Of all the people who could’ve subbed in for the injured Green player, it had to be him. Rafael Pessoa. My ex-boyfriend. Asher and Vincent’s heads snapped toward him like lions sensing prey. Their bodies went rigid, and identical shadows darkened their faces. Oh, no. Oh nononono. “This is not good,” Carina said. “This is not good at all.” Brooklyn’s brow puckered. She didn’t know about Rafael, so she had no clue why we were freaking out. “Why? What’s wrong?” “Well.” My mouth tasted like pennies. “I think you’re going to get that fight you were hoping for.”
