“You trashed my house,” I say as everyone moves into position around us. “You desecrated our flag.”
She doesn’t try to defend herself, and I don’t want her to. I’m just reminding her that we’re not a team.
“Liv!” someone yells.
Clay and I turn our heads, seeing Megan next to the coach, her blonde hair spilling out of her baseball cap and a look in her eyes that warns me not to get myself in trouble.
Clay waves at someone, and I follow her gaze, seeing Callum and his friends sitting on the hood of his car on the other side of the chain-link fence in the parking lot. He watches us with that look in his eyes that reminds me of what my lactose intolerance feels like when it kicks in.
“You didn’t feel like he does,” Clay whispers, moving in close as play starts around us. “You didn’t feel powerful.”
He felt powerful? He’s had her? I pause, staring at her. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s fucked him already. I don’t why I thought she hadn’t gone that far. Maybe because Clay Collins is such a priss, she wouldn’t want to get dirty.
She looks at me. “You can’t do to me what he can do.”
“I can do anything he can do,” I grit out. “You want me inside of you?”
I watch her eyes fall to my mouth, a hint of my tongue showing itself.
“You want to ride me?” I offer. “I can do anything you want.”
I can do anything to her a man can do.
“But I will never touch you,” I tell her, casting a glance to the sidelines and Megan. “I like her. She’s so ready.”
Clay’s eyes narrow, a fire lighting inside.
“You’re bland and repressed, boring and bitchy.” I grin. “Good thing is, rich or not, those things can be fixed.”
Her own words thrown back at her from when she wrote on me in Sharpie and the knowledge that I’ll have a good-fucking-time with anyone but her makes her eyes turn red. She growls, shoving me in the chest, and I laugh, fisting her shirt and dragging her down to the grass with me.
We roll, whistles sound, and the crowd goes wild, the showdown they expected by two rival teams taking a twist they didn’t expect.
“Oh, you wanna be on top, huh?” I tease, Clay straddling me.
She screams, more pissed off, and I just laugh, barely noticing all the arms trying to pull us apart.
I YANK MY rubber band out, letting my hair loose as I rub my scalp where she tried to pull my hair.
“Krisjen?” Coach yells. “Amy?”
Both of my friends stand in the hotel room, muddy cleats in hand and their ponytails hanging by a prayer.
I glare at Liv, watching her stand there all calm, relaxed, and bored across the room, like this is all just a waste of her time. Like she barely knows I exist. Bitch.
I fold my arms over my chest, the tension like an electrical current. I’m going to kill her. Thank God my parents decided to not come tonight.
Coomer’s eyes dart between Liv and me as she speaks to Amy and Krisjen. “Shower in Audrey’s room and take everything you need,” she orders them. “You won’t be back for a while.”
Amy hesitates for a moment, pressed into a quick decision at a moment’s notice about what outfit to grab, or all the makeup she’ll need tonight, but then she sees Krisjen just grab her whole overnight bag and backpack, and she does the same. Taking all their gear, hands full, they leave the room, their shit banging against the door as they go.
This is bullshit. I glare at Jaeger. She did this on purpose. Must’ve been a hoot when she’d found out the coach benched me. She just had to come back to see that, didn’t she? And what did it get us? A forfeited game for unsportsmanlike conduct. She fucked us and got the last laugh.
But just as the door closes behind Krisjen and Amy, and I brace myself for some useless lecture, Coach turns and immediately follows the girls, leaving Liv and me.
“Wait!” I step toward her. “What are you doing?”
Liv stays rooted by the window.
Coomer turns her head over her shoulder, pulling open the door. “Sort it out,” she tells us. “I don’t care how you do it or if it takes all night, but you’re roomies now, so take all the time you