Chapter Eight #2
Adhira rolls her eyes at him, standing and wiping her palms off on her shorts.
Her eyes search for our roommate, landing on a very smug-looking Chelsea.
Adhira points two fingers at her own eyes and then at Chelsea as she says, “You better sleep with one eye open, bitch.” Her lips twitch, but she somehow manages to keep the serious expression on her face.
The men erupt in a round of taunting “whoops” and “oohs.”
Chelsea smiles broadly, calling over to Adhira. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, there’s so much more where that came from. I know you like it a little rough,” she says, winking. Adhira doesn’t like anything, rough or otherwise . Chelsea knows that, which makes it that much funnier.
The laughter and clapping only grow with Chelsea’s response, and I swear I see Nakoa’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.
He cups his chin, rubbing his fingers along the line of his strong jaw.
I see the pad of his thumb dig into his hollow cheek as he swallows down his laughter, not wanting to spur Chelsea further into her antics.
The next several groups continue much more smoothly than the first, and eventually, we make it to the end with Rafael and I up against Letty and Jelani.
Jelani’s a strong guy, no doubt. All rugby players have to be, but Letty’s stronger than most women I've known. She’s built like a brick shithouse and has endured a lot that's not only made her physically strong but mentally too. At least, that’s what she tries to convey to the rest of the world.
Deep down, I think she just needs someone to be soft and attentive with her.
Her needs are clearly different from my own.
“Front or back, princess?” Rafael asks me as I approach the rope, tying my hair more securely to the top of my head.
“I’ll take the back so you don’t get distracted staring at my ass,” I quip, smiling widely. If he weren’t my coach, I’d tell him he can take me from either.
He scoffs, but a grin forms on his lips.
“So, what you’re saying is you are going to get distracted by my ass.
” He nods his understanding, and I almost laugh.
“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind for future practices.
Wouldn’t want my team’s captain getting any funny ideas, so I’ll make sure to wear the baggiest shorts I’ve got,” he says, shooting me a wink as he takes his position in front of me.
I don’t even have a chance to retort before the whistle is blasting in our ears.
Good thing, too, because I’m not sure what I’d say to that other than That’s a damn shame. Somehow, this man having found a sense of humour is proving to be more of a downfall than a redeeming quality. Whose downfall I’m not sure yet.
My fingers wrap around the rope, a scowl settling across my lips as it threatens to burn through my hands. As strong as Rafael and I are, we’re no match for Letty and Jelani.
The competitive fire lit under my arse still leads me to dig my feet into the turf as they nearly drag my body across it, my fingers cramping, but at the last second, both Jelani and Letty drop the rope with wide smiles, sending Rafael and I flying to our arses.
I land with a grunt, the backs of my thighs scraping against the ground, but it’s nothing compared to the tumbles I take during our matches.
I look around us, confusion settling in as I realise we won.
I have no idea what their play is. Whether neither of them wants to win, or they figured having their team captains and coach fall to their arses would be more satisfying, I’m not sure, but they both look extremely happy as they make their way over to us.
Letty reaches down, and my hand clamps around hers, allowing her to hoist me up.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers, and as soon as I’m back on my feet, she takes off to sidle up to Jelani.
What the hell is going on with everyone today?
By the time we make it to the last station, we’re all soaked with sweat despite it being eleven degrees.
We honestly couldn’t have picked a better day for this sort of thing because, for once, the sun has miraculously remained out the entire time we’ve been out here.
That’s not usually the case this time of year in Embershire, or well, anytime .
“Last one, and then we can take a quick break before our game,” Rafael announces to the crowd of exhausted players. Spirits are high though, and as much as it pains me to admit, this was a good idea. However, I won't be telling my dad that.
Everyone's getting along well. Maybe our shot at closing out the year with a solid winning streak won’t be as impossible as I’d thought.
I wasn’t paying attention as Rafael explained our last activity, but I know what we’re about to do, and I’m not thrilled about it. Whoever picked this particular event is going on my shit list, and it couldn’t have been Rafael’s stoic arse.
By the time we hit the third activity, it was clear we’d be here all day if we didn’t change things up, and fast . Instead of the usual turn-taking, only the top three teams are racing to the finish line now, with a twist.
Which means I’m here, my right thigh plastered to the side of Rafael’s, with Velcro straps holding us together.
Chelsea and Nakoa stand to Rafael’s right, and to my left are Letty and Jelani, who have repeatedly tried to fail at every activity today, but even trying to lose, they still couldn’t manage. Talk about a bloody power couple.
“On your mark, get set, go!” Carson shouts, and we take off down the pitch. Or at least, we try .
“Pick up the pace, Elise, Jesus Christ,” Rafael grunts out beside me, hauling my body alongside him.
I can barely keep myself up straight, so I’m forced to retain a death grip on his thick bicep, and I absolutely do not notice the way his muscles ripple under my fingers. Absolutely not noticing that.
“You’re the one with your good leg still in use, you asshat,” I tell him through gritted teeth.
Anyone not tripping over their own feet with their legs tied to their partner is now standing by massive rubbish bins filled with water, armed with water guns.
“Who the hell came up with this in the first place?” I ask, my voice sounding shrill.
“Your father ,” he reminds me, his jaw ticking as he manoeuvres us down the field.
No surprise there.
I keep my eyes trained ahead, refusing to look at either team beside us. “Fuck!” I screech as ice-cold water splashes against my skin, goosebumps littering my flesh, and my nipples turn to hard peaks. First my father, and now my own body betrays me.
More sprays hit us, making it more and more difficult to stay upright as the ground becomes slippery. As if this wasn’t impossible enough.
“We’re going to get hurt, and then I’ll be pissed,” I mutter, and Rafael’s eyes flit to mine before dragging down my body quickly.
His eyes shoot back up to my face. Shaking his head, he winds an arm behind me, covering my shoulder blades.
His fingers dig into my skin as he hoists me an inch off the ground and drags us to the end of the field.
My eyes are wide as this hulk of a man carries both of our weight with only one of his legs in full use.
When we get to the end, we’re greeted by two big buckets of water being tossed over our heads.
My nostrils flare as I try to suck in enough air, working to calm my breathing as I push the soaking strands out of my eyes.
Rafael bends over, quickly working to undo our straps, my knee feeling like gelatine when we’re finally separated.
I shake out my heavy limbs, and heat creeps up my neck. My eyes find Rafael’s, but instead of settling on my face, they’re on my chest.
I look down and realise I’ve made a grave mistake.
“Bloody hell,” I groan.
At precisely the worst moment, a breeze skates across the field, chilling me to my core.
I can see a dark cloud in my periphery, a storm likely on the horizon.
My nipples pebble further, and if you couldn’t see them through my soaked white sports bra, you sure as hell can now.
My not-so-subtle teammates start a chorus of catcalls, whistling and laughing at my expense.
Normally, I’d brush it off—after all, it’s just their usual nonsense, but it’s not just anyone standing in front of me this time.
It’s Rafael, our new coach, the one my dad is so sure will help me land a spot on the Olympic team.
And suddenly, their teasing feels a lot less funny.
I should really remember that the next time I’m thinking about his tight ass.
Rafael’s eyes narrow, glaring at each of his teammates, several of whom are outwardly staring at my tits.
He grunts, whipping his shirt off over his head and tugging it over mine. I struggle under his hands. “What”—I spit, my hair stuck in my mouth—“the hell!”