Page 14 of Hating On Riot

“You did not cereally say that creepy word.”

“Heebie-jeebies?”

I cover my ears.

He laughs.

Smiling, I uncover them. “Thank you for teaching me some tricks.”

We’re at the stoop in front of the rugby house. I gesture for my blaster. He shakes his head. I reach for it. That butt sidesteps me, laughing.

I sigh in defeat. He’s the jock. I’m out of shape. He’s bigger and can easily take me down with his size and strength. Seeing my defeat, he hands me my blaster.

I bend at the waist and bow. He smirks, looking too sexy for his own good.

“Good luck at practice. I hope the reaming isn’t too intense.” Not waiting for him to respond, I hurry up the stairs and into the bedroom for my backpack. A ton of research is waiting for me at the library. Hopefully, what I find will convince my brothers to finally buy the house of my dreams and renovate it.

Instead, I find a note on top of my backpack that makes me delay my trip to the library. I slide to the floor, the heel of my palm against my eye, the note in the other hand.

I was wrong about everything. Riot isn’t my friend. And he most definitely knew I was the girl he kissed in that dark closet. I stare at the note.

Arie Kim, be my water girl, and I’ll give you another taste of my delish lips.

My mouth goes dry. My heart is beating fast. How do I face him after this?

6

Arie

After I had picked myself up off the floor and ignored the note, I headed to the library and finished jotting notes and sketching a solid plan for the house in McMillan that I love and hope to convince Cameron and Tony to flip next.

The library was nearly empty and quiet, giving me time to think about the note. I’ll accept Riot’s challenge. I’ll be the rugby team’s water girl if that’s what he wants, but I’ll be damned if I let him kiss me again.

What I did at that party was impulsive, driven by jealousy. I was so tired of the girl going on and on about how lucky she was that Riot picked her that I grew angry and let my emotions get the best of me. But never again. The last time I let my emotions override logic, my sister died.

Throwing my backpack into the passenger seat, I climb into my car and head to the store for groceries for the guys at home.

Forget labeling our food for each person. How about ‘caring is sharing’? I grab takeout too.

While putting the groceries away, my phone in my bag pings. Famished, I dig into my food and marvel at how quiet the place is. Where did everyone go?

I check the time on my phone. It’s almost eight. Crap. Cooper will be picking me up soon. I scarf down my yakisoba and read my emails. One is from Hope, with a link to the app. I download the app and sign in with the username she provided.

There’s already a DM waiting for me.

Thatrandomguy: Three reasons you’re playing this game.

Peaceoutthatrandomguy: Can I first acknowledge that our usernames suck? I thought this was a matchmaking experiment, not an experiment in throwing shade at anyone. Not that I’m throwing shade at you. IDK u.

Thatrandomguy: Agree wholeheartedly.

I think about my match’s question. Hope said the experiment is about finding a connection, not finding love. I’m not looking for love, and I have more than enough connections among my five besties. However, I can help someone else feel more connected.

Me: My three reasons are to help a friend, to widen my social circle, and to open up more. You?

Thatrandomguy: To hear a different voice in the crowd, to have someone know me for me, and to help a friend.

Me: How do you ‘hear’ through DM?