Page 6 of The Rivals' Touch

My eyes snap to my father. “Stepbrother?”

The woman giggles and places her hand on my father’s chest; her nails are manicured to perfection, and her engagement ring is a huge rock that sparkles underneath the overhead light. “We’re getting married!”

I feel sick.

Zayd is smirking. Dressed in dark-gray chinos and a button-down, white, muscle shirt, he looks delicious enough to eat, but I would never admit that out loud. I look away.

“Take your seats,” my dad says, motioning to the table.

“Chinos? Really?” I whisper under my breath when Zayd lowers himself down next to me.

His smirk grows. “I was told to dress up.”

“What’s next? The debate team? Chess club? Mathletes?”

He eyes my dress. “What about you? Last time I checked, you’re not the mayor’s daughter or running for president.”

I ignore him and thank the waitress for putting mouthwatering food on my plate, even if I can’t stomach it.

“So, Remi. I hear you enjoy cheerleading like our Legacy.”

Her name reminds me of nails on a chalkboard, but I plaster on a sugary smile to appease my father. “Yes, I’ve done cheerleading since I first learned to walk.” I take a large gulp of water, wishing it was pure vodka, or something equally strong to burn my insides.

She sips her red wine. “You’ll fit right in with the cheer team at Aycliffe High.”

I choke on my drink, and it takes me a long fucking moment to stop coughing. Zayd decides to be helpful and slap my back, but I bat him off. “I’m not cheering for Aycliffe High.”

My father cuts into his steak. Blood seeps out onto the plate. “We already discussed this, Remi. I’ve secured you a place on the team.”

“Thank you, Father, but I quit.”

His knife stops slicing, and dread pools low in my stomach. “Youarecheering for your new stepbrother. It’s not up for debate!” His eyes say, ‘We’ll have this discussion later.’

Youarecheering for your new stepbrother.

My eyes clash with Zayd’s. I hate how smug he looks. “Over my dead body, will I ever cheer for you!”

He leans in close, glancing at our parents to ensure they aren’t listening. “Oh, you’ll do more than cheer for me in that uniform. I can’t wait to fuck you in it!”

I rear back. “In your fucking dreams!”

Suddenly gifted with super hearing, my father slams his hand down on the table, making me jump in my seat. “Young lady! No such foul language in my house!”

I shrink, fisting my hands beneath the table to stop myself from screaming with anger. “Sorry.”

He eyes me for a moment longer before picking up his knife and cutting into the meat on his plate. “After dinner, I want you to start packing your bags. We move on Friday.”

Zayd laughs under his breath when my mouth falls open. I’m outraged, but I have to reign in those emotions with my father around. “I’m not moving.”

My father chews, his cold eyes boring into me. He picks up the white napkin by the side of his plate and dabs his mouth. “This is a discussion for later.”

Tears blur my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. I pick up my knife and fork and take out my frustration on the slab of meat on my plate. Life is so fucking unfair!

Zayd leans in again. “Your room is next to mine, but I’ll keep you warm in my bed.”

I stab a piece of meat and bring it to my lips. “Let’s invite Legacy too. I’m sure she would love that!”

He watches me place the meat on my tongue and wrap my lips around the fork. I want to say it’s not deliberate, but that would be a lie. I get a strange rush from pushing him.

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