Veils of Rivalry Chapter 42

Cole's POV

Puddles scatter across the field as the rain falls. The coach has us running laps, so even though the air is bitter, and I’m soaked right through to the bone, the coldness is a treat to the heat pouring out of me.

Either that or the raging warmth twisting around my spine is from the glimpse of abs I keep seeing whenever Blaise uses his shirt to dry the rain from his face—it’s an unintentional glance in his direction that I can’t help but fall into. I’m more drawn to him than ever, and my entire body is aware of his proximity when our shoulders brush on the field.

I lost myself for a bit. Blaise stayed with me until our parents called us down to tell us they were going to go on another trip, just the two of them. They want a breather, away from us and life.

I stayed quiet and kept my eyes on the floor, while Blaise did all the talking. Asking where, when, how long, and if they think they can trust their sons not to blow the house up. He meant it in a laughing manner, but I didn’t laugh. I didn’t acknowledge a word. I dismissed myself and silently retreated back to my room and fell asleep.

I woke four times last night, and I could have sworn Blaise was there two of the times.

It’s fucking confusing. The way I feel. It’s messing with my head. I should hate him, want to smash his face in for being a pain in my ass since we met. But if I’m going to be honest with myself, in the least pitiful way, I never felt an ounce of peace under my bed until he joined me.

I didn’t pull away when our palms pressed together, and my heart slowed to a healthy pace when our fingers entwined, and just… Fuck.

“Any slower and you’ll stop, Carter.”

I pick up speed since I’m falling behind, catching up with Keith and Samson. “Fuck, man,” Samson gasps. “I feel like my lungs are dead.”

“Mine are on fire,” Keith replies.

“Pair of pussies,” I throw in as I overtake them, dodging one of them trying to kick my ankles. I run backwards while giving them the middle finger, getting back into a steady pace as I turn around.

My hair sticks to my forehead as I round the benches and ignore all the bystanders—the usual girlfriends, boyfriends, and wannabe jocks enjoying the view while we nearly die from exhaustion.

It’s been an hour, and Coach won’t let us stop. It’s punishment for the locker room getting trashed last night. It wasn’t me, and I don’t think it was any of my friends, since I would’ve heard about it on the group chat, so everyone speculates that it was Allie.

Apparently, she’s made it publicly official that we broke up with some huge social media post about betrayal and heartbreak.

I was sent a few screenshots, but I didn’t bother reading any of her bullshit. She’ll play victim, like she always does, then go spread her legs for her professor again in an attempt to make me jealous.

It explains why she’s here, watching with rage in her eyes.

Jackson sits on the bench behind her, with Samson’s big brother beside him. I know they’re going to party later. They’ll be waiting on the guys finishing up so they can head out.

I said no.

The last place I want to be is anywhere near Jackson. He made it out that something happened between him and Blaise. Blaise wouldn’t lie about it. He’s more the type to rub it in my face to get some sort of reaction from me.

I reacted. I hit my friend, ended said friendship, then let myself spiral.

I breathe heavily when we’re eventually allowed to stop. Bending forward, I keep my hands on my knees and cough up a lung. My leg aches like it always does when I exercise, but I learn to get on with life and ignore the constant reminder of my past. Sweat mixed with rain drips from my eyebrow as I glance up to see Allie smiling at me as if she hasn’t blasted me all over the internet. Jackson smirks, his head tilting to Blaise, and I follow his gaze to see Blaise talking to Mia.

Mia.

Why the fuck won’t these girls leave us alone?

And why is he talking to her?

I watch as they interact. He runs his hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling from the running, while she talks. Then she reaches for his hand, which he pulls away, making her brow furrow.

Good boy.

My nerves crash when Jackson hops down from the bench and walks straight toward Blaise, and before I can stop myself, I aim for them too.

“Practice isn’t done,” I snap at them, my eyes not daring to look at Mia or Allie. I’m glaring at Jackson. “Fuck off.”

“Hmm,” Jackson hums, before dragging his eyes to Blaise. “I’ll see you at the party tonight.”

My heart accelerates, but I don’t show it as I stare at my old friend. He backs off, lifting his hands, then swings his arm over Allie’s shoulder. “You don’t mind if I take a shot of your girl now, do you?”

“Not my girl,” I retort, grabbing Blaise by the shoulder and turning him toward the field.

“We have forty minutes left of practice,” I say without looking at him. “Then you can go to the party all you want.”

Blaise shrugs me off, grabbing his helmet from the side of the tracks just as I take mine and pull it over my head. Keith whistles to hurry us up, and Blaise stops beside me. “If you’re jealous, you know what you need to do,” he whispers. “If you don’t want me to go to the party, all you need to do is say that.”

Coach signals for us to get into position. Blaise jogs to his side, since we’re on opposite teams for practice, getting into a squat position, ready to catch the ball.

Half an hour into the match, I think I’ve tackled every single player, imagining they’re Jackson. I nearly punched Keith in the gut when he told me to calm down.

The last pass, and I aim for Blaise as soon as he catches the ball and runs up the side of the field. My feet pound the wet ground as I gain on him, throwing my body into his side before he can touchdown.

I hear the air rush from his lungs on impact, slamming him into the ground and pinning him down.

“Shit, Cole,” he groans beneath me. “That was fucking personal.”

I grab the cage of his helmet and yank him up to me, so our helmets clash. “Stay the fuck away from Jackson,” I snap. “If I see you even talking to him, I’ll beat your ass and snap your legs and watch him get his spot back on the team. If you want to take that as a threat, good, because it is. Stay. Away. From. Him.”

When I let go of him, he headbutts me, cracking our helmets together and shoving me off so I fall onto my back in the mud. He jumps to his feet, panting. “Don’t threaten me again.” Then he laughs. “Knew you were jealous.”

“Rowle,” Coach yells. “Carter. Get over here.”

Rolling my eyes, I slap Blaise’s hand away when he tries to help me to my feet. Coach shakes his head at us both as we approach.

“Your father said you’d both fight during a match, so this is your only warning. Another brawl between you both and I’m benching the pair of you for three games.”

He thinks that was us fighting? Fuck, he should see what it’s like when I’m masked and Blaise is sucking my cock. Or not – I don’t want anyone seeing that side of us.

I sigh. “Then you’d lose the games. We’re your best players.”

“Get out of my sight.”

I laugh as I walk by him. Everyone’s already inside getting showered and dressed. Blaise follows, muttering something under his breath about being an asshole.

Must be talking about himself.

The stalls in the shower room are empty when we get in, the guys pulling on their clean clothes, some cocks out. I glance at Blaise to see if he’s giving them any attention, but he’s too busy trying to unfasten the clip on his helmet. Tossing mine down, I yank off my shirt, then my guards, and hike my foot onto a bench to undo my laces.

“I’m not helping you,” I say to him when he huffs. “Learn to do it yourself.”

“I know how to fucking take off my helmet. I played in high school.”

Keith comes over, squirting water into his mouth from his sports bottle. “J will pick us up around seven,” he tells Blaise. “Be ready.”

He nods, and I feel every fucking nerve snapping as I switch shoes to undo the other lace.

“You sure you’re not coming?” he asks me, and I shake my head. “Well, suit yourself. We’re gonna play another chase.”

Great.

Fucking perfect.

Blaise isn’t going.