crests, and tears fill my eyes, grateful and gutted. I can come with him. Now I know how.
But God… What the hell is going on in my head?
I hear something and open my eyes, seeing Liv through the crack in the curtain. It lays open six inches, and she stands there, a stack of shoe boxes next to her on the table as she stares at us.
Her gaze falls, and I know she sees her underwear. She sees Callum Ames with his hands all over them, and I can’t help the pleasure I feel in my stomach as I watch her watch me rub up on him a little more.
I linger on her chest, the faintest points of her nipples poking through her black T-shirt, the tan skin of her stomach peeking out the bottom. She’s not wearing a bra, and my fingers hum, another moan escaping as I feel myself slide my hands up her shirt.
“Clay,” he says again against my neck.
But I don’t blink as I look at her. “The ball,” I tell him. “After the ball. All night.”
He can have me all night. I’ll like it. I know I’ll like it.
Liv’s eyes narrow, the muscle in her jaw flexing, and I know she didn’t hear me, she’s probably just mad her plan to piss me off with the dress didn’t work.
I matter, you brat. You don’t. You can’t just run from me. You’ll leave here, but you’ll do it knowing you never survived me. Not really.
We still have months, Jaeger. The fun is just beginning.
I RACE DOWN the field, sweat dripping down my back as the lights shine overhead. The crowd in the stands cheers or yells unintelligible orders like they’d be doing any better if they were out here.
Skidding to a halt, I whip around, find Clay, and pound my stick on the grass twice. “Here!” I shout.
She meets my eyes, both of us panting, and tosses the ball over to Ruby Ingram instead. I squeeze my fist around the stick, grit my teeth, and watch for all of two seconds before fucking Ruby loses the ball, and the other team speeds back down the field toward our goal with their prize.
Goddammit, Clay.
I dart off after the ball, shooting a glare at her before running past. What the hell is her problem? She wants to win, doesn’t she? Does she think this makes me look bad? No. It’s on her.
The attacker passes the ball, but I race up, scoop it up, and whip around, shooting it over to Amy. She runs, everyone changes directions, and I barrel after her, digging in my heels and on guard as I watch the ball go to Krisjen, who hesitates too long.
“Krisjen!” I bark. Her nervous eyes jerk to me and she flips her stick, only too happy to be rid of the damn thing. I catch it, run and swerve, and shoot. The ball hits the net, the goalie unable to react fast enough.
“Yeahhhhhhhh!” I hear my brothers roar from the stands in between whistles.
But I’m not happy. I walk up to Clay, slamming my shoulder into hers as others run around us. “Stop fucking up,” I growl as I pass.
“What?” she taunts. “I just love watching you haul ass, is all.”
Yeah, right. Her ponytail bounces as she runs ahead, and I almost wish Coomer would bench me. It’s amazing how fast Clay can deplete my motivation.
Krisjen passes the ball to her, and she catches it, running toward me. I back up, holding my stick, ready to catch, but she shoots it over my head. Mercedes Peron goes for it, but an Eagle player knocks her into the ground. The ball rolls away.
I shoot daggers at Clay. I’m going to kill her. She’s sabotaging this on purpose. Trying to prove no one needs me.
But just then, Clay pulls off her eyewear, wipes the sweat off her forehead, and looks anything but pleased with herself.
“Collins!” Coach shouts, but Clay refuses to make eye contact.
Mercedes holds out her hands, questioning Clay. “I thought you were passing it to Jaeger.”
“Just shut up,” Clay bites out.
The midfielders engage and Amy takes the ball, looking for Clay, but I rush over just as she shoots it, grabbing it with my stick and knocking Clay to the ground. I don’t even look down to see her reaction, and I don’t care if I get in trouble. I’m not letting her screw this up.
Racing down the field, I pass it to Amy who passes it to