“So being an asshole does run in the family,” she bites back.
“You bit—”
“All right, that’s enough,” I interject, stopping things from going too far. I refuse to look at her to give her any ideas that I stepped in for her.
I didn’t.Did I?
They stay like that for a moment, both refusing to back away. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be here any more than we want her to be, but it’s also clear that she isn’t about to take the disrespect without a fight. And as much as I hate to admit it, her resolve is as admirable as it is infuriating.
I want her to break, but only for me, and that realization pisses me off even more. What do I even care? I shouldn’t.I don’t.
“What’s your angle, huh? Where the hell did you come from?”
At Ryker’s question, Sam pauses for a second. It’s not long, but enough for me to catch it. Then she stands, eyes landing on me, full of disdain. I see the moment she decides not to be quiet any longer.
With a blink, she faces them, sets the skates down, and says, “Ask Kane.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and my fists curl instantly. Ryker and his friend look at me, but all I’m focused on is Sam. So this is how she wants to play it? Turning the attention from her to me, potentially stirring up things I’ve worked hard at keeping to myself.
She’s going to pay for that. If she thought being in that bathroom with me was bad, she doesn’t even know the half of it.
Sam walks away, throwing an evil glance over her shoulder at me before disappearing around the lockers. Ryker and Issac stare at me for a moment before finally waving me off, cursing under their breaths as they walk away. The moment they’re out of sight, I stalk in the direction Sam was heading, finding her sorting through the uniforms.
Her actually being good at this fucking job wasn’t on my bingo card. In fact, I was banking on her royally screwing up so that I wouldn’t have to look at her. This might be a punishmentfor her, but finding a good equipment manager who knows our needs isn’t as easy to come by as one might think. Being good means Coach might actually start to favor her, and then I’ll never be rid of her.
Sam is lost in her task, her body jerking and swaying with each aggressive shake of a garment or every toss into the respective bins.
My eyes go to her ass in those leggings before I can stop them.
Damn.
That thin, stretchy material clings to her like a second skin, molding around every curve with zero shame. Each movement she makes sends a subtle ripple through her thighs, the muscles flexing beneath skin I suspect is smooth.
She’s a nuisance. A fucking distraction. And I hate that I even look at her like that, hate myself for noticing anything other than that.
I storm forward, wrap my fingers around her arm and force her to face me. I bring my face so close to hers I can smell the Skittles she had at lunch.
“You think that was cute? I told you, Sam. Don’t fucking test me.”
“What’s the problem? Don’t want your little teammates to know you used to be friends with the girl that ruined your chances?” Sam yanks away defiantly.
“You were never my friend. Just some pathetic little girl that followed me around.”
“Then why do I bother you so much?”
“You don’t. I just don’t want to see your face.”
“Could have fooled me. You’ve gone out of your way tonotbe bothered.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.Everyonehates you.” I snatch a jersey from her hand.
That rattles her. Sam stumbles slightly at my words but manages to pull herself together in a mere second.
“Yeah, well, I’d rather be hated than to hate myself.” Sam yanks the sweater from my grip, throws it into the bin, and leaves me to sit in her resentment.
And in this moment, I realize why I hate her so much… She sees right through me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
