Page 59 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Aubrey immediately raises a single pointed finger, her eyes pleading. “Come on, just one race! Please?” She’s practically begging now, looking like a little kid at the candy store.

I chuckle despite myself, rolling my eyes. “Alright, alright. One race,” I mutter, knowing full well I’m giving in.

Aubrey takes my lack of resistance as a victory and immediately drops our stack of posters onto a nearby bench. She then grabs my arm, tugging me toward the stairs leading up to the second level where the seating is.

We find empty seats near the middle of the crowd. Aubrey immediately grabs a spot, practically flopping down, her excitement palpable. I, on the other hand, take a moment to glance around, trying to adjust to the vibe of the place.

I spot Sutton settling into her seat on the opposite side of the natatorium. It’s clear that her seat isn’t just anywhere in the crowd. The area where she’s sitting looks different—more closed off, smaller, and exclusive. It’s as if the seating arrangement has been designed specifically for a more selective group.

I tilt my head, wondering why Sutton was being so nice. I can’t help but remember how we used to get along before everything went sideways with the whole dress fiasco.

Now, here she is, all smiles and waves, acting like nothing happened. I’m not sure where we stand anymore. Maybe it’s just her playing nice to keep up appearances. It’s hard to tell, andfrankly, I’m not sure if I even care anymore, but it’s definitely perplexing.

Turning to Aubrey, I ask, “So what’s up with Sutton’s seat?” I tilt my chin, pointing to the exclusive area across the pool where Sutton’s comfortably situated.

Aubrey looks over at her, shrugging casually. “That’s the section for Legacies and their families. They have it all sectioned off only for them.”

I snort, shaking my head in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s some next-level nonsense.”

Aubrey nods, unfazed by my reaction. “Yup. Pretty much how it works around here.”

I glance back at the area where Sutton is sitting, my mind processing what Aubrey just said. “Are you able to sit there?” Camden is her cousin, after all.

Aubrey lets out a resigned sigh. “It’s a nice thought, but no. It’s hismom who’s the Legacy. And we’re technically only half-related, so I wouldn’t be allowed.”

I pause, letting her comment sink in. “Right.” I guess that makes sense.

Aubrey just shrugs it off, unbothered. “Eh, it’s more fun on this side of the stands anyway. Less…pretentious.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Fair enough.”

“Oh, the race is about to start,” Aubrey says, excited. I raise a pointed finger, like she had done to me earlier, silently reminding her that it’s just one race.

I look down noticing that I must’ve missed it when our team came out and started warming up. I didn’t see any of them getting ready.

Aubrey lets out an exaggerated sigh in response, brushing me off as the swimmers start to line up at the edge of the pool, ready for the race to begin.

Something catches my attention—Sylvester. He’s standing at the edge of the pool, his broad shoulders squared, muscles rippling as he adjusts his goggles. His body is lean but built, the kind of physique that looks like it’s been sculpted by hours of dedication. I can’t help but appreciate how good he looks.

His abs are defined, his biceps flexing slightly as he warms up, and I can’t deny his toned, muscular frame makes a strong impression. Sure, we’d hooked up once, and I didn’t think it would happen again, but I was still human. And it’s impossible not to admire the view.

I shake the thoughts away as Aubrey leans in, her excitement palpable. The horn blows, signaling the start of the race, and the swimmers dive in, kicking up a splash. Aubrey cheers, her voice ringing out as the competitors race fiercely, cutting through the water with ease.

I watch, mildly detached, as Sylvester effortlessly took the lead. His strokes were powerful and smooth, and it’s clear from the moment he hits the water that he’s in control. The crowd cheers, and it’s almost like they all know the outcome already. Sure enough, Sylvester glides to the wall first, pulling himself out of the pool with the kind of smooth precision only a champion could muster.

“Amazing!” Aubrey exclaims, practically jumping in her seat. “He’s definitely got that winner’s form.”

Water drips down from Sylvester’s toned frame. He looks like he’s walking in slow motion, each step calculated. He casts a look over his shoulder, scanning the stands, and—of course—he grins. A wide, theatrical smile, like he’s the main character in a movie, soaking in the attention.

He straightens his back and raises one arm in an exaggerated bow toward the crowd, his eyes flicking around the room as he does. It’s so over the top that I can’t help but roll my eyes, but then his gaze shifts, and that grin is aimed straight at me. Hiseyes are confident, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing, the way his body glistens in the light, his muscles taut and perfectly sculpted.

For a second, I don’t know how to feel. It’s not that I like him, like that—because I really don’t. And it’s hard not to notice the way he holds himself with such self-assurance. It’s a little magnetic, in that infuriating, cocky way.

What strikes me most, though, is the silence. No one’s shouting athim. No one’s calling out “Leaky Legacy” now that he’s standing there, center stage, soaking wet and smug. They had no problem yelling it at Sutton earlier, but Sylvester? Nothing. Maybe it’s because he just won. Maybe it’s because he’s a boy. Who knows. Still, the contrast feels sharp—contradictory, even.

“Oh my god, do you see the way he’s looking at you right now?” Aubrey says, practically buzzing with excitement.

I blink, giving an absentminded, “Yeah…I guess.”

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