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There he was standing, just as I finished sending Marc a text letting him know I’d be late. Standing at the curb where I’d picked him up time and time again. He wasn’t expecting me to come up behind him. Or maybe he was, except possibly with a knife in one hand.
“I can’t do this with you anymore,” I warned him. I wasn’t having any of this being-discreet crap. I stood there and I faced him. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that my face was flushed, I was sweaty everywhere. There was a slight chance that I might smell too, but I had to get this out. Now. I pointed at the field behind us. “Come on.”
Kulti reared back, his face scrunching up. “What are you talking about?”
I waved him onward more insistently. “Come on. I’m not going to be your punching bag the rest of the season. You and me, whoever makes it to seven first, wins.”
His bottom lip dropped and he blinked. Then he blinked again, confused.
“Come on.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” I repeated.
“Twenty-three, no.”
“Kulti.” I waved him forward, giving him one more chance to do this the easy way.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
All right. I sniffled and took a deep breath. “And you’re being a coward.”
That might have not been the smartest thing to say because the next thing I knew his shoulders stiffened, and his mouth had slammed closed. Well I couldn’t say I hadn’t gotten the job done. “What did you say?”
“I said you’re being a chicken.” I did it. Holy shit, I called Reiner Kulti a chicken and a coward, and there was no coming back from it. In for a penny, in for a pound, I told myself. “Come on. What are you scared of? You know you’re better than me. I know you’re better than me, so let’s get this over with. Play me so you can get over this crap.”
“I’m not doing this with you, little girl,” he stated evenly, his jaw gritting.
Little girl.
Could I have let it go? Sure. Of course I could. But I hadn’t been lying when I said I couldn’t do this with him any longer. All that repressed anger he had, and the frustrations he took out on me because I unfortunately had so much knowledge of him, the tension was out of this world. It wasn’t like I’d forced him to tell me the truth, but regardless we couldn’t keep this hateful dance up.
“Yeah, we are.”
“No, we are not.”
Clenching my hands together, I was about two seconds away from going Super Saiyan on his ass. “I know I’m going to lose, Kulti. I fucking hate losing, but we’re doing this anyway, so let’s get it over with.”
He raised both hands into the air and scrubbed his palms over the back of his head. Jesus Christ, he was tall. “No.”
“Why?”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he snapped.
It was my turn to blink at him. “You think I’m going to beat you, don’t you?”
He rolled his eyes upward as he huffed. “Hell hasn’t frozen over.”
Based on his tone, I wasn’t sure if he really thought so or not. Or maybe I was just being egotistical. Maybe. But I knew that I needed to set my ego aside and make him do this. Some part of my gut recognized that it was necessary, so I needed to do everything possible to make this happen.
Even if it meant pissing him off.
I tipped my chin up at him and looked right into those light-colored eyes. “Then quit being a pussy and play me.”
Yeah, that did it.
“I am not a pussy.” He took a step forward. “I can and will kick your ass.”
