Page 30 of Sinful Storms

TRISTAN

“Aria’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 withmyclosest 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. OurHatherley 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.

---