Page 12 of How to Kill Your Rival

I come in from the right while Eliza closes in on the left, and Martin turns towards me, instinctively turning to the threat he thinks is bigger. The man. Obviously.

Eliza is on him before he can say a thing, her knife tearing a new opening into his throat. He drops dead before I even raise my knife.

She straightens up and wipes her hands off on the damp grass, her chin up with satisfaction. There’s colour in her cheeks and hot breath clouding in the morning air.

‘I think that’s a pretty conclusive win.’

‘Agreed.’

Eliza leans against the bark of a tree and runs the back of her hand over her forehead.

She is the most infuriatingly amazing person I have ever met. So capable. So fiery. Yet so closed off.

She starts talking but I lose her words, mesmerised by the movement of her lips. Does she kiss with as much intensity as she does everything else?

Stepping forward, I close the distance.

She watches me with those big eyes, her chin tilting up a touch as I face her. There’s nothing between us but cold air and room for a ping pong ball at most. Her breath flutters over my mouth, and I clench my fist.

The urge to taste her lips is overwhelming, my heartbeat thunderous in my throat. God, I’ve wanted it for so long. Through every snarky word and competition.

I hesitate too long and let fear of rejection win, stepping back and running a hand through my damp hair.

‘You did it again,’ she says.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You’ve had a thousand opportunities to kiss me and you always stop. You keep waiting for permission. From me.’ She closes the space between us. ‘I will never give in first. So if you want me⁠—’

Her eyes drop to my mouth long enough that I gulp.

‘—stop being a pussy and take me.’

She shoves me, turns and walks into the trees.

My feet are frozen to the spot as I analyse her words. Take me.

I shoot after her at lightning speed, my blood rushing. She hears me coming and runs, laughing, dodging left between two trees and jumping a fallen trunk without breaking her stride. She’s so quick. And she knows these woods better than I do. Ducking under a branch, I cut right across a steep slope where the leaves are wet and treacherous.

I listen for her coming, but can’t hear her. Doubling back, I try to figure out where she’d gone. Her trajectory should have landed her right here.

A thump behind me has me whipping around right as she drops from a tree, landing in the mulch.

I spin and grab her arm. She tries to break my grip the way she usually does, but this time, I don’t let her go.

I don’t stop.

I don’t hesitate.

I trip her up roughly, and we go down together.

The noise she makes is part rage and part desire. Leaning over her, pinning her beneath me, I take in the tangle of her red hair among the leaves. The glint in her eyes. The way her breath catches when she looks up at me.

I kiss her.

Not sweetly or softly, but with all the pent-up tension I’ve been carrying for years. I’m not ready for how tender she feels beneath me. Eliza has spent so long being so hard that feeling her give in to me is a heady drug. My tongue sweeps hers as her hands drift into my hair, tugging my head back to kiss me deeper.

The sound I make in her mouth has my cheeks flaming.