Claimed By My Ex's Evil Rival

Sloane “Do I look fat?” Thea stops walking and turns to me slowly. Her expression is so serious you'd think I'd just confessed to murdering someone and hiding the body under my bed. I immediately regret opening my mouth. “Sloane Monroe, I swear to God, if you ask me that s**t one more time, I'm going to smack you with your own f*****g scarf.” I glance down at myself. I'm wearing baggy jeans, a cream sweater, and the blue Frost Wolves scarf Jace gave me last Christmas. My long brown hair falls over my shoulders, and I've spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to make it look pretty this morning. Not too pretty, though. God forbid I look like I'm trying too hard for my own boyfriend, which is f*****g pathetic, but here we are. “You look cute as f**k,” Thea says, gripping my shoulders. “You're smart, you're funny, and you have a body that deserves to be worshipped by a man with at least three functioning brain cells. Now, if you ask me that question again, I'll shave your boyfriend's eyebrows off while he sleeps.” I snort. “You're supposed to be supportive.” “I am supportive. I'm supporting your right to dump his ass and find someone who'll eat you out like he's trying to win a f*****g Olympic medal.” “THEA!” “What? Am I lying?” My face burns as she chuckles, looking far too pleased with herself. “Holy f**k,” I mutter. “You need professional help.” “And you need a new boyfriend.” That's Thea Rhodes, my best friend, with the mouth of a sailor, the morals of a raccoon, and the loyalty of someone who'd help me hide a body before asking if we should cut it into pieces first. She's also the only person on this campus who knows I'm dating Jace Hayes, except Alessia Devereaux, his annoying ass friend. But that's a whole other episode of *Why the f**k Is My Life a CW College Drama?* “Seriously, though,” Thea says, hooking her arm through mine as we cross the university parking lot. “Why are we wasting our Friday night watching your emotionally unavailable boyfriend chase a puck around an ice rink?” “Because I love him.” She makes a gagging sound. “Ew. Stop. I can feel the secondhand embarrassment attacking my immune system.” I roll my eyes. “You're so dramatic.” “And you're so f*****g in love with that man, it's becoming a public health concern.” Unfortunately, she's right. I'm disgustingly, embarrassingly, hopelessly in love with Jace Hayes. It's the kind of love that makes you smile at a good morning text like you've just received a marriage proposal from Henry Cavill, save his stupid selfies, replay his voice notes, and kiss your phone screen like a complete f*****g lunatic. Don't judge me. Love has made me do worse. “Tell me again why we're going to watch him play,” Thea says. “Didn't he promise to come to your cat fundraiser yesterday?” I tighten my grip on my bag. “He had practice.” “He had a promise.” “Thea.” “No, don't Thea me. You spent two weeks organizing that thing. You begged people for donations, printed flyers until your fingers nearly fell off, and practically adopted every stray cat on campus. All he had to do was show up and pretend to be a decent boyfriend for thirty minutes.” “He'll make it up to me.” “When? In 2047? Will he send you a bouquet from the nursing home?” I laugh despite myself. The fundraiser mattered to me because the money was for food and basic veterinary care for the stray cats living around campus. It wasn't glamorous, but it was something I'd worked hard on, and Jace knew that. He'd kissed my forehead when I told him about it and promised he'd be there. Then Thursday evening arrived, and I got a text saying practice had run late. No apology, no offer to make it up to me that day, just a message and a heart emoji, as if that little red symbol could fix everything. I told him it was fine because apparently, I have the self-preservation instincts of a f*****g goldfish. “The team had extra training,” I say. Thea stops dead. “Girl, I love you, but if you keep sucking that man's d**k in your imagination, at least charge him rent. He's living in your head for free.” “WHAT THE f**k?” She bursts out laughing, and I smack her arm while she continues laughing like a damn witch. God, give me strength. The worst part is that I know she's not entirely wrong. Jace has been blowing me off a lot lately, but he's working toward his dream, and hockey means everything to him. I know that better than anyone because I've known Jace since we were kids. We grew up next door to each other, and when I was twelve, I fell through the ice on a frozen lake and nearly drowned. Jace jumped in after me, dragged me out soaked to the bone, and wrapped me in his jacket while he cried harder than I did and shouted for help. My personal Disney prince. A twelve-year-old boy with chattering teeth and snot running down his face, but still, a hero is a hero. We grew up together, became best friends, and eventually started dating in high school. For a while, everything was perfect. We kissed in empty classrooms, sneaked around on dates, stayed up late talking about our future, and made promises that felt unbreakable. Then we got admitted to Lakewood University together. We were both invisible but happy, at least until the end of our freshman year, when Jace scored the winning goal in a promotion match and the universe decided my life needed a shitty plot twist. Overnight, he became the golden boy of the Frost Wolves. Suddenly, everyone knew his name, girls who'd barely looked at him before were throwing themselves at him, and his schedule became busier than the president's. Somewhere along the way, my boyfriend decided our relationship was a state secret. No holding hands on campus, no public kisses, and no sitting together when his teammates were around. Apparently, being seen with me could ruin his image. The first time he told me that, I cried in my bedroom for an hour. The second time, I apologized. Yeah, I'm not proud of that either. The stress eventually got so bad that I started taking medication for my anxiety. My appetite changed, and I began eating whenever I felt overwhelmed. Before I knew it, I'd gained a significant amount of weight. I went from slim to fat as f**k, and my confidence promptly packed its bags and moved to another country. I know weight doesn't determine my worth. I'm an honor student on scholarship, for God's sake. I can explain complicated mathematics theories, write an essay in my sleep, and identify at least five reasons why my boyfriend is currently pissing me off. Yet somehow, I still worry I'm not pretty enough for him. Make it make sense. The arena comes into view, surrounded by students in blue-and-white jerseys. Girls shriek over their phones near the entrance, and someone has painted a wolf across his cheek. Thea points toward the doors. “Look at these people. You'd think the f*****g Avengers were playing.” “Jace is really good.” “I'm sure he is, babe. But so is my vibrator, and I don't see people buying tickets to watch me use it.” I choke on a laugh. “You're actually disgusting.” “But you love me.” “I do.” “More than Jace?” “f**k you.” She rolls her eyes. “Hater.” I laugh, but as we approach the entrance, my smile begins to fade. I take a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs before slowly sighing as yesterday's memory comes rushing back. I'd been on my way to the fundraiser when I passed a bakery near the student center. I wasn't planning to stop, but I spotted two familiar figures through the glass doors. Jace and Alessia. His blond hair was impossible to mistake, especially when he'd spent twenty minutes that morning complaining about needing a haircut. Alessia stood beside him in a pretty little outfit, smiling up at him with a cake in her hand while he held the bakery door open for her. They looked comfortable together. Too comfortable, maybe. I'd stood across the street like an i***t, clutching my bag and watching them laugh as they walked away. Yesterday was Alessia's birthday, and Jace had gone to celebrate with her instead of attending my fundraiser. Thea doesn't know about any of this.