16. Tristan
16
TRISTAN
“ A ria’s here.”
“What?” Shielding my eyes from the bright sun, I scanned the stands where the away team spectators were gathered. It shouldn’t have surprised me, given the fact she’d attended several of Hatherley Hall’s lacrosse games, but this was an away game, which meant effort. We always had a much smaller away crowd, and I couldn’t remember seeing Aria at an away game before. Not that I’d been looking.
My gaze was drawn straight to her, and I growled under my breath, not even realising I’d done it until I heard Knox’s low chuckle next to me.
“Still no love lost between you two even now?”
My head whipped around, my brows flying up as I took in his posture. Deceptively relaxed, with his lacrosse stick dangling from one gloved hand, his other resting on the metal barrier that ran around the edge of the field. It would’ve lulled me into a false sense of security if it hadn’t been for the blatant smirk on his face, clear despite the helmet he’d just jammed on his head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bit out, moving closer. I tossed the ball up and down in my net, my helmet clasped firmly in my other hand.
“We all heard what happened between you two.”
A heavy arm slung itself across my shoulders. “Are we talking about Tris’ tryst with the girl he pretends to hate?”
I shook Roman’s arm off, shoving him in his side. He stumbled, laughing, before shooting Knox a conspiratorial glance.
“You’re right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, swiping the lacrosse ball from my scoop and launching it across the field by hand. My two best mates turned to me with identical raised brows.
“Mate, I hate to tell you, but in lacrosse, we use our sticks, not our hands.”
I gave Knox the finger.“Fuck you both. What did you hear?”
“We heard you fucked.” To his credit, Knox glanced around us and lowered his voice before speaking, but I was still pissed off. So Aria had been gossiping about me, had she? No, that wasn’t like her. She’d probably told her closest friends—who just so happened to be in relationships with my closest friends. Even so?—
“Our girls didn’t tell us anything, if that’s what you’re about to say,” Roman said. “We’re just good at reading them.”
“They’re too good at reading us,” Knox muttered, and Roman grimaced, giving him a commiserating pat on the back. His gaze turned back to me.
“We saw the marks, too, even though she tried to hide them. If you wanna be subtle about it, maybe don’t go leaving your fingerprints and teeth marks on her throat.”
“Or letting her scratch down your back because we can all see that shit when we’re changing for our games.” Knox smirked, and I gritted my teeth.
“Fuck off. All that evidence is circumstantial. There’s no proof that either of us left those marks on each other. Whatever did or didn’t happen was a mistake, and it’s not gonna happen again. Forget about it. The only thing you two need to focus on is winning this game, okay?” I raised my voice. “That goes for the rest of you. Focus. We’re better than them, and we’re going to win this.”
Cheers went up from my teammates, and I grinned, ducking down to grab my gloves from where I’d thrown them. Pulling them on, I glanced back at the stands. Aria was leaning against the railing, staring at her phone while Elena and Quinn conversed with Katy and her boyfriend Will, my head boy replacement.
Swiping the bundle of fabric from the grass, where it had been lying next to my gloves, I jogged over to the away stands, coming to a stop in front of Aria.
Her gaze snapped to mine, her eyes shooting little stinging daggers at me. My smile widened, despite the fact that my coming over here would reinforce whatever delusional theories Knox and Roman had.
“My good luck charm. It was so nice of you to come.” I blew her a kiss. “I saved this for you. It’s nice and warm from my body heat.”
With that, I threw my lacrosse hoodie at her. She caught it with an automatic reflex, and I didn’t bother waiting for her to start swearing at me or desecrating my hoodie. I jogged away to the centre of the field. Just in time for the Burford team to take up their positions.
From that moment on, I forgot about everything else. I was the captain, and I took my responsibilities seriously. Our Hatherley Hall lacrosse team was the strongest in a long time, and for those of us in our final year, we were determined to go down in the history books.
“Pass!” I shouted to Ty, who spun, flinging his stick in an arc, sending the ball straight to Roman. The goal was wide open, and Roman was prepared, honed from the hours we’d spent in gruelling practices. He smashed it straight into the back of the net.
The cheers of the away fans registered in the back of my mind as I ran for my teammates, hugging and backslapping them. Then we were back in the game. One goal wasn’t enough to secure a win.
I shouted instructions along with our coach, racing down the field, my brain constantly working overtime to calculate our chances. My teammates were good at working with their instincts, and we scored again less than five minutes later.
We could do this. The win was within our grasp.
Even when Burford scored, I didn’t falter. A win was the only acceptable outcome, and we were going to do it.
We did. We won, 3-1.
As soon as the game ended, I threw down my lacrosse stick, hugging my teammates, caught up in the euphoria of a win. I barely noticed the Burford team shuffling away, defeated.
When we made it back to the changing rooms, I gave what I hoped was an inspirational speech about how we’d done well and nothing was going to stop us from winning the league. When our coach, Saunders, stepped in to give his own speech, I tuned out, digging through my duffel bag to find my towel. As I began stripping off my sweaty clothes, Knox spoke low in my ear.
“What’s that?”
I followed his gaze to my bag.
Partially obscured by the miscellaneous things filling the interior was an envelope with my name handwritten in block capitals.
A trickle of unease made its way down my spine. “I don’t know,” I murmured, using my foot to push my bag underneath the benches. Knox nodded once and then moved towards Roman, who was deep in conversation with Link over the other side of the changing room, stripped down to his jock.
With a sigh, I kicked off my own jock and headed for the showers, my towel draped over my arm. I wasn’t going to look at whatever was in that envelope while everyone else was around, and I really needed a shower. I was fucking tired out, sweaty, and muddy.
By the time I’d showered and changed, most of my teammates had disappeared, taking their places on the minibus that would return them to Hatherley Hall. I’d arrived here in Knox’s SUV, and so I had the luxury of taking my time. I knew Knox wasn’t in any rush.
When I made it outside, Knox was leaning against the side of his Maserati Levante with his arms wrapped around his girlfriend, his head bent towards hers. Hearing the crunch of my footsteps over the gravel, he raised his head, nodding towards the open back door.
“Aria’s inside.”
I held up my middle finger. “Fuck off.”
Throwing my bag onto the back seat, I climbed inside. Roman beeped his horn from behind us, indicating that he wanted us to move out of the way, and Knox and Elena wasted no time in sliding inside.
“Couldn’t be bothered to drive?” Aria said as soon as I was seated with my bag in between us.
I met Knox’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He smirked at me. “Knox likes to pretend he’s my chauffeur,” I told her.
“Love it,” he agreed, resting one hand on Elena’s thigh as he steered us onto the main road. “Or maybe I love the fact that you two are trapped in a small space together and are forced to interact.” Elena laughed, and Aria huffed. I settled back in my seat, my jaw clenched. My friends were utter wankers sometimes.
I glanced across at Aria. I purposely hadn’t looked at her when I got in the SUV, but now I did a double take.
She was wearing my lacrosse hoodie .
My head was spinning. The sight of her, swamped by my navy hoodie, with my fucking name written across the back, did things to my dick that I really didn’t appreciate. Did she even realise she was wearing it? What did it mean? Why had I even thrown it to her in the first place?
“Fucking hell,” I muttered.Her gaze flew to mine, her eyes wide, and we stared at each other for one long, charged moment.
“The letter!” I shouted, panicking like a complete dick.
“Did you open it?” Knox said.
“What letter?” Elena asked at the same time.
Not bothering to reply to either of them, I fished the envelope from my duffel and opened it.
I unfolded the piece of paper, staring at the typed message.
Don’t go digging into the past.
Beneath the message was a now familiar symbol. The scales.
“What the hell?” I handed the letter to Aria, my hoodie problem temporarily forgotten, and she scanned it quickly, her eyes growing huge.
“Professor Watkins?”
“It has to be. He’s the only one we asked. I mean, we asked my dad about your great-uncle but not about the secret society.” I glanced up. “Knox, did you ask your parents about the secret society?”
“Yeah. They didn’t know anything, though. Believe me, I can tell when my parents are lying.” He paused. “I think. But they’d have no reason to lie about it.”
“Quinn’s parents didn’t know anything, either,” Elena added.
“So why the fuck would Professor Watkins start threatening us? There has to be something he wants to keep secret.”
“Obviously.” Aria rolled her eyes at me, but then she sighed. “I guess I’ve got no choice at this point. I’ll have to speak to my grandparents and risk upsetting them by dragging up the past. It’s either that, or we forget about the whole thing.”
I shook my head. “No way. I want to know what’s on those missing pages. It has to be something good if Professor Watkins wants to send us threats over it. Not like he could do anything. He’s not the one with the power in this town.”
“I want to know, too,” Aria admitted. “So I’ll speak to my grandparents. I’ll have to arrange a visit in person. If I speak to them on the phone, I won’t be able to tell if they’re lying or anything.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to speak to my grandfather, too.” I’d have to steel myself to suffer through another interrogation about my future. Although…
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sent a text to my mother.
Me:
We need to celebrate father’s appointment as mayor. I have an idea if you want to hear it
Surprisingly, I only had to wait a few minutes for her reply.
Mother:
Do tell.
Me:
How about a party at Uncle Jack’s manor house? You know grandfather will want to attend and that way he won’t have a chance to say anything about the drawing room
I was counting on the fact that my mother still held a grudge over my grandfather insulting the décor in our drawing room, which had been redone to her specifications, and therefore, she took it as a personal insult. Most of their parties were held there because it was the biggest room in our house.
Mother:
Don’t tell your father I said so, but that man has dreadful taste. Perhaps we could host it at the manor. It would be a suitable location for a more intimate gathering.
Me:
Exactly what I was thinking.
Mother:
Leave it to me, darling. I will make preparations.
Me:
OK
That done, I pocketed my phone, smiling to myself. Having a party would give me a buffer, which would hopefully stop my grandfather from interrogating me, and if it seemed like he did know something, I’d have the chance to snoop around.
“Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?”
I glanced up at Aria. Instead of answering her question, I said, “Blue suits you.”
She gasped, her cheeks flushing a deep pink as her honey eyes glittered with anger. Evidently, she had forgotten she was wearing my hoodie. I grinned as she ripped it off as fast as humanly possible, throwing it at me, and laughed outright at the expression of pure loathing she shot in my direction.
“You should feel privileged, Aria,” Knox said. “Tristan doesn’t ever let girls wear his hoodies.”
“Yeah, because I don’t want them getting the wrong idea and thinking they’re my girlfriend.”Silence fell, and I replayed that sentence in my head. “Oh, fuck off! I didn’t mean Aria was my girlfriend. I meant she wouldn’t get the wrong idea because?—”
“—we hate each other,” Aria bit out, and I nodded quickly.
“Yeah. See. She knows.”
“I didn’t say anything about girlfriends.” Knox smirked at me in the mirror, and I gave him a warning look, which didn’t deter him at all. No, the fucker that was supposed to be my friend continued running his big mouth. “I just find it interesting how you gave Aria the hoodie and how she decided to wear it. That’s a pretty big statement coming from the two of you.”
“It clouded over, and I got cold. That was it. Nothing more to it. If people want to see things that aren’t there, that’s their problem. I don’t give a fuck what anyone wants to say about me. The golden boy isn’t about to give up his manwhore crown, so his legions of fans are safe, and anyone who knows me knows that he’s the last person on this planet I’d want as a boyfriend.”
Elena twisted in her seat to look at her friend. “Ignore Knox. He’s only trying to wind you up.”
“You did sleep together,” he pointed out.
“Hate sex is a thing,” Aria muttered, slumping back in her seat. I did my best to ignore the way she’d folded her arms beneath her tits and how the tight black top she was wearing gave me an amazing view of those pretty little curves.
“Yeah. You fucked Elena when you hated her. It happens,” I reminded my best friend, and a thoughtful expression came over his face.
“I don’t know if I did hate her. And I don’t think you two hate each other.”
Up ahead, the tall iron gates of Hatherley Hall came into view. “We’re here,” I said, changing the subject. I was only wasting my breath trying to defend myself. “Drop the girls off, and we’ll go to the sports centre. Saunders wants a debrief.” Shoving my hoodie inside my duffel bag, I zipped it up and then held out my hand to Aria.
“What?”
“The letter.”
She slapped it into my hand, and I carefully folded it and slid it back inside the envelope, tucking it into the side pocket of my duffel.
Why had Professor Watkins given me that letter? What was he trying to hide?