I see her.
The way she hides behind her sexuality. Her eyes always searching and finding habits and tics that no doubt serve her well in her psychology major. Does she want to be a therapist? She’s always forcing revelations from the people around her without divulging her own; she’d be excellent.
And my mom would love her. The attitude she has, the way she never fails to humble me.
Fuck.
Sylvan rises, then slowly turns to face me, and I note his eyes are bleary, shadows under those icy irises. And yep, there it is, that cocky smirk on his face that pops his dimples.
He runs a hand through his blond hair, and I clench my own into fists to stop from breaking his fucking jaw.
My pulse pounds in my head and all I can think about is Neve’s text to me earlier.
North
Have you talked to Sylvan today?
I told her I hadn’t, that I’d see him at practice, then for the game. She didn’t reply. I asked her why she wanted to know, why she snuck out of my fucking house when it was still dark outside—I woke up at sunrise, my heart sinking when I realized she wasn’t in my bed—and she didn’t answer.
So I called her.
She only answered on the sixth fucking call, and I had to drag out of her the reason she asked about this little shit in front of me.
He ambushed her in an alley.
I take a step toward him, til we’re nearly nose-to-nose. I know how he fights, and I know I can absolutely wreck him.
I don’t care if it takes him out of the game. I wouldn’t mind if we never played together again; I don’t give a fuck if people think we’re a dream team.
“What did she say?” he asks quietly, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
I clench my teeth. It takes everything in me not to fucking deck him. “Do not play with me.”
He arches a brow, trying to be innocent. “Are you mad I told her not to fuck you?” he whispers, his breath ghosting along my lips.
What?She conveniently left that part out.
I don’t think.
I just grab his throat, my fingers digging into his skin, his mouth parting, grazing my own. From this angle, no one will be able to tell exactly what I’m doing to him, although I suppose if his corpse slumps along the locker room floor, they might figure it out.
“Stay away from her.”
“I will if you will.” His voice is hoarse, the way I’m touching him, but he doesn’t dare lay a hand against me or even try to defend himself.
“She’s not yours.” I don’t care if she and I haven’t had this conversation; if there’s a chance Sylvan could be the little psychopath murdering people on campus, he doesn’t need to be within a hundred kilometers of her. The fact he’s this close already bothers me, particularly since he seems to be fucking stalking her.
Us.
“Yeah,” he whispers as if he can read my mind, “it looked like she wasyourslast night, didn’t it?”
I squeeze his neck so hard his eyes widen.
He can’t breathe.
Yeah. Not so fucking cocky now, huh?
I tilt my head, my mouth on his. “If I catch you anywhere near her again, you’re the next body they’ll find at Drayton.”
