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Gemma doesn’t answer. I reach out and tickle her side, getting her to squeak and scoot out of range. She gives up trying to ignore me and flashes me a glare that’s all bark and no bite.
“No.”
She still won’t surrender to my control. I can’t say I’m mad at it. It’s thrilling when she challenges me.
“No? That won’t do. I think you mean yes.”
“I’m serious.”
“Nah, you’re not.”
“I am!”
Gemma huffs and returns her attention to the computer, clicking through her photos. There’s a black and white of a building downtown. It’s a favorite of mine. I’ve sketched it a few times. The high contrast in the photo highlights the sharp lines of the building.
“What will I do without my girl at my party?”
I thread my hands in her hair. It’s not in a braid today, so I take advantage. She hums and tips her head into my hand for a second, enjoying the touch.
“I’ll file it away that you like your hair played with. It’ll make things fun later. What about hair pulling? That really gets me hard.”
“Ugh.” Gemma swats my hand away. “I’m not your girl.”
I drop the playful act and sit up.
“You are.”
When Gemma scoffs, I grab her chin and yank her face to meet mine. I look at her fiercely, grinding my jaw.
“I want you there. If you don’t show up, I’m gonna be pissed.”
There’s nothing I can do to hold back the possessive growl in my tone. I wouldn’t bother, anyway. Gemma is mine. It’s about damn time she stops fighting me on that fact.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Gemma jerks out of my hold and taps a few keys on the keyboard. “You’ll have to get over it.”
With that, she grabs her stuff and leaves in a rush before I can untangle myself from the rolling chair. I stand there alone, breathing through the annoyance.
When the clock on the wall catches my attention, I head for practice.
She will learn she’s mine. I’ll make sure of it.
* * *
The lights on the field make my head throb. Or maybe that’s the hit I took from the other team’s massive douche on offense that plowed me over.
Carter is supposed to have my back, but he didn’t catch the guy in time.
The cheerleaders rile up the crowd in the stands, Marissa leading her pack. I pace the sidelines and squirt my drink into my mouth, gasping as I gulp it down.
I’m done, but there’s still two quarters to play. The marching band is winding down their performance on the field. I wish Coach would put in our reserve. Even my fingernails ache.
I’m stuck here playing the person everyone wants me to be.
Alec nods to me as he passes to sit on the bench.
I peer up at the stands and scan for Gemma. Coyote Girls hang as far as they can over the rails to shout to the Silver Lake High players. Proud parents, students, and local fans cheer us to victory. The one person I want to see is missing.
She never comes to the games. I don’t expect to find her, but something in my body is calling out for her right now.
