by K. A. Linde
“If everything is you, then of course. You’re my brother. I love you. No matter who you choose to date. Who you fuck doesn’t affect me in the slightest.”
Derek rolled his eyes.
“Just like it doesn’t affect you who I fuck.”
“Ugh, bad mental image,” Derek groaned.
“Sorry about that.”
“You know…this isn’t how I planned to come out,” Derek told her, running a hand back through his hair.
“Well, I think you did all right,” Stacia said with a smile. “You’re going to have to bring Jordan to LV State before school starts though, so I can meet him.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Derek said as Stacia walked to the bathroom. “Hey, S?”
“Yeah?”
“You effectively dodged the conversation, but are you going to be okay about Madison?”
Stacia placed her hand on the doorframe and sighed. “I really don’t know.”
“Do you still like Pace? Is that why you’re holding on?”
Her mind shot to Pace. His hulking form with the dark blond hair and those piercing eyes. The way he always seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. The way he was in bed. Fuck, he was amazing. The way it was so easy to be around him and forget the rest of the world.
But bad always came with the good. She couldn’t deny that he’d wrecked her life on multiple occasions, and she’d gone back for seconds, like the kid eating chocolate cake in Matilda.
The truth was…the cons outweighed the pros most days. And, unless that changed, she couldn’t really even say she liked Pace. Not as a person. Then again…she hadn’t liked herself much either. So, something needed to change.
“No,” she finally said, “I don’t like him.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I just thought I loved him at the time,” she whispered before disappearing into the bathroom for her much-needed shower.
JOURNALISM CLASSES WERE a hell of a lot harder than Stacia had anticipated.
She’d spent all summer working her ass off, trying to get As in her two introductory classes. And she was pretty sure it was a futile endeavor. She had never been an all-A student in her life, and she doubted it would just start happening now. But it didn’t stop her from trying.
While her friends were off gallivanting around Europe or opening a designer-clothing boutique in New York City before following her rock-star boyfriend around on tour, Stacia had moved into a shitty apartment and was stuck in the library every night. She didn’t go out to Posse. She avoided the training facilities for the football team. She hardly even went home to her hellish one-bedroom apartment in the slums, except to shower, change clothes, and then return to the library.
On top of that, she’d been working on her admission essay to get into her major, and they were due in a week, on the day of her last final.
All of that studying had had one positive side effect; she hadn’t seen Pace Larson once.
And she wanted to keep it that way.
Sliding her essay away from her, she stretched and pulled up Snapchat to live vicariously through her best friends’ lives. She had just finished watching a video of Bryna and Eric at the top of the Eiffel Tower when a text message from Derek flashed on the screen.
Jordan just got back into town. I have the next two days off. You still want to meet him?
Stacia’s reply was instantaneous.
Yes!!!
Be there in a few hours then.
Stacia jumped up and twirled around with excitement. Then, realization rocked through her. This was her last weekend before her finals, and her journalism essay was due. She needed every minute to prepare. Anxiety spiked through her so fiercely that she had a sudden flashback to high school when the cheer captain, Paris Waters, had convinced the rest of the squad to leave Stacia behind at an away game, and she’d been too humiliated to call her dad to get home.
She pushed that particular horrid memory out of her mind and forced herself to relax. She could do it all. Bryna and Trihn did it all and made it look effortless. She would just have to double down next week. Her essay was pretty much done. She could do this.
And, a few hours later, when Derek and Jordan arrived at her front door step, Stacia had completely transformed. Any trace of anxiety was gone. She had finally unboxed the rest of her belongings from when she had moved in six weeks earlier, and she had donned a pretty spectacular cerulean dress to wear out tonight.
A tentative knock came from the door, and she threw it open.
“Derek!”
“Hey,” Derek said, looking worried. He glanced backward.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Where the hell are you living?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s fine,” she lied.
He shook his head. “It looks like you’re going to get shot while walking out your front door.”
“Seriously, it’s no big deal. Where is this boyfriend?” she asked, teetering from one foot to the other on her high heels that still didn’t bring her up to her brother’s shoulders.
“He’s just grabbing his bag.”
At that, Jordan strode up to Stacia’s apartment. He appeared every bit the opposite of Stacia’s brother—average height with a slim build, styled dark hair, and close-cut clothes. Even his bag was a trendy duffel rather than Derek’s backpack, likely filled with rumpled clothes. She hadn’t seen her brother in much else in her entire life.
“Hi!” Stacia cried.
“Hey, Stacia! I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Jordan.” He held his hand out, and she shook it. At the last second, he pulled her in for a hug. “Sorry, I’m kind of a hugger.”
“I love it. I’ve heard a lot about you, too. So excited to finally meet you.”
“Me, too,” Jordan said, beaming.
“Come on inside. Make yourself at home.” Stacia let the boys pass her and enter the apartment.
“There isn’t much home here, is there?” Derek asked.
“Give it a rest, Derek,” Jordan said. He placed his hand on Derek’s arm and smiled. “We’re here for some fun and to get away.”
“All right,” he grumbled.
Stacia smirked and showed the boys to her bedroom where she had decided to let them stay for the weekend. She’d be crashing on the couch, which was not her favorite thing in the world but whatever. She was glad, at least, that the couch belonged to her. Otherwise, she would have been screwed right now.
The boys freshened up in record time, and then they called an Uber to take them to Posse. It had been weeks since Stacia had been out, and as nervous as she had been about being busy this weekend, she was desperate to cut loose.
Stacia, Derek, and Jordan walked right into the popular nightclub. The summer months weren’t as packed as during the school year. Unlike the rest of Las Vegas, this was Posse’s downtime. Sure, plenty of tourists would venture off the Strip to visit the club everyone was talking about but not enough for it to look like a football Saturday.
It was weird, walking in and knowing that her friends weren’t waiting or that Maya wasn’t manning the bar. Luckily, Tuck seemed to have stayed for the summer, and Stacia immediately flagged him down.
“Fruity drink for the cheer slut,” he mumbled under his breath, as if reciting Maya’s directives.
“Hey, Tuck!” she said. “This is my brother, Derek, and his…” Her eyes cut to Derek’s, as she was unsure of how he wanted to address Jordan. He wasn’t totally out yet, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“His friend, Jordan,” Jordan finished.
“A beer and a gin and tonic,” Derek ordered now that they had gotten past the first hurdle.
Jordan turned his attention back to Stacia. “I love this place! Such a different vibe than Los Angeles. This is my first time in Las Vegas.”
“I didn’t know that!” Stacia said. “Oh God, we’re going to have to be tourists tomorrow, aren’t we?”
“If I can get past my h
angover,” Jordan said with a smile.
“Look what we have here,” a voice sounded behind them.
Stacia closed her eyes in exasperation.
One night. Just one night.
Just one night out without Pace was all she had asked for all summer, and she couldn’t even escape this for one goddamn night.
With a determined smile, she swung around. “Hey, Pace.”
“Hey, Pink,” he said with a wink.
“You remember Derek, right?” she asked, roughly grabbing Derek by the arm and dragging him in front of herself.
“Hey, man,” Derek said.
Pace nodded his head, and they shook hands. “Good to see you again.”
“Been a while.” Derek’s eyes darted to Stacia and back to Pace.
“Yep. How’s USC’s camp?” Pace said, immediately reverting to the one thing he knew they had in common—football.
It always came back to football. The most annoying part of the whole situation was that Derek and Pace had known each other—or at least of each other—before Stacia had ever met Pace. They had both spent summers in high school at Los Angeles-based football camps. A large set of guys went to camps, but when income and the quality of the players were factored in, the number would significantly diminish.
While they were having a good old time reminiscing and discussing the upcoming season, Stacia grabbed her fruity drink from Tuck and downed it as fast as she could before signaling for another. “Less sugar. More liquor.”
He grinned, which was a real treat from him, and then nodded. She knocked back a tequila shot and then reached for her next drink. Already, she was buzzing, but she knew that she needed to deal with Pace tonight.
“Hey, sugar,” a guy said, sliding up next to her at the bar.
She got a good look at him—tall, dark brown skin, and undeniably gorgeous—and she clearly did a poor job of hiding her surprise. “You’re TJ Boomer.”
He laughed. “A girl who knows her football.”
“Well, yeah, but also a girl who knows football players who got kicked off their starting team for doing steroids and stealing computers from the university,” she said with more force than she’d intended.
He shrugged easily. “Ancient history, sweetheart.”
“What the fuck are you doing in Las Vegas?”
“Didn’t you hear?” Pace asked, interjecting.
“No,” she said flatly.
“I just transferred,” Boomer said.
“Coach Galloway is going to let you play at LV State?” Her shock was blatant and intended this time.
“Best running back in the country,” Boomer boasted. He held out his long arms and cocked his head to the side, as if no one in the world could argue with him.
And he wasn’t far off. He was incredible. He could barrel through people as if they weren’t even there, trying to stop him. She’d seen him do one too many unbelievable breakaways and hurdles, so she couldn’t completely discredit him, but still, she found it hard to believe he was here.
His indiscretions were legendary. And everything she had heard about his character was that he was a horrible, horrible individual who was completely self-interested. Not the kind of player Coach Galloway usually recruited.
“And since that’s all out of the way,” Boomer said, grabbing Stacia around the middle, “why don’t you and I go fuck?”
Pace and Derek were there in a second, breathing down Boomer’s neck and reaching for him.
“Watch it!” Derek cried.
“Get your hands off her,” Pace growled.
“Whoa there,” Boomer said with an interested smirk on his face. “I didn’t know she belonged to anyone. She didn’t have a label on her.”
“Um…I don’t belong to anyone,” Stacia said.
Jordan took her arm and pulled her back some. “Now is not the best time.”
“She does belong to someone, and you’ll go through me next time you touch her,” Pace threatened.
Boomer looked between Pace and Derek and then started laughing. “Chill, man. She’s just a hot piece of ass. No need for this.” He pointed his finger at Derek. “You’re Derek Palmer, right?”
“Yeah,” Derek said.
“Aren’t you in enemy territory?”
“That’s my sister.” Derek crossed his arms and straightened to his imposing height.
“Oh, I see. It’s all coming together for me,” Boomer said. His eyes landed back on Stacia, and they crawled over her body. “She’s the slut who Marshall Matthews just ditched and upgraded from.”
Both guys bucked up like they were going to fight Boomer right then and there.
Stacia broke free from Jordan and got between them. “Testosterone show over. Get back to your regularly scheduled programs.” She glanced at Boomer with disgust. “Clearly, the rumors were true about you. How disappointing.”
“I don’t hide who I am,” Boomer said. “You should look into it, sweetness. We’d have a lot of fucking fun.”
“Not in a million years.”
“Don’t say something you’ll come to regret,” he said.
As she dragged the boys away from Boomer, his laugh followed them the whole way, grating on their last nerves.
“Can we just forget that happened and try to have a good time for the rest of the night?” Stacia asked with an irritated sigh. “Christ, I left my drink.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to work with him all season,” Pace growled, pacing in frustration. “Coach wants him to fucking start, and I’m going insane from being in his presence for a few minutes.”
“Start?” Stacia gasped.
“Yeah, baby, I’m starting. All your dreams have come true.”
Pace eyed Stacia with interest, and she quickly averted her eyes. There was no way that was happening either.
“You don’t know anything about my dreams.”
“Beg to differ.”
“Okay, let’s all stop before I vomit,” Derek said.
“Seriously,” Jordan said. “Maybe shots, and everyone can explain to me what just happened. I do not football well.”
Stacia shook her head. “It was more boys being boys anyway. One thing is for certain; I need another fucking drink.”
Derek went with Jordan back to the bar to get them shots, which left Stacia alone with Pace. He took a step forward, and she stopped breathing for a second, as his nearness affected her. God, she wished he wasn’t capable of that.
“I don’t give a shit that he’s on the team. If he puts one finger on you, I’ll break every bone in his body,” he told her with total confidence.
His face was so serious and stern that there was nothing she could do but nod. “I believe you would. It’s not the first time you’ve beaten someone up for doing one of us girls wrong.”
Pace shrugged. “No one fucks with the people I care about.”
Stacia assessed him for any sign of laughter or joking, but there was none. For a moment, she could almost remember why she had chosen Pace to begin with. And why she had gone back to him after he had lied to her about trying to ruin Bryna’s life. Because, even if he’d wanted to fuck up Bryna, he’d still beaten the shit out of Cam, the guy she had been dating who had used her to try to get sex.
Underneath the jerk exterior, Pace had a heart.
He just only showed it to her.
STACIA STUMBLED FORWARD A STEP, nearly falling into Pace, and when he reached out to steady her, she jumped backward. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
After the interruption from Boomer, the rest of the night had gone pretty smoothly, even with Pace hanging out with them. They’d danced and did shots and had fun getting to know Jordan. By the end of the night, Stacia was beyond drunk and she knew that it was time to go home, but she was having more fun than she’d had all summer and wasn’t ready to leave yet.
“Stacia, you are hammered drunk. I am just offering you a ride home,” Pace said.
“No. No way in fucking hell!” Stacia s
lurred.
Pace sighed. “You don’t need to take a cab when I have my truck waiting here.”
“You don’t have a truck,” she spat.
He leveled his gaze on her as she wobbled to stay upright. “It’s new.”
“I don’t fucking need your help. I can take care of myself. Derek and Jordan and I can get back just fine!”
Pace rested both of his hands on her shoulders.
She met his eyes while her head swam. “You’re fucking touching me again.”
“There are a million things I want to do to your body, but you aren’t coherent or in any place to consent to those things,” he growled low. “Just let me take you home.”
“Why would I do that?” she asked. “You’ve been drinking all night, too.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t had a drink in hours. I drove here and knew I’d have to drive back. It’ll be an easy trip.”
Stacia tugged away from him in frustration. This was not what she needed right now. All she needed was to get home and crash on her couch. None of these sexy-eyed, lust-induced pep talks about wanting to do a million things he had already done to her body. Just bed and probably water and Tylenol.
“Christ, why do you have to do this, Pace? Why do you insist on forcing yourself into my life?”
“I already told you why. You can’t escape me.” He made her face him and looked sincerely down into her hazy eyes. “You can keep trying to run, but we’ll end up back together.”
“No chance in hell. You slept with Madison!” Even in her addled state, she knew that she wouldn’t have said that sober, and she wished she could take it back. Luckily, she was drunk enough not to be entirely ashamed and waited for his reply.
“I was waiting for you to bring that up. And, now that it’s out in the open, we can move on.”
“Move on?” she nearly screamed. “You don’t just get over that.”
“Well, actually, I did.”
Stacia slapped him across the face. It wasn’t very hard, but his head snapped to the side anyway. He fumed with anger at her attitude. She could see him warring with what to do and how to react.
Slowly, he turned back to her. “Let’s do this another time, so I can fuck you after that slap, okay?”