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Thirty Eight

作者: Lovely
last update publish date: 2026-06-17 08:30:34

AUTHOR'S POV

Watching the heavy metal door begin to close, the reality of Athena’s utter indifference finally pierced Luca’s ego. The hurt instantly curdled into hot, blinding anger. She didn't get to just walk away from him. She didn't get to look at him with pure pity and go back to a guy who was currently stealing his championship spotlight.

Lunging forward, Luca caught the edge of the door with his left hand and grabbed Athena’s upper arm with his right, forcefully jerking her backward into
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  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Seven

    JEREMIAHThe rhythmic, high-pitched beep of the heart monitor was the only thing standing between me and a murder charge.Morning sunlight slammed hard against the plastic window blinds of the UCLA Medical Center intensive care unit. The harsh glare cut across the sterile white linoleum, highlighting the chaotic tangle of clear IV tubes snaking across the hospital bed.My primary objective was keeping my anger contained enough to stay in this room.Athena lay completely motionless under a massive, inflating plastic Bair Hugger blanket. A machine hissed violently in the corner, pumping continuously warmed air over her frozen body. Her skin had lost the terrifying blue tint from the arena, replaced by a sickening, translucent pale white."Like I told the triage nurse, son."The voice scraped like rusty metal.Detective Vance leaned against the heavy wooden doorframe of room 412. He wore a rumpled tan suit smelling heavily of stale coffee and stale cigarette smoke. He didn't even bother

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Six

    ATHENAFrost coated my eyelashes, sealing them together with heavy, frozen crusts.My only goal right now was surviving the next sixty seconds. The Los Angeles night outside was supposed to be warm, but inside the Ashford arena, the industrial HVAC system roared like a jet engine. Sub-zero air blasted directly from the overhead vents, chewing through my thin jacket and biting directly into my bones.Dragging my body across the dark rubber matting, the friction scraped the skin completely off my knees. I needed shelter. The open hallway was a wind tunnel of freezing death.Hitting the wooden edge of the home team penalty box, I hauled my dead weight over the low bench.Curling into a tight ball on the floorboards, violent, uncontrollable shivers wrecked my entire body. My teeth cracked against each other. The darkness swallowed everything, broken only by the tiny, useless green standby lights on the overhead jumbotron.Clack. Clack. Clack.The sharp sound of hard-soled dress shoes hitt

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Five

    JEREMIAHI ripped the athletic tape cleanly off the roll, the sharp sound echoing off the concrete walls.Sitting in the corner stall of the Ashford locker room, I wrapped the blade of my composite stick. The room smelled of fresh sweat, floor wax, and intense, quiet focus. Friday’s qualifier was barely forty-eight hours away. My singular goal was keeping this roster completely insulated from the academic warfare currently trying to swallow our coach whole."Carter," I called out, tossing a spare roll of black tape across the room. "Your gap control on the penalty kill is sloppy. Close the neutral zone faster today."Catching the tape one-handed, Carter nodded. "Got it, Captain. Sub-three second transitions. Coach Cole will run us until we vomit if we miss the mark again."A heavy, metallic thud echoed from the entrance.The double doors swung open, hitting the rubber stops with enough force to rattle the hinges.Three men walked into the locker room.Arthur Ashford led the pack. Wear

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Four

    ATHENAWe'd fucked for hours. My pussy was still sore.And now, lying in the center of the bed, the heavy duvet draped over our bare legs. The digital clock on the nightstand glared a harsh red: 3:14 AMMy head rested on Jeremiah’s chest. His heartbeat pulsed steadily against my cheek, a slow, grounding rhythm. His arm wrapped tightly around my waist, keeping me flush against his side even in sleep. Total, utter exhaustion pulled at my eyelids. For the first time all week, the anxiety vibrating in my ribs vanished.BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.A piercing, high-decibel shriek violently shattered the quiet.I jolted upright, my heart instantly slamming into my throat. "What is that?""The perimeter alarm." Jeremiah rolled out of bed with terrifying, immediate speed. The sleepy lover vanished, entirely replaced by the lethal protector. "Someone breached the back patio gate."The keypad in the hallway continued its deafening, rhythmic screaming.Jeremiah shoved his legs into a pair of gray sweatp

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Three

    ATHENAStaring at the boy who used to be my entire world, the leftover adrenaline from the dance floor instantly curdled into pure, venomous disgust. The neon pink lights of the hallway cast harsh, ugly shadows across his face.Jeremiah shifted his weight. The muscles in his arm coiled like thick steel cable. He didn't speak, but his massive frame angled forward, completely ready to tear Luca apart with his bare hands.Reaching back, I pressed my hand flat against Jeremiah’s chest. *Stand down.*"You are bargaining with a felony, Luca," I stated, keeping my voice entirely dead and flat."I’m offering you a lifeline," Luca corrected, stepping closer. The smell of cheap tequila radiated off his crimson Westmore jacket. "Sienna paid a TA to plant that midterm. She set the trap, not me. I have the text messages on a burner phone. I can hand them to Dean Hayes tomorrow morning and clear your name entirely.""And the price is me.""The price is us going back to the way things were," he insi

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Fifty Two

    ATHENAHeavy bass vibrated through the floorboards, rattling the soles of my boots.The Bruce mansion sprawled across the edge of a Hollywood Hills cliff, a massive monument to excess. Neon lights bathed the crowded living room in harsh shades of magenta and electric blue. The air tasted incredibly thick, choked with the smell of cheap beer, marijuana smoke, and cloying, expensive perfume.Hundreds of bodies crushed together. Shouting voices competed with the deafening rap music blasting from ceiling-mounted speakers.Standing near the massive marble kitchen island, I held a red plastic cup filled with lukewarm water.Tessa leaned against the counter next to me, wearing a tight black dress, her eyes scanning the chaotic room like a sniper."Okay, the hostility in this room is literally tangible," Tessa shouted over the music. "I’ve counted at least twelve Westmore hockey players glaring at us since we walked through the door.""Let them glare." I took a sip of the water. "We aren't he

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Twenty Seven

    ATHENAExiting the brutalist architecture of the humanities building, the humid air hit my face like a hot, wet towel. The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the concrete walkways, reflecting a harsh, blinding glare off the massive windows of the student center. Scanning the crowded plaza for Tes

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Twenty Six

    ATHENAThe heavy, lingering silence from the morning's explosive fight with Jeremiah suffocated my Westwood apartment. Pacing a tight circle across the worn rug in the living room, the friction between my tightly clenched jaw muscles hadn't eased a single fraction all day. The orange hue of the set

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Twenty Four

    ATHENAHe didn't stop. He sped up his fingers, pumping faster, adding a third finger now, stretching me wider, filling me deeper. The stretch bordered on pain, but it melted into pleasure, my walls clenching around his invading digits. He twisted his wrist, driving them in at a different angle, and

  • Rejected by my team, Claimed by the Rival   Twenty Two

    The harsh morning sun bled through the cheap horizontal blinds of my Westwood apartment, casting sharp, orange lines across the scuffed hardwood floor. I sat on the edge of the mattress wearing an oversized, faded UCLA vintage tee and a pair of gray boyshorts. My eyes locked onto a water stain on th

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