Page 48 of Twisted Play

My first instinct was to burst in, to demand answers, but something held me back. Eva pulled out a phone—not her usual one with the cracked screen—and started photographing documents. Eva moved with care—the way she wrapped players’ ankles, the way she arranged the med kit, every motion exact—but now, she could barely hold the phone steady enough to take pictures.

Betrayal hit me like a body check, driving the air from my lungs. Rage and a darker, hungrier emotion coiled in my gut.

Eva’s head snapped up, already turning toward the door as I shoved it open. The phone slipped from her fingers, skittering across the floor to land at my feet. For a heartbeat, she froze, and then her body snapped into that perfect posture she always maintained. But everything else betrayed her—her uneven breathing, the way her fingers splayed against her thigh, pressing so hard I could see the dents in her skin through her leggings.

My cock hardened, and I hated myself for it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I growled, not taking my eyes from Eva, who nervously straightened a stack of file folders.

“N-nothing.” She wet her lips. Such a terrible liar for someone hiding so much. She played with the files, trying to cover what she’d been doing, but her hands shook too badly to be effective.

I bent down slowly to retrieve the phone, never takingmy eyes off her. The screen was cracked worse than her regular phone, the cheap plastic case scratched to hell. How long had she been doing this?

“What the fuck are you doing?” I repeated, advancing on her. Eva retreated until her back hit the wall. The scent of her fear—vanilla and terror and something citrusy—made my head spin.

“Looking for something,” she said softly, her eyes downcast.

I stared at the cracked screen, my jaw ticking with frustration. She’d been rifling through our fucking files. Why?

“What are you taking pictures of?” I asked her. When she shook her head, I pressed closer, using my body to cage her in.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

“Liar.” The word came out like a caress. “What’s Coach going to think when he finds out you’ve been doing this?”

Her breath hitched—just once, but it was like watching a crack spread through glass. “Please don’t.” The word was barely audible. Her eyes darted to the door then back to me. Another crack in her composure. “I need this job.”

Eva trembled so hard, I could feel it where our bodies almost touched.

Idly, I entered the passcode I’d memorized when we’d hooked up before the semester began. To my shock, it worked.

The Devil

I want copies of the players’ files.

Don’t make me wait.

Eva

I was at work.

The Devil

Unacceptable. Get me those files.

“Who’s the devil?” Each text I scrolled through was like a knife in my gut. I’d thought the way she looked at me meant something. She’d been playing us all along, playingme. Was this why she’d hooked up with me at the party? “Who are you sending this to?”

“Please.” She tried to twist away, but I caught her hip, pinning her in place. The soft curves I’d dreamed about felt too good under my fingers, even now, after her betrayal. “Please don’t do this.”

“Stop. Making. Me. Repeat. Myself.” I punctuated each word by pressing closer. She felt small like this, fragile. I hated myself for how much I wanted her, even now.

“I have to.” The words spilled out of her. “My father, he—” She pressed her lips together so hard they went white, but her whole body shook. That perfect control she always maintained was shattering, piece by piece.

“Your father what?”

“He owes money.” Her eyes flicked to the door, as if looking for an escape, then back to my face. “A lotof money.”

“To whom?”