Page 1 of Court Rivals

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Chapter 1

Finch

This was by far the hardest game my team and I had played all season. Even our first game earlier in the season against Warner University hadn’t been this difficult, though it’d definitely been a tough game. For decades now, Warner and Rustin Universities had been rivals. Whether it was academics or sports, our schools competed hard. And because our schools were only two hours apart, the schools often hosted what they considered “healthy” competitions between our schools for charity fundraising.

With Warner and Rustin being in the Final Four, we were both giving it our best, both of our teams aiming for that championship game and that title. Tensions were high on the court, and more flags had been dropped in this game than any other game in the history of our schools playing against each other. Even our team captain, Damien, had two flags against him.

I mostly stuck to myself, even on the team and in school. I’d always been the kind of guy to bury my nose in a book, focus on my schoolwork, and always aim to play damn good basketball. I didn’t date, and I didn’t fuck around… often. I could count on one hand the number of sexual partners I’d had. And on the court, I focused on playing the game, getting the ball in the net, and scoring points.

I also wasn’t the kind of guy to get in altercations. I was more of a mediator than a fighter. I hardly ever argued either. I liked to protect my peace.

But there was one person who got under my skin like no one else’s. And despite him being a rival, I’d crushed on him hard for years.

That was until this game when he opened his fucking mouth and revealed how much of a cocky, self-centered asshole he was.

Rafe Botello was easily the hottest man I’d ever laid my eyes on… and also the biggest jerk in existence, apparently.

I quickly dribbled the ball across the court, looking for an opening to pass it off to one of my teammates. If one of us could get it to Damien, our star player and captain who was already set to go pro, we could score the points needed to officially win this game. If we didn’t score, we’d go into overtime, and I wasn’t keen on overtime. Not when Rafe was on the court, shooting me taunting looks and constantly mocking me.

It was like he knew how easy it was for him to get under my skin, and I fucking hated him for it.

“You’re holding on to that ball like you’re afraid we’ll take it from you,” Rafe taunted, appearing in front of me like smoke. “Scared we’re going to the championship game, Ackley?”

Cursing, I spun away from him, quickly passing the ball off to another teammate that was a little closer to Damien. “Awe, were you afraid I’d take the ball and win the game?” Rafe jabbed, still too damn close to me.

Having enough because he’d been like this the entire fucking game, I spun around to face him just as Damien dunked the ball into the net and the buzzer sounded, winning us the game. Rafe’s eyes lit up at my anger and the attention I was giving him. He was shorter than me by about three inches, though that didn’t mean much considering I was taller than most people at six foot five. But that didn’t stop him from tilting his head back and smirking up at me like the cat that got the canary.

“I wish you’d fuck off, Botello,” I snarled at him. “You’ve been up my ass the entire goddamn game. I’ve had enough of it.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked, stepping so close to me, our chests brushed and the intoxicating scent of his sweat and cologne infiltrated my nostrils. “Do I get under your skin, Ackley? Is Mr. Perfect finally losing that goddamn cool as fuck composure?”

My fists clenched at my sides, and for a split second, I had half a mind to punch him in his perfect, smug face. “Fuck you, Botello,” I snarled.

Grinning, he licked his top row of teeth, his gaze turning dark. Fire burned in his green eyes as he eyed me like I was the juiciest filet mignon he’d ever seen in his life. My heart flipped and began racing double-time. Rafe was looking at me like he wanted to fucking eat me, and I was thinking I might let him if he just kept his cocky mouth shut.

“You going to get me all nice and wet first, baby?” he taunted, his voice low and raspy. My cock thickened so fast at the pure sex in his voice that for a moment, I went dizzy.

“Hey, break it up,” Coach Hayes snapped, stepping between us. I blinked and slowly took a step back from Rafe, feeling like I was coming out of a trance. Coach Hayes pushed me toward Damien, who was lingering off just to the side. “Damien, get him in the locker room.” Coach Hayes looked at Rafe just as Rafe’s head coach was jogging up. “You get on your side of the court, you hear me? Leave my players alone. Game’s fucking over, kid.”

Damien gripped my sweaty bicep and led me away. “The fuck was that?” he asked me, his brows furrowing in concern. “That’s not like you, Finch.”

I grunted. “Rafe’s a fucking dick.”

Damien snorted. “I believe the whole country knows that by now. You been under a rock, Ackley?” he teased. “Come on. Let’s shower so we can do these interviews. Reporters are going to have questions about that shit out there.”

I groaned long and loud, making him and several of the other guys laugh at my expense.

Chapter 2

Finch

While most of my teammates were chilling in the lounge area of the hotel, I’d opted out. I was tired, hungry, and really just needed some time by myself to decompress. After being on the team for the past four years, my teammates were understanding and knew I wasn’t being standoffish or a rude dick. They’d simply patted me on the back, told me they’d see me on the bus in the morning, and had gone on without me. Which left me in peace to come to this quiet restaurant inside the hotel.

The steak and baked potato the waitress just set in front of me was sizzling, smelled so damn good my stomach rumbled, and just about made me drool. I was starving. I knew the guys had ordered tacos and were vegging out, but I needed something more sustaining than tacos. This steak was going to hit the spot.

Lightning flashed outside the window I was sitting next to, lighting up the pouring rain beating against the glass. Thunder rumbled right after, a sure sign the storm that’d been hovering in the area all day was now on top of us. Looking away from the window, I focused back on my steak, reaching for the steak knife the waitress had left with me.

And just about jumped out of my fucking skin when someone slid the chair out across from me.