CHAPTER SIX - RIVAL GAMES
874 Words
Ariella
Monday mornings suck.
They suck even more when the entire school is buzzing with whispers and smirks I know are about me. About my blog.
I clutch my pink binder to my chest as I walk through the hallway, pretending I don’t hear them. She wrote about him. Did you see the post? What a slut.
My cheeks burn, but I keep walking. Chin up. Pretend confidence.
And then I see him.
Remington Cole.
He’s leaning against the lockers like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Hands shoved in his pockets, hair messy in that perfectly styled way, grin lazy and careless. The playboy mask back in place.
But I see the truth in his eyes. The same storm from Friday still lingers there. And when they land on me, the smirk falters, just for a second.
I bite my lip. My chest aches. He kissed me. He ruined me. And then he walked away.
I want to scream at him. I want to kiss him again. I want everything.
But before I can move, someone else does.
“Hey.”
I blink, turn. A boy I’ve never seen before stands beside me. Tall, broad, with dark hair falling into sharp blue eyes. He’s handsome in a cleaner, sharper way than Remington—less dangerous, more polished.
“I’m Jaxon,” he says, voice smooth. “You’re Ariella, right?”
I nod, confused. “Uh… yeah.”
He smiles, easy and confident. “Thought so. You’re kind of… hard not to notice.”
My heart stutters. He’s flirting with me. And Remington—oh God, Remi’s watching.
A reckless spark lights in my chest. If he can pretend nothing happened, then maybe so can I.
“Nice to meet you, Jaxon.” I smile, bright and sweet, clutching my binder tighter. “Welcome to Oakmont.”
---
Remington
Who the f**k is that?
I’ve been leaning against these lockers for ten minutes, waiting for her. Waiting to see if she’d look at me, if she’d acknowledge what happened between us.
And then some asshole swoops in.
Jaxon. I’ve never seen him before. New kid. Perfect f*****g timing.
I clench my jaw as I watch him smile at her, lean a little too close, make her blush. And she lets him. She laughs, tucks her hair behind her ear, like she’s handing him the right to look at her like that.
My hands curl into fists. I should walk away. I should let her play her little game. But I can’t. Not when she’s mine.
I push off the locker and stalk toward them.
“Problem here?” My voice cuts through the hallway, low and sharp.
Jaxon glances at me, unimpressed. “No problem. Just introducing myself.”
I step closer, towering over him, eyes narrowed. “Well, introduction’s over.”
“Remi—” Ariella starts, but I don’t let her finish.
My arm snakes around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She gasps, her binder tumbling to the floor.
“She’s taken,” I say flatly, staring Jaxon down.
---
Ariella
My breath catches.
Taken?
Remi’s arm is like a steel band around me, holding me against him. My whole body hums with heat, my heart racing so fast I can’t think.
Jaxon raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Didn’t realize.”
He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t fight. Just gives me one last lingering look before shrugging and walking away.
But I barely see him.
Because Remington’s hand is still on me. His grip tight, possessive, burning through my sweater.
“Remi,” I whisper, looking up at him. My voice shakes. “What was that?”
His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. His jaw flexes. “That,” he murmurs, “was me making sure every bastard in this school knows you’re mine.”
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Remington
She stares up at me, wide-eyed, lips parted. Too innocent. Too tempting.
I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have claimed her like that. But the thought of anyone else—Jaxon, those assholes in the courtyard, anyone—touching her? No. Not happening.
Her pulse beats against my arm where I hold her. She’s trembling, but she’s not pulling away.
“You can’t just—” she starts, but I cut her off, leaning down so close my lips brush her ear.
“I can. And I will. Because you’re mine, Ariella.”
Her breath hitches, a tiny sound that makes my control snap thread by thread.
I want to take her here. Against the lockers. In front of everyone. I want the whole school to watch me ruin her.
But I force myself to let go, stepping back. My chest heaves. My mask threatens to crack.
The hallway buzzes with whispers, stares, rumors already spreading. But I don’t care.
Because they all just saw it.
She belongs to me.
---
Ariella
He walks away.
Again.
Leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway, shaking, binder on the floor, every pair of eyes on me.
My lips tingle where his breath touched. My body still burns from his grip.
And all I can think is—
He said I’m his.
But what if he doesn’t mean it?
- Writer
