Dangerously Yours: Caught Between My Step Brother and His Rival

002. The Devil's Jersey...

Nobody moved.

Chloe’s smile froze on her face. The phone was still in her hand, but her arm dropped slowly to her side, like she was lowering a weapon because someone more dangerous had just entered the room.

Ryder stood there in nothing but a towel, dripping water onto the tile, and somehow looked more dangerous than any fully dressed person had a right to.

"What?" Chloe finally found her voice, though it came out about two pitches too high. "Ryder, come on. It's just a joke. We were messing with the intern, that's all."

"Did I stutter?" Ryder took a slow step forward. The steam from the shower room still curled around his shoulders like it didn't want to leave him either. "The phone. Now."

Chloe held it out, her hand visibly shaking. "Ryder, come on, I didn't even post it yet…"

He didn't wait for her to finish. He snatched the phone right from her grip. He didn't scroll through it to find the video. He didn't ask her to delete it. He just raised his arm and smashed it directly into the metal locker beside him.

The screen shattered with a crack so loud I felt it in my back teeth. The phone hit the floor in pieces and stayed there, completely dead.

Chloe stumbled backward. "My phone! Are you out of your mind? Do you know what that cost?"

"I don't give a damn," he replied flatly, his icy eyes narrowing with disgust. "This isn’t high school, Chloe. And I am sick of your toxic drama. Especially in my locker room. I told you we were done, and I told you to stop showing up here."

"But we were just…"

"I said, get the fvck out." He finally looked at her fully, and the cold look in his gaze made Chloe flinch backward. "All three of you. Before I decide to call campus security down here and tell them you’re trespassing and recording students without their consent."

Jess didn't wait to hear the rest. She was out the door before he finished the sentence. Britt followed with her head down.

Chloe sttod there for another few seconds, staring at her destroyed phone on the floor. Then she shot me one last venomous look, before stomping out after her minions. The heavy locker room doors slammed behind her hard enough to rattle the lockers.

Then silence.

The only sound was the steady dripping of water from Ryder's wet hair onto the tile, the hum of the overheadlights and my own heartbeat slowly coming down from the ceiling.

I should have bolted for the door the second they left, but my legs felt like lead.

I was still practically in my underwear, my grey shirt was ruined on the sticky floor, and Britt had kicked my clipboard all the way under the benches.

I stood there, totally frozen, wrapping my arms tightly around myself.

I knew he had just saved me, my scholarship, maybe my entire future, but the words "thank you" stuck in my throat like ash.

I couldn’t say them.

Saying thank you to Ryder felt like signing a deal with the devil.

Everyone on campus knew he was the biggest fvckboy to ever walk through the doors. He went through girls faster than he went through hockey tapes… fast and without much thought. He’d sleep with a girl, ruin her, and not even remember her name the next morning.

Plus, he was Cole's rival and worst enemy… a cocky, arrogant bully who loved playing mind games. Giving him any kind of gratitude meant giving him power, and I wasn't going to be another naive girl falling at his feet.

Ryder walked over to his open locker without a word. He reached inside, pulled out a large, black and red practice jersey, and turned to me.

He threw it. It hit me squarely in the chest.

"Put it on.”.

I caught the heavy fabric before it fell to the floor. "I don't need your help," I snapped, the leftover adrenaline making my tone super defensive. "I have my own shirt."

"Your shirt is soaked in whatever the hell was spilled on the floor earlier.” He leaned his bare back against the lockers, completely relaxed, like none of what just happened had cost him anything. "Just put it on, intern. Unless you want to still be dressed like that when the rest of the team comes out."

My face burned with immediate heat. I quickly pulled the oversized jersey over my head. It was massive on me, the hem fell well past my mid-thigh, and the sleeves swallowe my hands completely.

I shoved them up to free my fingers, trying very hard not to notice the clean, sharp mint smell, mixed with something warmer.

"I didn't ask you to step in," I muttered.

"You're welcome," he shot back sarcastically.

He pushed off the lockers and started walking toward me. I instinctively took a step back, my spine hitting the cold metal door. He didn't stop until he was standing a couple of feet away. Close enough that the damp heat still coming off his skin was a thing I had to consciously ignore.

His eyes moved over me slowly, taking in how his oversized jersey completely swallowed my frame. Something shifted at the corner of his mouth; it wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was close. The arrogant kind.

"You know," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "You should really learn to lock the main doors when you're in here alone."

"I can handle myself fine," I lied.

"Yeah. Looked like it."

"Don't flatter yourself. I was about to deal with it."

"Sure you were." The almost-smile got a little wider. He leaned in a fraction closer, and I became very aware that there were approximately four inches between his bare chest and the front of his jersey, which I happened to be currently wearing. "Try not to get eaten alive before the season even starts, Amy. I'd really hate to have to train a new equipment manager."

"Don't worry about me."

"I wasn't." He chuckled, clearly amused by my hostility. "But I gotta admit,” he whispered, leaning in just a fraction more so his deep voice practically vibrated against my skin. “It’s something, seeing you wear my name on your back. Looks good on you.”

My mouth went completely dry. I couldn't form a single word to fight back.

He pulled back, gave me one last lingering look, then turned and walked away toward the training room at the far end of the lockers. “Stay out of trouble, intern."

I leaned back against the locker, closing my eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath to try and get my heart rate under control. My pulse was doing something embarrassing and I couldn’t help but ask myself, what the hell just happened?

Creak.

The heavy sound of the equipment closet door opening from the far side of the room made my eyes snap open. A tall figure stepped out from the shadows.

My stomach dropped so fast it hit the floor.

"Cole." The word came out barely above a whisper. "How long have you been in there?"

He completely ignored my question. He crossed the room in three long, heavy strides, his jaw locked and his dark eyes fixed on me. I couldn't fully read his expression; it was definitely anger, but there was something else layered underneath that made the air feel suddenly thick.

Before I could move or speak, his taped hand shot out, grabbing my upper arm with a painful, tight grip.

"Let go of me, you're hurting me," I panicked, trying to yank my arm away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cole hissed. He jerked me slightly forward, his eyes boring into mine. "Didn't I tell you to stay the fvck away from him?"