Page 112 of The Ruthless Rivalry

I roll my eyes, brushing off his comment with a casual wave of my hand. “Whatever you’re offering, I don’t want it,” I say dismissively. “I’m not in the market to do any more of your favors.”

Bishop’s expression stays unfazed. “Tomorrow they pick the teams for the games. I want you there. Front row.”

I blink, completely caught off guard.

Wait, what? Why would he want me to be there? He’s been trying to get me to leave Altair since I arrived. Why the sudden interest in having me around?

“Pass.”

Bishop shrugs, clearly expecting this response. “Figured you’d say that,” he says. Then, in that same casual tone, he adds, “I’ll make it easy for you. How about you babysit my sister for a few hours instead?”

The suggestion leaves me completely stunned. “Your sister?” I stare at him, my mind trying to catch up. “You have a sister?” I hadn’t even known. He’s always so independent, so focused on himself. The idea of him having a sibling seems almost impossible to wrap my head around. “Since when?”

“Since my mother had her,” he says nonchalantly. “She’s a handful, and I’m busy. You owe me. Watch her for a bittomorrow. No one will even know you’re doing me a favor. Simple.”

I blink, still processing his words. Babysit his sister? This was the same guy who made it clear he didn’t want me around, and now he’s asking me to help him with something that seems so personal. It’s all too much, too sudden. I don’t know if he’s serious, or just messing with me, but either way, I don’t buy it.

“You want your book back, right?” he says, waving my notebook between us like it’s a bargaining chip and not something he outright stole from me.

“Forget it,” I say, my voice firm. “I’m not helping you. I don’t know why you’re even asking, but I’m not interested. I’ve got better things to do.”

As I speak, I notice that the Ferris wheel is starting to lower, the ground coming closer.

Without thinking, I abruptly rise from my seat, ready to make a quick exit. But as soon as I stand, the pod moves and Bishop tenses beside me. I can practically feel the shift in his energy, his gaze flicking over to me with something like…panic?

Before I can even process what’s happening, he reaches out and yanks me back down, pulling me into his lap with a roughness that takes me by surprise, but it does nothing to stop me.

“Hey!” I snap, glancing over to the student running the Ferris wheel. “Can you open—”

But the guy’s eyes flick to Bishop, and suddenly he doesn’t even acknowledge me. His gaze shifts back to the controls, and he continues without missing a beat, clearly deciding not to get involved with whatever’s going on between us.

“Coward,” I complain under my breath.

Bishop leans back in his seat, pulling me closer against him. The Ferris wheel starts up again, taking us higher, as if we’re going for another lap. I feel the change in the air, the subtletension in his shoulders, but I’m not sure what to make of it. I force myself to breathe, focusing instead on the fact that I’m once again wedged in his lap—and if I wasn’t so angry, I wouldn’t outright hate it.

He meets my gaze again, his smirk still in place, but there’s something about his grip, something off about the way he’s holding me, like he’s trying to keep me anchored in place. It’s almost as if he’s trying to steady himself, but I’m too annoyed to bother to figure out why.

“Let go of me!” I snap, trying to wiggle free, but he’s not exactly making it easy.

“So is that a no to the babysitting job?” he asks, voice teasing, but the usual playful glint is missing from his eyes.

“Spending an entire afternoon stuck in a room with nothing but a pile of paperwork and a broken pencil sharpener sounds more appealing.”

“That so?” Bishop lets out a low chuckle, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me swallow, knowing he could andwouldmake that happen if I wasn’t careful.

“I’ll take my chances,” I say, trying to wriggle out of his grip again, but he doesn’t budge.

The Ferris wheel continues its slow, deliberate lap. The air feels heavier now, the ground far below us. Bishop sighs dramatically, making it sound like he’s about to make the greatest sacrifice of his life. Then, in one smooth motion, he shifts, letting me slide off his lap and back onto my seat.

“I’ll settle for a kiss, then,” Bishop says, his tone smooth, almost casual, as if he’s offering a simple trade. Like it’s the most reasonable request in the world.

My chin jerks up in surprise, caught off guard. “Really? That’s all? After all of this, you just want a kiss?”

A sly, almost mischievous grin tugs at his lips. He leans in slightly, as if the whole thing is some inside joke I’m not privyto, and his voice drops to a quiet, conspiratorial whisper. “You want your notebook back, don’t you? Go on, distract me. Show me how much you want it.”

I scoff, but part of me can’t help the way my body moves forward in spite of myself. It’s like I’ve lost control over this ridiculous situation. For some stupid reason, I’m actually starting to lean into the absurdity of it all. I’m closer now, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, the faint hint of something like amusement in the air around us.

My lips part slightly, my heartbeats thudding in my chest. This is just our version of foreplay, right? A stupid game. That’s all it is.

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