I had to hand it to her, since Alex had spent so much time caring for me and my injuries last weekend, she’s seriously mellowed on the whole Alex-is-a-murderer thing. No one else had, but fuck it. Mattie’s opinion was the only one I really cared about.
Lies.
I sighed, squashing that flicker of unease in my gut as I tracked Rafe across the field. The way he handled the ball, fucking dancing with it, was totally magnetic. I shouldn’t have been watching him. I shouldn’t even acknowledge his existence, seeing how he’d treated me all week, but… I was helpless to resist.
“He doesn’t actually mean it, you know?” Mattie’s tone was serious, and I shot her a look. “Rafe.” She nodded to the Swiss prince, who’d just scored a goal and was basking under his team’s cheers.
I scoffed, forcing my attention to the other team. The shirts team. The one my caring boyfriend was captaining, and the one that was currently seething at the loss of a goal to skins.
“If you’re trying to defend Rafe damn near bullying me this week, you can save it. There is no acceptable excuse for his behavior, short of a brain aneurysm. Even then I probably wouldn’t buy it.” I tried to keep my tone flat and emotionless, but just discussing it made my stomach churn.
All. Fucking. Week. Rafe had taken every opportunity to cut me down with verbal barbs and casually cruel comments. What the fuck I’d done to turn him so severely against me when I’d thought we were making such progress, I had no idea.
“It’s complicated,” Mattie murmured, her lips tight. She had that frustrated, angry expression that told me all I needed to know. There was more going on, and only royals were permitted insight. I, as Rafe had pointed out numerous times over the week, was quite assuredly not a royal.
Prick.
“Okay, well, whenever he wants to uncomplicate it, I’ll be sure to forgive and forget.” I muttered this, totally expressionless, and flipped open my economics workbook again.
“Really?” Mattie asked, completely misreading me.
I leveled her with a flat stare. “Fuck no. The next time he slings one of his pointed insults at me, I’m probably going to punch him in the throat.”
“Oh.” Her face fell, and neither of us spoke for some time. Me, I focused on getting my assignment done. As much as I loved watching hot, sweaty, muscle-bound guys kicking around a soccer ball, I really needed to get my work done. That way I could just hang out with Alex for the rest of the evening and let him clear my brain of infuriating, mean-spirited, brunet princes.
And Alex was very, very good at clearing my head of everyone but him.
I groaned silently and glanced up in time to catch my golden-haired boyfriend scoring a goal for his team. The way his strong legs worked, the way his chest heaved with exertion, or the way he lifted his shirt to mop at his face, revealing some tanned abs I was already intimately acquainted with… ugh. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.
“You sure you’re up for a whole day of debauchery?” Mattie asked as the guys finished their practice game and shook hands with each other. Rafe’s team—skins—had won but only by one point. They’d all taken the “friendly” match pretty seriously too, if the sheen of sweat coating them all was any indication.
I eyeballed my friend as I stuffed my workbook back into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “I’m fine,” I told her. “Just a few bruises left but otherwise, totally fit. Besides, I’ve been through worse.” It was a thoughtless slip, an insight into how familiar I was with violence, and Mattie’s frown told me she hadn’t missed it. “Besides,” I added, trying to cover my blunder and lighten the mood as we stood from our seats, “if I don’t get laid soon, my hymen might actually grow back.”
Mattie spluttered a laugh, but her eyes bugged out as she looked over my shoulder.
“Nice to know you really are the trashy slut everyone thinks you are,” a deep voice commented, and I shuddered. God. Fucking. Damn it.
“Eavesdropping is beneath you, Prince Dickhead,” I snarked back, whirling around to face Rafe and not even the slightest bit prepared for the sight of him up close. He had a soccer ball tucked casually against his side, and droplets of sweat beaded and trickled across his inked-up chest. Dear sweet baby kittens.
Rafe seemed not to notice my brain short circuiting as he just gave me a small smirk and leaned in close. Close enough to smell… close enough to touch…
“There’s an event tomorrow; Nolan said you wanted in.” Close enough to whisper in my ear so that Mattie wouldn’t hear him. Fuck me. Seriously. The warmth of his breath on my ear sent a shudder rolling right through me until it detonated in my pussy like fireworks.
Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I do.”
Rafe leaned back just far enough to meet my eyes, studying me like he was testing my worth, or my mettle. “Whatever, Cinders. It’s your funeral. I’ll put you on the cards.”
He’d turned and walked a few steps away before I found my tongue again.
“Wait,” I called out, frowning. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?” Because I seriously doubted the notorious Fallen Angel would skip their first big match.
Rafe just looked at me with those sapphire blue eyes like I was an idiot. “After the game. I’ll text you details.” After… Crap. I was supposed to leave after the game to meet Alex for our stay at the hotel. “That’s not a problem, is it, Cinderella? You don’t actually turn into a pumpkin at midnight.”
I seethed at his sneering tone. “That was her carriage not her, dipshit. If you’re using classic fairy tales to insult me, at least get the story right.”
Rafe’s lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile, then he shook his head in judging disapproval before walking back to grab his bag from the grass and head to the locker rooms.
I flipped him off. He didn’t see me, but it made me feel better.
“Uh, what was that about?”
Shit. I’d forgotten Mattie was standing right there. How much had she just heard?
“What was what?” I played dumb. “Rafe just decided he hadn’t given me enough grief at lunchtime.” I shrugged, feeling the uncomfortable weight of my lie sit on my shoulders.
“Uh-huh.” Mattie narrowed her eyes at me, but didn’t push the issue. “Well, think of this week as a warm-up. I just got a message informing me that Claudette will be back in classes as of Monday. Brandon is still MIA, but I expect he’ll be back soon as well. The dean told Jordan that his son was with his grandparents but would be back in class mid–next week.”
Brandon had taken a few days off after beating me silly, and I’d been waiting for his return to plan my perfect revenge. So this news was both frustrating and welcome. I needed to cleanse that fuck from my life by permanently erasing him.
“I think he ran to make sure that no one got to him when the video came out,” I bit out. “Alex wants his blood.” Everyone knew how pissed off Alex was about it; he’d been smashing phones ever since the video emerged.
Mattie nodded. “Yep. It wasn’t just Alex, though. Nolan and Jordan have been gunning for him, too. They might actually kill him.”
Only Rafe truly understood why I had to do this on my own, but I loved that the other guys cared so much. It meant everything to me.