Page 35 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

“You’re slipping.” He sits across from me, leaning his elbows on the desk. It’s covered in papers, but he doesn’t seem to care. The whole office is organized chaos.

“Not sure how you mean, Coach.” Grades are fine—better than fine—and I’m running again. We haven’t started practice, but I’ll be in tip-top shape soon enough.

Okay, it was just the one run. But we’re getting back into it.

Not that I ever really lost it.

“This girl.” He flashes a photo at me. The disastrous photo that caused half the school to turn on Margo. But hey, at least the video was scrubbed from the servers.

I did something right for once.

“What about her?”

“Is she going to fuck with your head?” He slams the phone down, grimacing. “Teenagers are brutal. But you’re not just a teenager. You’re the captain.”

A golden boy.

School royalty.

“You’re not telling me anything new.” I lean back. Fuck Coach and thinking this sport gives him free reign over my life. Over what I do with Margo. “She isn’t a problem.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So you weren’t about to skip.”

“No one fucking cares, Coach.”

He lunges across the desk and grabs my shirt collar, jerking me up. “Don’t play that game with me.”

I glance down at his fingers curled in the fabric at my throat.

We clash sometimes. He’s the original golden boy—the original asshole who ruled Emery-Rose when he was a student. Football and lacrosse god with a temper to match his infamy.

“Fine,” I grit out.

“Smooth sailing,” Coach says. “Now until graduation. Your choice of schools, right?”

He releases me, and I slowly retake my seat. He does the same.

“Where are you applying?”

I shrug. “Mom wants me to go for Harvard.”

He snorts. “And?”

“And I’m thinking…” I don’t know.

It’s forever away.

“Deadlines are approaching,” he says. “You toured schools over the summer.”

“Have you been talking to my mother?” My anger is waking up again. How dare she call my coach? “Is that what prompted this whole fucking thing?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Coach.”

“Cool it, Caleb. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Because she—”

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