Page 37 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Okay, so it’s definitely not him doing this.

O’Donnelly asks another question, her voice soft and calculating, and I answer it. Her foot hovers, brushing against my bare leg as if it’s some sort of twisted reward for my correct response. That can’t be right…can it? Her leg shifts, pressing a little higher, nearly to my knee now. The transition from accidental to deliberate is undeniable.

Her presence is too close now, her leg brushing mine with an intimacy that feels wrong, but she seems to be enjoying herself.

Before I can respond, O’Donnelly smiles again, though it’s colder now, as if she’s savoring some secret I’m not a part of—except I am. “Well done, Alex,” she purrs, her voice dripping with sweetness that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Clearly, Sylvester’s been an excellent tutor.”

The pressure against my leg increases, this time unmistakable. O’Donnelly’s leg isdeliberatelyrubbing against mine. My stomach flips in equal parts confusion and disgust.

Sylvester must sense my discomfort because he glances down, and even from my peripheral, I can see how his face contorts. He lets out a grunt and tugs me out of my seat, as if it’s his natural reaction to do so. I’m up and standing before I even have time to fully process what just happened.

I glance at him, confusion flaring as I try to make sense of the strange situation.

O’Donnelly watches us, her smile slowly fading. She takes her time, glancing between Sylvester and me. It’s almost as if she has the audacity to be slightly confused. She’s confused? I’m the one getting felt up by her, and I’m not even sure if those advances were meant for me.

Her voice breaks the silence, but it’s softer, almost pouty. “Ah, is our time up already?” she murmurs, as if she didn’t expect things to turn out this way.

I stand taller, still a little dizzy from the sudden shift. I’m trying to piece together what just happened. Sylvester’s hands, now released from mine, linger in the air for a moment before he folds his arms, his posture stiff. He doesn’t speak right away, but when he does, there’s something about him that’s closed off, like he’s no longer playing along with O’Donnelly’s little game.

“Yeah, we’ve had enough for the night,” Sylvester says, his voice flat but firm. He doesn’t look at O’Donnelly as he speaks, his gaze fixed firmly on me, as if silently making sure I’m okay.

Why should he care if I am?

I push the thought aside and stand straighter, brushing my shorts down. I don’t look at him as I start heading toward the door, my mind already running through ways to escape the situation. I don’t want to deal with any of this right now. Not with him. Not with O’Donnelly and her weird, uncomfortable flirtation.

“My roommate’s probably freaking out,” I mutter dismissively. “I should probably get back.”

The evening air outside hits my skin, but it’s not as cold as it was the other day, and thankfully, it’s not raining. Still, it doesn’t do much to shake the discomfort swirling in my stomach. I keep walking, needing distance from the situation.

“You know, you’re pretty fast for someone so short,” Sylvester jokes, easily catching up to me.

I wouldn’t call myself short, just average. But compared to the rest of the Legacies, who all seem to have freakishly tall genes, I definitely didn’t inherit that particular trait.

Regardless, I don’t respond to his attempt at humor and continue down the cobblestone path back to my dorm room.

“There’s a party happening tomorrow night down by the shoreline,” he says, trying to pull my attention away from my thoughts.

I keep walking, ignoring him completely.

“You should come,” he continues, his voice more persistent now. “Everyone will be there. It’s kind of a weekly thing.”

I quicken my pace, hoping he’ll get the hint, but of course, he doesn’t. Sylvester’s long strides easily match mine, his presence still lingering like a shadow. But he wasn’tmyshadow…that was Bishop.

“Look,” he says, his voice shifting to something more serious. “I know what you thought you saw back there with O’Donnelly. It’s not what you think.”

I can’t help but scoff, dismissing him. Really? Because it seemed pretty clear to me.

Sylvester sighs, dragging a hand through his blond locks like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s complicated. O’Donnelly, she…has a thing for younger guys, especially those from Legacy families. It’s not what you think.”

I stop walking and turn to face him. “Really? And what exactly do you thinkIthink?”

He’s defensive now, his voice sharp. “Ithink you’re being judgmental.”

“Judgmental?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but then again, maybe I can. “She’s a professor. A really,reallyold professor.” But a professor, nonetheless.

“I know that,” he responds defensively.

“Have you swallowed too much water swimming all those laps in the pool?”

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