Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
The pyramid drills had tested everyone’s stamina, and the basket tosses had been the centerpiece, mine especially, launched hard and clean, with the wind slicing past my skin before I was caught in familiar hands. Across the field, the football team’s warm-ups bled into the atmosphere. The sound of their pads colliding. The low growl of voices as the coaches shouted like drill sergeants, each command layered beneath the echo of our music.
“Nice job, everyone!” Roxxi exclaimed, clapping her hands once as her eyes scanned the squad. “Way to push through.”
“You nailed it today,” Mrs. Gale echoed from the sideline, standing beside Mr. Kruger, who had reappeared today like a barely functioning ghost.
His too-bright eyes and jittery energy gave away more than he probably thought they did. The rumors about his cocaine use and marital issues weren’t anything new, though. Layla and Brooke bumped fists nearby, their laughter breathless, cheeks red from exertion. I bent to grab my water, still buzzing myself.
“You flew, girl,” Roxxi praised, nudging my arm as she came up beside me. “You never let me down.”
“Thanks,” I rasped with a smile. “But you know I couldn’t do it without Noah and Kellan, and our amazing team captain.”
“I am pretty damn amazing, huh?”
I laughed and turned to watch the football team, already knowing exactly where my eyes would land. Ryder stood near the 40-yard line, helmet tucked under one arm, barking out instructions to his offense. His voice carried: firm, focused, completely in command. His dark practice jersey clung to him, and for once, he wasn’t wearing sleeves underneath. The ink on his arms was on full display, all sharp lines and significance I probably knew too well.
“You look like you’re about to combust,” Roxxi leaned over and whispered.
“Shut up,” I hissed under my breath.
She gave me a slow, knowing grin. “Not a single girl or guy here would blame you. He looks like a sin and salvation rolled into one today.” She swept her eyes over the guys on the field and the benched players. “A few of them do.”
“Don’t go getting our players in trouble, Roxxi,” I warned jokingly.
Layla strolled up and stood on my other side. “Checking out your boy again?”
I opened my mouth to reply when Brooke’s voice carried from a few feet away. “Ashton?”
“Who else?” I responded smoothly, careful to keep my expression neutral.
“Ryder,” Layla corrected slowly. “Number twelve. The one who throws sixty-yard passes and still manages to check if you’ve stuck your landings.”
“It isn’t like that,” I argued quietly.
“Isn’t it?”
I stiffened, my eyes cutting toward Roxxi. She was standing like a statue beside me, arms folded, gaze trained on Layla like she was seconds away from removing her head from her shoulders.
Brooke frowned. “They’re friends, Layla. Relax.”
I smiled through my discomfort. “She knows that, so I’m not sure what the point of acting like this is.”
Layla didn’t respond, her gaze still fixed on the field. I didn’t know what her deal was, or where this sudden burst of boldness and passive-aggressive energy came from, but I wasn’t in the mood. She’d spent the whole day being apologetic, right up until I texted her about the unlocked door and told her she couldn’t come and go freely anymore. I would’ve said it to her face, but I hadn’t seen her since the bird incident. In hindsight, I should’ve known she would take it personally.
Layla wasn’t one to start drama, but her emotions ran deep. When she got overwhelmed or too caught up in her own head, it bubbled over. I was used to that. What I wasn’t accustomed to was it being directed at me, especially over a simple safety boundary, and after what happened the night prior. I hadn’t even brought up her leaving me this morning. At this point, I wasn’t sure it mattered.
Brooke laughed lightly, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s fine, really, Sanj. I get it. You two have always been close.”
Something in her tone hit off-key. Not quite jealousy, but fragile resignation. Like she knew she wasn’t imagining things and didn’t want to believe it. One more careless comment could blow this whole moment up, and I wasn’t about to be the one to light up the match. Brittany must’ve felt the tension too.
She sent me a look, her brows pinched as if silently asking: You okay?
I gave a faint shake of my head to convey: Yeah. I’ve got it.
That’s when Roxxi stepped forward, which was never a good thing. Roxxi didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. She’d cut you open with kindness, smiling sweetly the whole time.
“I’m not sure why this is a topic up for debate,” she said, her voice light, almost gentle. “I’ll be the first to say it, though. He’s mine. And Ari’s. Cloe’s too.” She paused, eyes glinting. “Ironically, he was Sanjana’s first, but I’ve never felt the need to compete with her. I mean… that would be setting myself up for some pretty harsh humiliation, don’t you think? Because if it came down to it, he’d always choose her.” She turned her gaze directly to Layla. “Do you get what I mean by that?”