Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
But every love story has a villain, doesn’t it?
Mine has one too.
It’s his twin brother and with a deep breath, I dial his number.
Chapter 10
“Put him back on the team,” I say as soon he picks up.
For a few seconds, all I can hear is silence.
Actually, no.
There’s silence, but there’s also something else. Something thick and heavy, panting. Something that matches my breaths. Only his are punctuated with low growls.
Confused and concerned, I go, “Stellan?”
I swear his growls become louder then.
And somehow, I feel them in my own chest, further messing with my breaths.
“Are you okay?” I go on. “What… What’s wrong?”
Finally, he breaks his silence and in a voice that sounds even rougher and more gravelly than usual, he replies, “This feels like déjà vu.”
“What—”
“And since I don’t like repeating myself, all I’ll say to end this matter is you know what to do if you want me to put him back on the team.”
Now it’s my turn to remain silent and growling.
God.
I’m an idiot for being concerned for him.
Even for a second.
Breathing deep, I declare in a firm voice, “I’m not going to do that.”
“Then I’m afraid we’re at an impasse.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it,” I begin, still sitting on the cold floor, propped up against the foot of the bed. “And I think you’re bluffing.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” I nod. “You’re trying to scare me because you’re angry.”
“I am angry,” he agrees. “And as I’m coming to find out, I do like you scared of me. So yeah.”
“You’re doing all this to teach me a lesson,” I continue.
“Correct again.”
“Which means you’re not actually going to do anything,” I finish.
“Why don’t you wait and find out?”
With my heart pounding in my chest, I seethe. “Are you seriously saying that you’ll keep him benched for this?”
“Yes.”
“Your brother, the captain of your team,” I keep insisting, “one of your best players. A player you need to be able to bring the trophy home. You need him to win. You’ll keep him benched just because you…”
I can’t say it.
I absolutely cannot say it because it isn’t true.
It can’t be, right?
I mean, he doesn’t actually want me.
Not really.
He had an entire year to do that. An entire fucking year where he hardly looked at me. Where he hardly was aware that I existed. That I was in the same room as him. Where all my efforts—and there have been many as evidenced by the conversation I just had with his twin brother—to get him to notice me have failed.
So no, I refuse to believe it.
“I know it may be surprising to hear,” he says, his voice rough, “but I don’t care about a trophy or a win. I never did. At least not as much as it matters to him, your boyfriend. So yeah, I will keep him benched for this.” Then, after a pause as if he knows the effect it’ll have on me, “For you.”
I clench my eyes shut at the jolt I feel.
It goes through my entire body, stopping and jumpstarting things, making me dizzy.
I want to scream that he should stop this.
He should stop saying it, stop lying.
Stop making me go crazy with want and desperation when I’m finally doing the right thing.
But I gather my control and my dignity and open my eyes. “Fine. So how about this? You can’t possibly keep him benched for the rest of the season, just because you have this insane urge to mess with me. It’s impossible. Coach Thorne won’t let you. And if somehow you dodge him, which I don’t think is ever going to happen, you have my dad to contend with. He will lose his shit, okay? He probably is already losing his shit right now. And in case you don’t remember, he’s your boss.”
As soon as I finish, I want to take it back.
At least that comment about my dad.
I don’t like using my father in arguments or as an excuse. It makes me feel exactly what he’d called me back then, a spoiled little rich girl. Not to mention to be a spoiled little rich girl, my father actually has to spoil me and since he prefers to keep his distance from me, it makes me nothing but sad to drop him into conversations like this.
But in this context, it’s the truth.
My father will lose his shit and he is the boss.
Which means Stellan can’t possibly keep this up for long.
“Yeah, that’s a valid argument,” he agrees, and I finally breathe out in relief.
“So then I just have to wait for either Coach Thorne or my dad to—”
“Except Coach Thorne has a habit of placing his absolute trust in me. Something about me being his responsible younger brother. And your father”—a puff of air escapes him as if he’s both scoffing and chuckling at the same time and doing it with arrogance—“he doesn’t know the first thing about soccer. If I tell him that we don’t need your boyfriend to win, and we don’t, trust me, he’ll get with the program. So again, I can and I will do this. And no one can stop me. Least of all my big brother or your daddy.”