Page 12 of Reckless Hate

The girl picked to play opposite her smirked. “Okay, Coach.”

Samantha got out her tennis racket.

It barely took thirty minutes to win all three sets.

“Jason!” the coach shouted. “I want you to go next.”

Jason had a cocky smile too.

It took thirty minutes to win the three sets.

The coach couldn’t stop his excitement. But even as the coach beamed excitedly, the team looked shocked and annoyed. Samantha knew her teammates wouldn’t warm up to her anytime soon. She didn’t care.

She played six more sets with other team members who took up the challenge to play against her. By the time she was playing the last set, she was feeling tired due to proper lack of sleep and also a bit distracted.

That didn’t stop her from being able to win the last set.

“Excellent! Bravo!” The coach looked very happy. “You did very well, Samantha!”

“Thank you, Coach.”

The coach smiled. “The Simha team selections will begin in a few weeks. I’m hoping you will be picked to represent the university.”

She nodded.

She had been playing tennis since the age of four. Her father had not only taught her to play, he often took her to matches with him. Tennis became a part of her life. Even after her parents were divorced and she moved to Paris with her mother, she had not stopped playing the game. It was the only time she didn’t feel lonely.

“See you tomorrow for practice, Samantha. I’ll introduce you to the Simha head coach.”

Nodding at the Eagles coach, Samantha picked up her sports bag and headed back to her housing unit.

Although she was physically tired and sweating, she chose to walk back rather than take one of the shuttles.

Ten minutes later, she reached her apartment. Her roommates probably hadn’t returned, and the place was pitch dark inside. Turning on the lights inside the living room, she went towards her bedroom.

She was looking forward to a hot, refreshing shower. As soon as she stepped into her bedroom, she turned on the lights before pulling up her tennis shirt to remove it. But she froze halfway sensing a presence.

Her heart thudded as her eyes clashed with dark, intense ones. Seated on her study chair and facing her was Ved Simha.

His dark eyes fell on her bare midriff.

She let go of her t-shirt, glad she hadn’t removed it entirely. “Get out,” she ordered flatly.

The fact that he was inside her bedroom didn’t shock her. She had been expecting a confrontation since the previous morning when their eyes had met.

His eyes flashed, and he got up from the chair before coming towards her. As he neared, she had to raise her neck because he was at least half a foot taller than her and nearly twice as broad. While she was covered with dried sweat and grime from playing ten sets of tennis games, he was freshly showered and she could get the faint, clean smell of his soap and cologne.

If she were like any other girl, she would have been embarrassed, but all she felt right then was anger and an emotion she didn’t want to analyze.

He stopped barely a foot away from her.

“Why are you here?” he growled.

His tone was dark and menacing.

“Of all the bloody universities in the world, why the hell are you at Simha University?” he demanded.

She looked up at him, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar face.

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