Page 86 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Alex

“Five minutes.”

Aubrey stepped into the back room of the mail office first, giving a quick wave of thanks to the student behind the counter before the door clicked shut with a quiet thud behind us. I turned my head toward Aubrey, but she was already moving toward the pile of packages stacked haphazardly on the wooden tables in front of us. The faint scent of cardboard and ink filled the air.

“We’ll have to hurry,” I mutter under my breath, glancing at the clock on the far wall.

Aubrey didn’t seem fazed. “Let’s get to work.”

We moved swiftly, our hands brushing against box after box. My eyes scan the labels with practiced speed, tossing aside the ones we weren’t looking for.

“Any luck?” Aubrey asked, her voice low as she yanked over another package, only to curse quietly when it wasn’t what we were looking for.

I shook my head, pushing another cardboard box aside. “Not yet.”

We sifted through package after package, the seconds ticking away in the back of my mind. But it was hard to focus. The memory of Bishop had been gnawing at the edges of my thoughts all week.

It had been just a few days since he’d not only tossed me into the fountain but also kissed me—roughly, with that maddening confidence of his. I couldn’t decide what was worse—the fact that he’d thrown me into that freezing water, or that the kiss had been so intense. It was hard to ignore how easily it had set my skin on fire. My thoughts flashed back to the moment when his lips crashed against mine, hard and demanding, like he wasn’t asking for permission but taking what he wanted. And I loved it. It wasn’t soft or gentle—hewasn’t soft—but that was exactly why it felt so good. And I hated that I wanted more of it.

But then he showed up at my dorm, just an hour later, knocking with that cocky grin of his. The second I realized it was him, I didn’t hesitate—I slammed the door right in his face.

No matter what excuse he might have had, he didn’t get to throw me into the fountain and then just walk away like nothing had happened. Not after everything he’d done to me since I arrived at Altair. So yeah, I slammed the door, and I didn’t feel bad about it.

As if that wasn’t enough, in the days that followed, things had only gotten worse. I kept finding torn pages from my botany notebook—the one he’dstolen—scattered all over campus. First,in the hallway of my dorm, then a day later, on a table in the dining hall, half-hidden under a napkin. It felt like my shadow was purposely leaving them for me to find.

Then today, I found one stuffed inside a random textbook in the library.

Every time I thought I could get some space from him, these fragments of my stolen notebook kept turning up—each one more infuriating than the last. And then to add to that, each one had a cigarette burn mark somewhere on the page.

He was messing with me—getting in my head. And it was working.

Every time I found one of those pages, I couldn’t help but think about him, think about that kiss. My mind would race back to the heat of it, the rush of something I couldn’t deny, and then I’d snap out of it, furious with myself all over again. I shouldn’t want him. I really shouldn’t.

But did Bishop care about what I felt? Of course not. He was still there, stuck in my mind no matter how hard I tried to push him out. Those notes were his way of punishing me, his way of forcing me to keep thinking about him, to keep him in my head.

Gah!He was doing it again, even now. I hadn’t even needed a reminder in the form of those notes. Bishop wasstillin my head, messing with me when I least expected it.

I clenched my fists, willing myself to pay attention. I couldn’t let him control my thoughts any longer, not right now. I shoved the thought aside and forced my attention back to the boxes in front of me. No more distractions. Time was running out. We didn’t have much of it, and what we were looking for was still buried under all this cardboard. Ihadto stay focused.

Aubrey and I had come up with this plan the other night outside by the fountain. I’d asked for her advice because, honestly, who better to talk to than her? She wasn’t one to judge, especially when it came to something like revenge. We’d spenttime chatting, hashing out the details, and by the time we were done, Aubrey was all in—fired up and ready to go. The only problem was, we had to wait. And wait. And wait some more, until we got word that Camden’s monthly package had arrived in the mail. Luckily, Aubrey had a friend who worked here, so we had our way in.

By the time we’d put everything together that night, I was in a pretty good mood, feeling like things were finally in my favor. Then, of course, that was when Bishop showed up out of nowhere and ruined everything.

One second, we were laughing, planning out the details, and the next—bam!—he had me tossed over his shoulder, and I was thrown into that freezing water, gasping for air. Completely blindsided.

Shit!

I shoved the thought of my shadow aside, frustrated with myself. Again.

I had to focus. I wasn’t here for him. I was here for Camden—for payback, not to keep getting caught up in the stupid mind games Bishop was playing with me.

“Found it!” Aubrey shouts beside me, then quickly realizes her mistake and whispers it again. I can’t help but let out a small chuckle as I glance at the name:Camden Lín-Whitlockscrawled across the top, with an international address listed below it.

“He has them shipped in from Japan,” Aubrey adds, casually explaining as I grab a pair of scissors and effortlessly slice open the box.

I pulled out the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and styling gel, stacking them neatly on the table as I sized them up. Camden had enough hair products to start his own salon. There was the premium shampoo with all the fancy ingredients, the expensive conditioner, and of course, the sleek gel that looked like it belonged in a high-end barbershop.

I grabbed the shampoo bottle and set the others aside—thiswas what I needed.

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