Page 31 of Sinful Storms

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?”

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