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That’s the effect Aiden has on people. Even though RES’s known for academics, they’ve been obsessed with football these past few years. They’re dreaming about another championship after the one last year.
Xander doesn’t even reach down to help Aiden. Cole and Ronan do. Coach Larson, a middle-aged man with a bald head and bushy brows, hits Xander with a paper bat on his shoulder.
If he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. All he does is cut a poker-faced Aiden a deadly glare.
“Wow. Knight is tense,” one of the girls whispers from behind me.
“I know, right?” Another replies. “He’s like out for blood.”
So I’m not the only one who noticed that.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Aiden and Xand
er at each other’s throat.
The captain, Cole, and the coach speak to Xander on the sidelines.
Judging from Coach Larson’s reddening cheeks, he doesn’t look so happy.
I snort. Of course, he wouldn’t be. I’m sure he’s barely stopping himself from murdering Xander for touching his star. Aiden is the ace striker, and strikers always get full credit, no matter how many good assists they get.
Still warming up, I search for Aiden. He stands near the bench, gripping a bottle of sports drink, but his attention isn’t on the drink or on Xander or on Ronan who’s talking to him.
It’s on me.
I freeze in the middle of stretching my hand behind my back. The position thrusts my breasts against my tracksuit. Aiden’s gaze trails down to the curve of my breasts slowly. Too slowly. It’s painful.
My throat closes. I feel like pumping air out of my lungs, gasping, and begging for breath.
When his metallic eyes slide back to mine, they’re full of undisclosed hunger.
Raw.
Furious.
I can’t breathe even if I want to. I feel like if I take one breath, he’ll jump me.
For two years, I got used to murderous glares from him. What’s up with this one?
I can take his hateful looks. Hell, I want us to go back to the hateful looks’ stage. At least back then, I wasn’t rattled out of my mind.
But this look? This hunger? This one I can’t take.
I break eye contact first. He can play whatever game he wants on his own.
The practice goes well for the most part. It’s after the fourth loop that exhaustion starts to settle in.
I take more pauses for water than necessary. My record keeps slowing down.
Now and then, when I look into the football pitch, I find Aiden’s destabilising eyes on me.
God damn him.
After practice, Coach calls me into her office as the other girls head into the shower.
Coach Nessrine has olive skin and dark blue eyes that give her an exotic look.
“Everything okay, Quinn?” Her brows furrow. “Your numbers weren’t optimal by the end. Have you been practising during the summer?”
