Page 28 of The Rivals' Touch

She herds me along, but a deep voice rings out. “Sis, over here!”

I falter in my step, glancing over my shoulder. “You jinxed it, Brenda!”

She looks apologetic. “In my defense, it’s Zayd we’re talking about; he’s a notorious asshole.”

“You don’t say.”

“Come here, sis.”

I look at Brenda. “I can’t get out of it, can I? Is it too late to make a run for it?”

Her eyes are on Zayd and his friends behind me. “You can always try, but I wouldn’t recommend it. He’s faster than you.”

My mouth falls open. “You don’t know that. I’ve cheered since I was a toddler. My cardio is excellent.”

She meets my gaze and gives me a look. “He’s tall. And big! One of his steps is three of yours. You’ll tire quicker and then”—she slaps her hands together—“he’s got you!”

“What was that?” I ask, gesturing to her hands.

She looks confused. “What was what?”

“The hand thing?”

“Oh.” She clamps her hands together again. “Crocodile jaws. You know—chomp!”

“Chomp?”

She rolls her eyes but then turns white as a sheet. It takes me a moment to register the presence at my back. I look over my shoulder and crane my neck.

“Hi, sis.”

Fuck, he’s tall! Maybe it’s true that all basketball players are? Bennett is tall too. “Go away!”

Brenda chokes on air, and Zayd’s eyes sparkle as though my reply amuses him.

“Sit at my table.”

“Do you mind?” I push on his chest, forcing him back a step. I try to, at least—the man is a behemoth. “The answer is no. I’m not sitting at your table.”

He flicks his eyes to Brenda and lifts his chin. “Scoot!”

My mouth falls open. The fucking nerve of this guy! “Excuse me!” I look behind me, but Brenda is gone. I’ve never seen anyone hightail it so fast.

“My table. Now!” He walks off, expecting me to follow.

What?

Confused, I stare at his broad back as he weaves between tables. My feet move before I can stop them. “I’m not a dog that you can order around.”

He plops down in his chair, spreads his legs obnoxiously wide, and pats his jean-clad thigh. “Sit.”

I make an outraged sound in the back of my throat, causing Zayd’s friend, Jacob, to chuckle. I’m not comfortable with the audience we’re starting to attract.

Zayd smirks, then waves his phone in the air. “I suggest you do as you’re told, or I’m sure your boyfriend will appreciate a little message sent from me.”

I pounce on him and try to steal the phone out of his hand so I can delete the photograph. This fucking dickhead is messing with the wrong bitch.

Chuckling, he holds it out of reach while I climb him like a tree, and not in a sexy way. “I know you’re eager, but don’t you think we’re moving a little too fast? I should at least buy you dinner first.”

---