdrop on his conversations or anything.

My phone rings again, and this time I pick it up. I can’t avoid my life back home forever.

“Babe,” Bennett says when the call connects, and his voice is as deep and raspy as I remember it. Not that I’ve been gone long.

“Hi.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you!”

I smile despite myself. “What’s that?”

“They postponed the game this weekend, so I booked a bus ticket to come and see you.”

I stiffen, then, as if kickstarted like an old car, my heart starts pounding. A sense of unease settles in my stomach. I roll my head and stare at my reflection in the window. “That’s great.”

“Cali wants to come too, but I dissuaded her,” he says, chuckling.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s good.”

“You know what she’s like. She won’t let me get a word in if she’s there.”

I swallow thickly.

Tell me you want my hands on your body—my lips on your skin.

“She’s good at talking,” I agree.

“Good at talking? She never shuts up!”

Kiss each other!

“I miss you, Bennett!”

His breath sounds in my ear. “I miss you too, babe.”

I wipe away a stray tear as the front door slams shut.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?” I sit up in bed.

“We’re playing your team again soon. The game has been moved up.”

I drag my eyes away from the door and furrow my brows. “When was that announced?”

“I only found out today.”

Zayd’s feet thunder up the stairs, but he’s not alone. Jacob’s voice filters through the walls amidst the sound of giggling girls.

Annoyance flares up inside me and I tense, grinding my jaw. This feeling, this sense of unwelcome possessiveness, is the problem. I don’t fucking want to feel it. Why do I care who they fuck?

Well, two can play this game. It’s petty, but I turn on my phone camera so they can hear Bennett through the wall. I refuse to let them think I’m alone and pathetic in my bedroom while they fuck girls next door.

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