Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 23
High school footballgames are a teenage rite of passage, whether it’s Friday night lights or a Saturday afternoon playoff game like today—though the games are infinitely more enjoyable when we get to watch from the stands instead of one of the few luxury boxes near the press box.
It’s not at all uncommon for my family or Duke’s to attend a BA Knights football game, but unlike any they’ve attended during the regular season, our presence has been requested to put in some face time with the ’rents.
This whole day would be better if I wasn’t battling with myself over asking Duke for details of his “date” with Savvy last night. For the sake of our friendship, we’ve agreed to avoid the topic of the girl who should be mine but the world thinks is his. Intellectually, I know what they have isn’t real, but I’m not feeling all that intellectual these days. Barbaric and controlled by my baser instincts is more like it.
Midas and the guys are driving downfield toward the end zone by the time Duke and I can no longer put off making an appearance. I shouldn’t have come today. The more stairs we ascend, the clearer this becomes. I’m antsy and edgy, and if I don’t find a way to expel some of this destructive energy, I’m at risk of doing something I can’t take back.
We make it to the glossy gray door with the small gold plaque that tells us we’ve reached our destination. Duke reaches for the handle but pauses to glance my way before turning it. “You straight?”
I nod but don’t say anything. I hate the guilt that coils in my gut at his need to check in. Bro is a better man than I. While he worries about me, all I can think about is the quickest way to get his fiancée naked and writhing under me.
We enter the box and are immediately enveloped in hugs from our moms. Unfortunately, Natalie St. James is with them, her disdain for me hidden beneath a sugary sweet smile.
“Really, Mom?” Duke rolls his eyes at the various pictures of floral arrangements and wedding ideas displayed on her phone’s screen. “Addicted,” he whispers, referring to her Pinterest page, then places a kiss on the crown of her head.
The sight of planning for a wedding that isn’t supposed to happen until years from now has knots forming between my shoulder blades and shooting down my spine.
Before I say something I can’t take back or that will expose me in front of my father, I jerk a chin toward where the man himself sits in one of the leather seats overlooking the football field below.
Handshakes are exchanged, and we settle in just as BA scores a touchdown. The crowd cheers and the fight song is played from the loudspeaker before the buoyant mood is wrecked with one comment from dear ol’ Dad.
“It’s too bad Savvy couldn’t join us today. It would have been a great opportunity to get some candid shots to use of her and Duke for their social media.”
Duke gives an Elvis lip curl as he shifts his phone side to side. He’s bitched more than his fair share about the pressure to up his public profile to fall in line with the family-friendly storybook romance image Dad wants them to project.
“Does it earn us any points that she is at a football game too?” Duke asks, barely keeping his sarcasm in check.
Dad’s mouth presses into a flat line, unimpressed. The answer is no; it doesn’t earn any points that Savvy is at BP’s playoff game. In his mind, her cheering for her old school is playing for the wrong team. If you were wondering who I inherited the control freak gene from, it was one Walter Noble. The fact that Savvy doesn’t fall in line with his plans has to drive him crazy.
“I hope you stressed the importance of her attending your game next week,” Dad comments.
A thrill rolls through me, followed quickly by a sense of dread at the idea of Savvy watching me play. The former stems from a basic caveman posturing of showing off exactly what I’m capable of doing. She may be friends with Lance Bennett, but hockey is the one area in my life I know her precious Royals can’t touch me. Though I should probably heed the latter more given how poorly I’ve been performing in practice these last few days.
The majority of the game passes by in a blur. By the time it’s over, it feels like I might permanently have a chunk of my cheek missing from biting it, but I had no other option. The one time I contributed to the conversation, Dad nearly ripped my head off. I get that he wants me to keep my distance from Savvy, but pretending we don’t interact daily is unreasonable.
The moment the game is over—the Knights falling to the Chiefs by a field goal—I’m out of my seat and saying my goodbyes. I’m a mass of banked adrenaline from restraining myself and holding my tongue for hours. I need an outlet for this explosive energy, and I need it now.
Two days. I have to wait two fucking days before I see Savvy again, and the kicker is when I do, I have to pretend we’re nothing more than friends, pretend I don’t know what it feels like to be buried balls-deep inside her or how perfectly her pussy strangles my cock. I have to act like hearing her say Duke’s name isn’t like taking a dagger to the gut when she vehemently refuses to say mine.
The worst thing is, without being able to outright claim her as mine, it feels like my hands are tied when it comes to protecting her. She would probably scoff and tell me she doesn’t need my protection, but that’s the crux of it.
I love Duke dearly. He’s my un-biological brother, my ride or die, but he’s not seeing what I’m seeing. He may be the one spending most of his time with Savvy, but their interactions are surface level. He’s not seeing beneath her tough-girl exterior.
Savvy isn’t the type who needs saving. I saw it every day she challenged me at school but didn’t truly understand it until the day I drove her to BP for Tessa. It wasn’t until after learning of her Royal connection that other little things started to fall into place.
While Savvy’s built tough, she’s also been the treasured jewel of the Royalty Crew. I get the impression it’s why she feels the need to prove she can handle the world on her own. I don’t want to slay her dragons for her; I want to be by her side while she does. It’s because she doesn’t need me that I want her more.
That being said, it doesn’t mean I won’t help behind the scenes—especially knowing someone is attempting to threaten her.
The sight of long brown hair drives that point home, and I pick up my pace. As soon as I clear the bottom step leading to the bleachers, I yank Arabella beneath them and pin her to the scaffolding with a hand wrapped around her throat.
“I knew you missed me,” she purrs, dragging a finger down the center of my chest.
Bitch is delusional and has zero sense of self-preservation. This isn’t a lead-in to a kinky fuck. There’s no want or desire as I glare down at her. Pure menace pulses off of me as I squeeze hard enough to cut off the last of her air supply. Finally, there’s a widening of her eyes as panic starts to override the misplaced lust.
“You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.” The only thing harder than my voice is my grip. “Now, let’s get a few things straight.”
I feel Duke move behind me so he’s at my back, hovering should I need him but not interfering.
Arabella blinks rapidly, her eyelash extensions fluttering with the action. Her eyes rise to the space above my shoulder, and there’s no missing the plea for help she directs at Duke. Too bad it’s a wasted effort.
“You and I will never happen again, but you knew that already.” She licks her lips, and beneath my hand, her throat works with a swallow. “Now for the important part.” I push up on her jaw, forcing her head to fall to what is probably an uncomfortable angle, not that I care. “You will leave Savvy alone.”
“Wh-why are you the one warning me off?” She coughs, hands coming up to clutch at my arm, but I don’t loosen my hold.
The funny thing is if it weren’t me, if I decided to sit back and let Savvy handle things, it would be a lot less pleasant for Arabella.
“Shouldn’t it be her fiancé coming to her rescue?” She clucks her tongue, and red tinges the edges of my vision. “Or does the fact that she bounces on both your dicks mean the white knight treatment is interchangeable?”
“The fuck you just say to me?” I squeeze harder, Arabella’s face flushing with color as her body starts to thrash against me. Gone is any sensible thought. It isn’t until Duke lays his hand over mine that I let her go.
Arabella instantly falls to her knees, hand clutching at the front of her throat as she releases a series of hacking coughs. It doesn’t faze me, nor do the tears streaming down her face, cutting wavy tracks in her makeup.
It’s safe to say with Duke and Savvy being engaged, most people will assume they are having sex, but they haven’t done more than kiss on the cheek, and even those are rare.
It’s the assumption that I’m fucking Savvy that has blind rage making me step forward. The last time Arabella and I had any sort of a conversation, she commented about my lack of fucking Savvy. What has her thinking differently now? Unless…
Before I can move in and actually put Arabella down like the bitch she is, Duke steps between us, posture rigid.
“Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Arabella.” It’s a canned proverb, but there’s no missing the way she trembles at his dark tone.
“It’s amazing what you can see when not hidden behind tinted glass though.” She rises to stand, brushing off the dirt staining the knees of her designer jeans and leveling us with her Queen B icy glare. That just won’t do.
Moving so I’m standing shoulder to shoulder with Duke, I fold my arms across my chest and glower until Arabella shrinks back, her own shoulders folding in.
“In case you haven’t noticed…things have shifted at BA.” She has, I know she has. I get that she doesn’t like that it comes at the cost of her power, but that’s not my problem. She’s nothing more than basic. “Right now, you’re still recognized in the social hierarchy…but if you keep coming for Savvy, I won’t stop until you’re nothing more than an inconsequential stain inside the BA yearbook.”
She gasps, and again I see the how-dare-you swimming behind her eyes.
I don’t have definitive proof yet, but Arabella has my suspicions raised based on a few things she’s said. I’m done with people testing me and trying to have a say in my life. It’s time they all learn just how ruthless I can be.