Page 25

Weird.

Just silence, the thud of her receding footsteps, and the crowd buzzing around us. She’d won, so why was she nearly running?

My head cocked to the side, brows furrowing as my gaze followed her out. Feet rooted to the spot, I wiped the sweat off my forehead, but my thighs burned, flexing with an unexplainable urge to follow after her.

Irritation at myself flared up, like an itch under my skin.

Why did it bother me so much?

Was I counting on a reaction that badly?

The people gathered around lingered, a dozen pairs of eyes flitting to me, as always. But the crowd sounded strange—an off-kilter buzz I couldn’t switch off. Pitying comments from onlookers and reassuring pats on my shoulder rolled off me without sticking—I’d had too much fun facing her to be a sore loser.

Besides, my mind was uncharacteristically fuzzy, snagging on her puzzling expression before she’d walked away. Every time I tried to figure it out, it was like trying to catch smoke.

Was something going on with her?

And why did I even care?

I turned to Liam, determined to shut her out of my thoughts, and listened to his analysis on why I’d lost, towel mercifully cool against the heated skin on the back of my neck.

Cold water settled the fire in my gut, spilling down the corners of my mouth as I downed an entire bottle, then wiped it off with the back of my hand.

I felt her before I saw her. Pri, rounding the corner, like a storm itching to break. She cut through the dispersing crowd, making a beeline straight towards me, expression beyond murderous.

Uh-huh.

Time slowed and warped. Instinct told me this was about Mia, even though I couldn’t pinpoint why. Jaw shifting, hands balled into fists, she stopped right in front of me, glowering as if she might kill me.

My brows drew together.

“What the fuck did you say to her?”

Pri almost never cursed—you knew it was bad when she did.

My pulse kicked up like a spooked horse.

I wracked my uncooperative brain, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I’d done.

“Nothing,” I muttered, keeping my tone even, a stark contrast to her trembling near-shout.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and fought to remember. I’d teased her, sure. Volleyed a few taunts her way, but nothing particularly horrible. Nothing to warrant this. Something tugged at my attention in the corner of my mind, but the heat flaring in my veins was louder.

She stepped forward, getting up close and personal. Her face blotched angry red—no hint of the pleasant, kind features I knew so well.

I crossed my arms over my chest, dragged in a slow breath that only managed to scorch the inside of my lungs, and resisted biting her head off.

“I didn’t do shit,” I grunted.

White-hot anger coursed through me, making it harder to keep my voice even, but thankfully, the crowd had wisely vanished, Liam with them. The clock must have chimed, but I hadn’t heard it over the sound of my own blood roaring in my ears.

“You fuckin’ did. She was crying, you piece of shit!”

I recoiled like she’d hit me.

It was the insult, more than anything, that yanked me out of it.

What the fuck did I do?