Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,28
Xander are the team’s strikers, but now, Xander is playing defence. A position he doesn’t usually play.
What? I might have been listening when Kim told me about the home games she watched last year.
Aiden goes for the ball, leaving a few of his opponents behind. Just when he’s gaining momentum towards the net, Xander tackles him with brute force. Aiden hits the ground with a thud.
A few gasps escape from the girls around me. Even our coach stops and stares.
The audience who gathered to watch the practice fall silent, their mouths hanging open.
That’s the effect Aiden has on people. Even though RES’s known for academics, they’ve been obsessed with football these past few years. They’re dreaming about another championship after the one last year.
Xander doesn’t even reach down to help Aiden. Cole and Ronan do. Coach Larson, a middle-aged man with a bald head and bushy brows, hits Xander with a paper bat on his shoulder.
If he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. All he does is cut a poker-faced Aiden a deadly glare.
“Wow. Knight is tense,” one of the girls whispers from behind me.
“I know, right?” Another replies. “He’s like out for blood.”
So I’m not the only one who noticed that.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Aiden and Xander at each other’s throat.
The captain, Cole, and the coach speak to Xander on the sidelines.
Judging from Coach Larson’s reddening cheeks, he doesn’t look so happy.
I snort. Of course, he wouldn’t be. I’m sure he’s barely stopping himself from murdering Xander for touching his star. Aiden is the ace striker, and strikers always get full credit, no matter how many good assists they get.
Still warming up, I search for Aiden. He stands near the bench, gripping a bottle of sports drink, but his attention isn’t on the drink or on Xander or on Ronan who’s talking to him.
It’s on me.
I freeze in the middle of stretching my hand behind my back. The position thrusts my breasts against my tracksuit. Aiden’s gaze trails down to the curve of my breasts slowly. Too slowly. It’s painful.
My throat closes. I feel like pumping air out of my lungs, gasping, and begging for breath.
When his metallic eyes slide back to mine, they’re full of undisclosed hunger.
Raw.
Furious.
I can’t breathe even if I want to. I feel like if I take one breath, he’ll jump me.
For two years, I got used to murderous glares from him. What’s up with this one?
I can take his hateful looks. Hell, I want us to go back to the hateful looks’ stage. At least back then, I wasn’t rattled out of my mind.
But this look? This hunger? This one I can’t take.
I break eye contact first. He can play whatever game he wants on his own.
The practice goes well for the most part. It’s after the fourth loop that exhaustion starts to settle in.
I take more pauses for water than necessary. My record keeps slowing down.
Now and then, when I look into the football pitch, I find Aiden’s destabilising eyes on me.
God damn him.
After practice, Coach calls me into her office as the other girls head into the shower.
Coach Nessrine has olive skin and dark blue eyes that give her an exotic look.
“Everything okay, Quinn?” Her brows furrow. “Your numbers weren’t optimal by the end. Have you been practising during the summer?”
“I have.” I swallow. “I’ll work hard. I promise.”
“Is it your heart condition?” she asks.
When I told Aunt Blair I want to run, she refused. Uncle and I did everything to coax her. She only agreed with her terms. One of them being that my coach knows about my heart condition and to always call her if anything comes up.
I can’t be removed from the team’s line up. Running is what keeps me alive.
“No. It’s only because of the season’s changes.”
Coach Nessrine nods, but she doesn’t seem convinced. We spend another twenty minutes strategising our next competition before I head to the showers.
The last of the girls leave the locker room. I release a relieved breath as I shimmy out of my clothes and step into the shower.
My head tips back as water cascades over me. I pretend it’s the rain soaking me and washing away all impurities.
Once I’m done, I scrub my hands clean and wrap a towel around my torso while stepping out of the shower.
A small rustle comes from the other side. Must be Coach who came to lock up.