Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register that it’s gone quiet. At the edge of the field, laps slow, and then stop entirely. The team’s attention shifts towards us, eyes settling with a subtle shift in energy. Unlike last time I went toe to toe with Everest, there’s no chanting or obvious hatred against me. They simply watch, waiting to see who will come out on top. I don’t back down, and nor does Everest. If anything, it fuels the fire, pushing us harder, faster, neither willing to be the one who backs down first.
Everest feints left, then cuts right, trying to slip past me, but I manage to predict him this time. Afterall, he was taughtby Bobby Mansfield, a prestigious lacrosse champion who I’ve studied intensely. He taught Everest everything he knows, which means all of Everest’s plays can be found in the sports section of the library.
Stepping into him and blocking his path, our bodies collide with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. For a split second, our chests are nearly brushing, breath mingling, eyes locking onto one another’s with an intensity that burns. Then he shoves off, dragging the ball back into his control. I spin with him, refusing to give him an inch. My stick snaps down, catching his just as he moves to shoot, the ball ricocheting loose between us. We both dive for it at the same time.
My knee hits the turf hard, his shoulder slams into mine. What was supposed to be a swipe becomes a heap of limbs, scrambling to regain composure first. Everest recovers faster, his footsteps pounding before I’ve managed to jump back to my feet. I curse under my breath, spinning to chase, but he’s already gone. His long strides eat up the pitch as he drives straight for the goal. The ball rockets into the back of the unmanned net with a satisfying thud. Silence follows for half a beat before a few murmurs ripple through the team.
I slow to a stop, my momentum finally giving out as my hands brace against my thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of my leggings. I drag in sharp, burning breaths, my lungs being scraped raw. Sweat clings to the back of my neck, sliding down my spine as I lift my head just enough to track Everest pacing back toward me. He drops into a crouch, invading my space with that same infuriating, knowing grin pulling at his lips like he’s just proven a point.
“See, there she is,” he drawls, his eyes raking over my face. “You can’t outrun who you are. No matter how pretty of a fantasy it is. We’re ingrained to compete, driven by the need to prove ourselves.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I heave out, straightening despite the protest in my muscles. My body screams at me to lie down and never get back up again, but I refuse to give him that. Even if it does play in to exactly what he’s saying and the way he’s looking at me knowingly. Picking up my crosse, Everest stands too, his gaze flickering over my head as he shoves the stick into my hands.
“Your little friend should have accepted my terms. I will have my way, even if I need to chain you to this field to get it.”
I freeze. Everest’s words hit me with the weight of a wrecking ball. They roll around my head, blasting through the fog with startling clarity. Slowly, I roll my shoulders back despite the ache, forcing my back to hold straight. A smile begins to pull at my lips. Small at first, then wider and wider until a quiet, breathless chuckle slips free. It builds in my chest, laughter spilling out into the open air as I throw my head back. Lifting the crosse, I drop it onto the grass as Everest’s grin falters.
“I don’t even need to be here.Youneed me to be.”
With that, I turn and stride across the pitch without giving Everest a chance to react. He can’t chain me to this pitch if I’m not here. Nor can he dangle the prospect of rebuilding my reputation over my head like a carrot on a string. He can have the team, and then Dean Colt can snatch it away and his parents can be oh, so disapproving. None of which is my problem.
Catching Thi’s gaze, I jerk my head and he shoots to my side, quietly questioning what just happened. I don’t have the words. I’m too busy smiling.
Guiding him to the locker room, energy buzzed in my veins, adrenaline carrying me through the motions of throwing open my locker. The inside is a mess of clothes from where I tossed everything inside in a hurry. I proceed to shove the items into my bag with the same level of care, crumpling my cleats on top ofmy jersey. Maybe I should have taken the hint the day I pulled it from lost property and left it there.
“I’ll shower at yours,” I tell Thiago over my shoulder, already slinging the strap across my body. He steps in to take the bag himself, a relaxed shrug and calming presence at the ready. That’s what I need. Someone who doesn’t push and challenge. Who simply accepts.
Although, as soon as the thought passes through my head, the atmosphere shifts. I don’t have to look at who it is, Everest’s aura rolls across the room in thick waves. It coils in the back of my throat, and I’ve rolled my eyes before he opens his mouth.
“You’re right,” he states coldly, his voice cutting through the space between us. I pause, tilting my head towards him. The circles around his eyes appear darker given his position amongst the shadows, the corners of his mouth seeming strained. “I need you to show up. I need you to put in the work.” There’s a beat of pause, a small shake of his head as if he’s having an argument with himself. “I need to control the narrative.”
In my peripheral vision, Thi takes a step back and lowers onto the bench, watching the exchange rather than insert himself. It’s a smart move. There’s history here, layers upon layers of misconceptions on Everest’s end. He wants the world to be black and white, and hates when he can’t control the shades of gray that force themselves in between.
“Is that so?” I ask, meeting his green gaze head-on without a trace of hesitation. The ghost of that same smile lingers at my lips, but there’s nothing light about it now. It has a mind of its own, one formed from years of humiliation at Everest’s doing. For all of the games he sabotaged, the times he crashed my sponsorship events, the way his minions tore down my posters and replaced them with his, how he slid into my absence to steal my spot and ruin the team I’d put my pride and joy into crafting. For all that and more, my smile twists into something cruel.
“Then get on your knees and grovel.”
Chapter Thirty Three
To no one’s surprise, Everest did not grovel. I left him standing there, jaw clenched and the vein in his temple swelling. My shoulder sang from how hard I shoved past him, my movements bolstered by the defiance radiating through my bones. It lasted halfway to Thiago’s place, until the momentum drained away and I realized how much energy I’d spent on being stubborn, playing directly into Everest’s assumptions. Damn him.
“Sorry for ditching you back there,” I tell Thiago again, tugging the headset more securely over my ears as I shift against my pillows. There’s a faint crackle of audio before his exhale brushes through the speakers, followed by a soft chuckle.
“I’ve told you, Amorzinha. You never have to apologize to me.” That brings a smile back to my face. Such a smooth talker for an introvert. Reaching for my covers, Thiago rushes to stall the shuffle of movement.“But if you don’t get your ass online, as promised, I’ll come throw you over my shoulder and drag you back.”
I drop back with an exaggerated whine, remaining sprawled across my bed in an oversized hoodie, my hair damp from a rushed shower I barely remember taking. The familiar glow of my computer screen is bleeding across the room, Thi’s avatar waiting not-so-patiently. It was already on and waiting by the time I stepped into my room wrapped in a towel. Perks of having a hacker at my disposal, I suppose.
“Your silence is speaking volumes, meu amor. Perhaps you are going to lie there until I follow through on that threat.”My head snaps up, looking directly at the webcam attached to the screen. Narrowing my eyes, I glare as the realization punches through me.
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Today?” Thi shoots back and I push up to my forearms. He knows full well I don’t mean just today, but he also knows I’m not as furious as I’m hoping my face portrays. I’m not even surprised.
Last year, my life was turned upside down. Everyone I thought I could rely on disappeared, everything I thought made me unique was stripped away, but from the day I woke in the hospital, Thiago was there. A man who owed me nothing, who didn’t even know me, yet he stayed. He listened. He watched, and he cared.
“Fine,” I pretend to grumble. “But I’m bringing my bed with me.” Dragging the covers and pillow beneath my arms, I create a nest in my gaming chair and settle in for the night. It’s not like Ihave classes tomorrow anyway. I suppose I should thank Everest for that one, but never to his face.
Without even touching the keyboard, my avatar flickers into life, equipped with a new outfit. She’s fierce today, total Katniss vibes in black leather with a bow and quiver. Her hair is a long, brunette braid over her shoulder, a look of determination on her face. I huff a laugh and shake my head.
