Page 89 of The Rivals' Touch

She moves her head on the pillow and searches my face. “Your chin. It’s bruising.”

It’s throbbing with pain. “Don’t worry.”

“Bennett did that?”

My voice is barely audible when I reply, “Yes…”

Her jaw turns to granite, and she looks back up at the ceiling. “Zayd and Jacob will sort him out.”

I lift my head off the pillow. “No! Absolutely not!”

She looks confused as her hazel eyes settle on mine. “Why?”

“I told you. It’s complicated. I have no choice but to marry Bennett. Zayd and Jacob, they would only make it worse!”

She’s silent for a moment before looking away. “You’re not marrying Bennett!” She stands up and straightens her clothing. “I’ll get us something to eat.”

As the door clicks shut, I reach for my phone on the floor.

Bennett: Remember what I said! Don’t test me on it!

I tap out of his message without replying. Screw him!

Just as I go to put my phone down, it vibrates with a new text message.

Unknown number: Where are you?

Me: Who is this?

A selfie pops up on the screen of Zayd in bed. He’s shirtless, watching TV with his arm behind his head. His dark hair is unruly, like he ran his hand through it numerous times, and the tattoos on his skin look delicious in the light from the TV.

It’s impossible not to let my eyes linger on his defined abs, imagining myself tracing the sharp lines with my tongue and following that dark trail of hair…

I take a selfie and make sure to get the wallpaper in the picture.

Me: Recognize this room?

It takes him seconds to reply.

Zayd: What are you doing at Legacy’s?

Me: Been in her bedroom a lot?

I’m not jealous. Nope, not at all. My mind isn’t drifting to thoughts of him and her on this bed.

The door opens, and Legacy steps inside with a tray in her hands. “I got us some sandwiches and snacks.”

Zayd: Want me to lie?

I place the phone on the bed as Legacy puts the tray down next to me and sits down.

“I don’t know what you like, so I got a mixture of things.” She points them out. “There’s ham. Cheese. Ham and cheese if you like them together. Oh, and there’s tuna.”

“It’s perfect.” I pick one up and take a bite, watching her do the same. The silence between us is comfortable.

“What?” she asks, brushing crumbs off her bottom lip when she notices me watching.

I shake my head. “I guess I’m trying to figure you out.”

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