Rivals
LORENZ
“I really hate that bastard,” I gritted under my breath as I tossed the ball into the basket. “How could he be so cocky?”
Bruno frowned. “I really don't like him.” He bent and picked up the ball I'd just tossed into the basket. “He thinks he's all that just because he's the captain.”
I gritted my teeth at the reminder of his post. I'd worked my butt off just for the former captain to choose that damned bastard. I didn't doubt he played unfairly because, by merit, I was supposed to be the captain, not him. I have the highest goals ever.
I caught the ball when Bruno tossed it to me. “I should have shoved him hard when he took the ball from me.” I jumped and tossed the ball into the basket once more.
Bruno caught it this time before it could fall on the floor. Straightening, he ran his fingers through his blonde hair and his eyes sparkled. “It would have been a damned sight to behold. That —”
The door to our basketball court opened, and the infuriating Alpha whom we were talking about stepped in, looking like he owned the damned place.
Günther's eyes immediately landed on me, and he smiled. I gritted my teeth in annoyance, and he smirked.
Fuck him.
Günther crossed the court with that lazy, predatory stride of his that I hated more than anything else. His minion, Anton, trailed behind him like a shadow. They were just the same, bastards cut from the same cloth.
“Practising without me?” He smirked. “That’s cute, Jan.”
I caught the ball Bruno tossed back to me and held it at my hip. “Last I checked, this court doesn’t have your name on it, captain.” I made sure to draw out the last word.
Günther’s smirk widened. He stopped just inside the three-point line. “It might as well.” He tilted his head and dragged his gaze over my body. “Everything else here is mine.”
Bruno growled, and I just waved for him to hold it down. I appreciated the loyalty, but we both knew challenging Günther Niklas Torben in his territory was suicide. The Torben name carried weight, and the cocky Torben heir carried a hell of a lot more. Besides, he was a fucking S-class dominant Alpha. Bruno was no match for him.
I bounced the ball. “You want to run a play, Torben? Or are you just here to measure dicks? Because I’m pretty sure I’d win that too.”
Anton snorted, but Günther didn’t. He smirked, folding his arms as his gaze ran over my body once more. “One on one,” he said at last.
“What?”
“One on one.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to Anton, leaving only the black tight Tee he was putting on underneath. “You and me. First to ten.”
Bruno stepped closer to me. “Lorenz, don’t agree to this. He’s baiting you.”
I knew he was, but I couldn't back down because that would only make him feel like he owned the entire world.
“Fine,” I agreed. “Loser scrubs the winner’s gear for a week.”
Günther’s smile widened some more. “Deal.”
Bruno backed off, taking Anton with him to the sidelines.
I checked the ball by throwing it hard on his chest. He caught it without flinching and smirked. “Your ball,” he said, and tossed it back.
We started the game as soon as Anton blew the whistle. I drove left, spun past him and laid it up clean. He answered with a fadeaway that barely kissed the rim before dropping in. We went back and forth, harder than we had ever played because it was obvious none of us wanted to lose. Sweat prickled at my hairline and my shirt stuck to my spine.
I almost had him at eight-six until I made the mistake of driving hard to the basket and going for the finish that would end it. He grabbed my waist to block my lane, but the force he used knocked me off balance. I stumbled, and the ball slipped from my hand as we went down.
I hit the floor first, and Günther landed on top of me.
For a second, the entire gym went silent. His arm had shot out to catch himself, caging me in with his palm flat beside my head.
“Foul,” I gritted out. “That was a fucking foul.” Why the fuck would he hold me that strongly?? I would have gotten the fucking ball into the basket if he hadn't played dirty.
He didn’t move. He was breathing hard with his face inches from my neck.
“Günther,” I snapped, trying to shove up. “Get the hell off me.”
He didn’t do that immediately. His hand, which was beside my head, curled into a fist against the hardwood.
I felt his chest expand as he inhaled, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough in a way I’d never heard before.
“Yeah,” he murmured, almost too quiet for me to catch. “It was a foul.” Then he pushed himself up and offered me a hand. "Let me help you up."
I slapped his offered hand away and got up. Glaring at the bastard, I grabbed the ball. “Let's go again.”
He shook his head. “There's no need for that. You already won,” he muttered, and my brows shot up at that.
I blinked. “I… I won?”
He nodded and started walking towards Anton. “You can have the baseball court to yourself.”
Frowning, I watched him return to Anton's side as I tried to understand what the hell had just happened. Why did he give up?
Bruno ran to my side. “What's wrong with him?” He whispered.
“I'll clean your gear for a week!” Günther shouted, turned, and winked. “That's the least I could do for losing.”
I folded my arms and said nothing as he walked out with Anton, and the door closed behind them.
“What the hell just happened?” I muttered, stunned by the turn of events. The Günther I knew had never admitted defeat even when it was obvious.
I couldn't help but wonder what the hell he had up his sleeve.
