Page 12 of Our Final Game

My whole body feels like it’s boiling.

I go after him again, and he shoots me down dead in my tracks. How the fuck is he so fast? Feel like he’s even faster than the last time we practiced. Was he just fucking around then?

“Rohan, slow down!” Zayne says over the headset, but I’m too pissed.

I only get in one more kill on Tyson before disaster strikes, and he practically starts hunting me. He knows exactly what I’m about to do before I can even think to do it. I’m getting crushed in spirit and in the game. I bite my lip so hard I break skin, the blood metallic on my tongue.

The clock rings out.

We lost.

Again.

I lost to Tyson again.

My gaze flicks toward him, and he’s staring directly at me. I must be hallucinating because he almost looks like he feels a little bad for me. Which makes me even more pissed to think he would feel bad. I don’t need Tyson Moon pitying me. The crowd’s cheers finally hit my ears, and I find myself on autopilot as I stand in the center of the stage for the handshake. When I finally reach Tyson, I think about not shaking his hand and skipping him completely, but I don’t want him to think he’s got me flustered.

Even though he does.

“Good game, Chandra.” He smiles, flicking his tongue over his snake bites before grasping my hand firmly.

His palm feels warm.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Why can’t you just loosen up and be a good sport for once?” Tyson says, then his voice lowers, and he pulls me a touch closer. “Maybe I could help you with that.”

I pull my hand back as if he’s set it ablaze. “I wouldn’t let you fuck me even if you were the last man on earth, Tyson,” I grit out.

“Who said anything about fucking Rohan?” He smirks, and I want to rip it off his stupid face.

“Ugh, just fuck off.” I sneer.

“I would love nothing more,” he says, rolling his eyes at me as if I were the biggest annoyance in his life.

“You’re acting like that after you were just flirting with me.”

“Was I? Or do you wish I were flirting with you?” He scoffs.

“Alright, alright, boys, enough,” Zayne says, nudging me down the line. I shake the rest of his teammates’ hands and dodge the interviewer. Because what the hell is there even to talk about? We lost, and I’ll be damned if I’m humiliated even more than I already have been.

I lost my chance at getting my title back again. My eyes begin to sting as tears I force back well up. Every time I face Tyson, I’m being shoved further away from my dream.

Chapter 6

Tyson

The strobe lights are a lot more annoying than they usually are in the club Roman has pretty much forced us all into celebrating at. Any other time, I probably wouldn’t care, have a drink or two, let some random boy kiss me, but I promised I’d be on tonight, so I need to make this quick. Roman, Mikah, Remi, and I all make our way through the moving bodies, sweet perfume and woodsy cologne mixed with a little sweat coat the air. When we get to the private section, Carter and Max, who begged me to come and celebrate when I know he really just wants a chance to bother Carter, are already there.

“Hey, Ty!” Carter grins. “You killed it.”

“Thanks, and thanks for keeping an eye on Max for me.”

“Yeah, Carter, thanks for keeping an eye on me,” my little brother says, batting his eyelashes at him.

“Uh, yeah, of course.” He chuckles, shaking his head at Max.

My brother gets up and pulls me in closer to him. “Oh, Ty, thanks for talking to Dad … sorry for, you know…” he whispers, reaching for my hand.