by Ashley Jade
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Honey, no.” Her pretty face scrunches. “I don’t have friends. At best, I have temporary allies who don’t make me want to bash their skulls in with my heels.”
Slowly, she walks toward me. “Casey is the head of the cheerleading squad, and therefore thinks she runs RHA, but she doesn’t.” Eyes narrowed; she studies her nails. “The twat also made the unfortunate mistake of texting someone who’s not my brother nonstop during practice last week. When I find out who it is and I have proof she can’t deny, I’m going to ruin her life.” A wicked grin lights her face. “Then I’m going to take her place…and make her and everyone at RHA my bitch.”
Well, shit.
She gets uncomfortably close to my face. “Word of advice? I suggest you stay on my good side.” She takes out her lip gloss for a second time. “And stay still. You could use a little color.”
Before I can protest, she starts applying some to my lips. “My brother is an asshole, but for some reason he’s fond of you.” Sticking the wand back inside the tube, she holds my stare. “I think you’d be good for him, Sawyer. But I should warn you, if you ever cheat or intentionally hurt him, I’ll slit your goddamn throat like you’re my very own sacrificial lamb. Understood?”
Jesus. “I—”
“Understood?”
When I nod, she smiles. “Great. Now quit talking to me and go get your man.”
My man? Bianca must be delusional. Girls like me don’t get our men…because they usually don’t want us.
They want girls like her.
But what if Cole isn’t like the rest of them? What if he actually likes me?
It sure as hell seemed like he did the other night.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Wait,” she calls out behind me.
“What—what the hell are you doing?” I try to swat her hand away, but she manages to undo the first button on my shirt. “You have great tits. You shouldn’t keep them covered all the time.” She does a once-over and makes a face. “Take that stupid headband off. It makes you look like a ten-year-old on school picture day.”
God grant me strength. She is such a brat.
After tossing it in the trash and running her fingers through my waist-length dark hair, she shrugs. “It’s not great, but it’s the best I can do on such short notice. You should seriously consider getting contacts…and some highlights. Wearing makeup wouldn’t hurt either.”
“I am wearing makeup.”
I put mascara on this morning. Because I knew I’d be talking to Cole.
Her nose wrinkles. “Next time try the kind that makes you look better, not worse.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Casting her an irritated glare, I walk out of the bathroom.
The nerves I was trying to stifle nearly burst out of my chest as I amble down the hall. However, I quickly come to my senses when I notice Cole’s still talking to his teammates.
Probably not the best time to declare my strange feelings or bring up our hookup.
It should be done in private. That way no one can eavesdrop and start more rumors.
I’m about to walk back to my locker, but his gaze catches mine.
My knees buckle as I take in his piercing hazel-green eyes, tousled dark hair, perfectly structured jawline, and cheekbones so razor-sharp they’d cut right through granite.
It’s not fair. Boys like him shouldn’t be so damn beautiful.
Self-doubt creeps in again, but I force myself to stuff it back down.
He likes me.
Sure, he didn’t call, but you don’t share the kind of things he did if you don’t feel a connection with someone.
And you definitely don’t kiss someone the way he kissed me if you’re not attracted to them.
Drunk or not, Cole gave me a glimpse of the real him that night.
Perhaps it’s time I silence the negative voice inside my head for good so it doesn’t ruin this thing between us before it even starts.
Because maybe, just maybe… a girl like me can get the guy.
COLE
I sense her the moment she walks out of the bathroom.
I’m not sure what she did in there, but those pouty heart-shaped lips are red and shiny.
I barely manage to suppress the groan of irritation lodged in my throat.
She’s trying to impress me. Which can only mean one thing.
Christ. My mistakes are piling up by the second.
I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk this weekend.
I shouldn’t have wandered upstairs.
And I most definitely shouldn’t have talked to Sawyer Church—Little Miss Bible Thumper—and let her see that side of me.
I grind my molars so hard I’m surprised they don’t turn to dust.
According to the rumors, there are a few more things I shouldn’t have done with her.
Things I have no recollection of because I blacked out mid-conversation.
Fuck.
Behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, her big brown eyes hold mine…seeking answers to a slew of unspoken questions.
Answers I can’t give her, because I don’t fucking remember.
All I know is whatever we may or may not have done that night is ruining her untainted, pristine reputation.
And mine.
Peeling my gaze away, I direct my attention back to Dwight and Cortland.
As usual, Cortland’s being his dickhead self. Beating around the bush in a pretentious mocking way that annoys the shit out of me.
“So, how was it?”
I stuff my blazer inside my locker. “How was what?”
I’ve been dealing with his stupid innuendos for the last five minutes and I’m reaching the end of my fuse.
He exchanges a glance with Dwight. “Come on, Covington. Don’t be shy. Tell us how your little hookup was.”
My hand clenches into a fist. I have to remind myself my arm will be worth millions one day, and Cortland isn’t worth shit.
“Bet a girl who looks like that was awfully desperate to please,” Lennox Wallace, one of my linebackers, chimes in.
A few of our teammates snicker.
Ignoring them, I swivel my gaze to the opposite end of the hall.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, Casey and her posse are marching toward me.
Bianca texted me earlier that Casey had told the girls on the team she was going to kick Sawyer’s ass if it was true.
Casey’s outrage over my drunken betrayal is almost comical given Bianca’s positive she’s cheating on me.
However, it’s just speculation and I don’t have proof.
All I have is a pissed off girlfriend who’s currently glaring daggers at me as her heels clack against the terrazzo floor.
And another girl who’s looking at me like I’m some kind of knight in shining armor.
The same girl I’ve forced myself to stay away from for the last three months.
Sawyer has a way of getting under my skin and inside my head like no one else…which makes her a hazard.
Even more so now.
There’s only one way to restore order and fix this shit.
I turn to Cortland. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. I’ve hooked up with a lot of girls.”
Way more than he has.
This time he’s the one who appears confused. “You really don’t remember?”
“Remember what?” I roar, drawing everyone’s attention to our conversation. “I was drunk as fuck on Friday.”
Sawyer’s steps falter.
Smiling snidely, Cortland looks around the small circle of people surrounding us. It appears everyone is interested in our little pow wow.
“Hate to break it to you, but rumor has it you fucked Sawyer Church at Christian’s over the weekend.” Before I can answer, he slaps my shoulder. “Never pegged you for a chubby chaser, but I hear Jesus freaks are wild in bed.”
My laugh sounds convincing, even to my own ears. “Y
ou’re shitting me, right?” Before he can protest, I seethe, “Why the hell would I ever fuck some fat virgin when I can have prime pussy whenever I want it?”
I feel the weight of everyone’s stare as Casey sidles up beside me. On cue, I sling an arm around her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Oakley looking at me like I’m a scumbag.
Whatever. He can kiss my ass. This is my reputation on the line.
And hers.
Not only will Sawyer be branded a slut—because that’s what girls in high school do—Casey and the rest of the cheerleaders will make her life a living hell.
Besides, Casey and I make sense. Us being together is what people expect.
What someone like me should want.
I’ve spent a long time building this life for myself and I’m not about to let some drunken mistake rip it all away.
No matter how much Sawyer intrigues me.
Looking at my girlfriend, I grunt, “Babe, tell this moron what happened on Friday since he’s so interested in where I stick my dick.”
Not missing a beat, Casey chirps, “You got trashed and then we went upstairs.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Why are you so interested in my boyfriend’s junk, Cortland? If you’re switching teams, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. My squad is already full.”
No matter how upset she is, I knew she’d step up to the plate.
Not because she loves me or she’s ride or die—but because we’ve been dubbed RHA’s power couple, and the notion of me cheating on her with someone like Sawyer is a huge insult to her vapid ego.
Just like me, Casey knows it’s important to keep up appearances and give the world a show.
Conceal who you really are.
Cortland looks embarrassed, but I’m not done with him.
Gripping his collar with my free hand, I fix him with a glare that makes it crystal clear not to cross me again. “Next time you give me the third degree about my sex life, I’ll slap your ugly mug with my cock. Just like I do to all the other uppity cumsluts who don’t know when to hop the fuck off.”
His face goes slack as everyone hoots and hollers.
Grinning, I lightly punch his shoulder. “Don’t come to practice until you find your balls, Bennet. Football is for real men. Not wannabes who run their mouth and spread rumors like some little pre-teen bitch.”
I look at my teammates. “Same goes for the rest of you.”
Respect illuminates their faces once more. Crisis averted.
Feeling like a weight has been lifted, my hand finds Casey’s ass and we start trekking down the hallway.
As usual, everyone’s eyes are on me.
Except Sawyer.
She’s peering down at her shoes…as if it hurts too much to look at me.
Good.
I warned her not to get too close.
Chapter 1
Sawyer
Two months later…
“Catherine’s getting married,” my mother all but squeals the second my ass meets the chair.
“Wow, that’s really…something, Mama. Can you pass the mashed potatoes?”
Truth be told, I’m way more excited about them than the news of my sister’s engagement.
From the other end of the dining table, my father’s lips quirk.
It’s safe to say I inherited my sarcasm gene from him.
My mother pouts. “Goodness, Sawyer. Catherine is your sister. You’d think you’d be able to muster up some enthusiasm.”
Pushing his glasses up his nose, my dad clears his throat. “Sawyer’s probably thinking the same thing I am. Catherine hasn’t even graduated college yet. She’s too young to get married.” Concern lines his features as he continues. “She’s only been dating him, what? Three, maybe four months at most, and during that time we’ve only met him once. They should wait a few more years before they settle down.”
My mom plasters a tight, bless your heart smile on her face. It’s one most southern women have perfected by the time they’re twelve.
“Catherine’s graduating nursing school this year, Dan. Besides, you think driven, intelligent doctors like Marvin are going to wait forever for a girl to be ready for marriage?”
Here we go.
On the bright side, this is the most they’ve spoken to each other in a long time.
“If he loves her, he will.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t want to argue, but I don’t want my baby girl—either of them—making a mistake and marrying the wrong man.”
She sighs. “Oh, please. I was barely eighteen when we got married.”
“Yeah and look how well that turned out.” The expression on his face makes it clear he wants to take the words back. “I didn’t—”
Freezing him out, she fluffs her dark hair and directs her attention to me. “She wants to have the wedding in Knightdale.”
Something tells me that’s more my mom’s idea than Catherine’s. North Carolina’s most legendary pageant queen is no doubt chomping at the bit to show off to everyone back home that her equally beautiful pageant-daughter-turned-nurse is marrying a doctor.
However, the location is something I can get on board with.
It’s been three years since we left our hometown and a small part of me misses the simplicity of it.
“Great.” I shove a forkful of food into my mouth and swallow. “Let me know when she figures out the date and I’ll make sure to take off work.”
I reach for the bowl of mashed potatoes to give myself a second helping, but she moves them out of my reach. “Third weekend of March.”
“Well, seeing as I’m giving him over a year notice, Mr. Gonzales shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Then again, he might.
Lord knows my boss can be…difficult. As in—the man is downright certifiable. He also makes the best chicken in town though, so most people turn the other cheek.
“Not next March, silly,” my mom corrects. “This March.”
My dad chokes on his drink. “That’s less than six months away. Why so soon?”
“It’s Catherine’s spring break.”
“Doesn’t that seem like a lot?”
When her eyes sharpen, I add. “It’s just, she’s in her final year of nursing school. Those exams she has to take at the end are no joke. Having a wedding during the last semester of college seems kind of—”
“Crazy,” my father interjects. “Sawyer’s right, Jolene. This is too much. She’s gonna run herself into the ground planning this dang wedding, when she needs to be focusing on passing her classes. Classes that are costing this family an arm and a leg and putting us in the poorhouse.”
True dat. We’re no longer stretching every dime we have…we’re starting to stretch dimes we don’t.
According to the phone conversation I eavesdropped on the other night, my parents’ credit cards are almost maxed out.
I hope for Catherine’s sake Marvin comes from a rich family and is offering to throw down, because I honestly have no idea how they’re going to pay for this wedding.
It’s yet another reason why it’s so important I get a full ride to college.
Not only will my uncle and grandfather’s church suffer when I go off next year because my mom will have to take care of the fundraising and donations all by herself—something she’s admittedly not very good at—but my parents will suffer too.
I don’t want that for them.
My mom tosses her napkin onto her dish. “Catherine has a B average. She’s doing just fine. Besides, I doubt she’ll have to work once they have babies. Marvin really loves—”
“Loves her so much he didn’t have the decency to ask me for her hand in marriage?”
Oh, shit.
Usually my dad is docile and laid back, but like all good fathers, his daughters are his world and have the ability to make him go from zero to sixty.
Marvin not asking for permission before he proposed would be considered an insult to most southern daddies.
&nb
sp; “Actually, he did,” my mother states matter-of-factly.
“What?”
Looking down, she fixes the tablecloth. “He called two weeks ago and asked if we would give him our blessing to propose to Catherine.”
The poor man looks like he’s trying his hardest not to pick up the bowl of green beans and toss it across the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She waves a hand. “Because I knew you’d have reservations and would ruin everything for her. Just like you ruin everything else.”
Damn. I try my hardest not to take sides when my parents argue, but it was wrong of her not to tell him something so important.
The crushed look on his face as he stands up hurts my heart. “I see.”
Without another word, he walks out of the kitchen.
A moment later, I hear the sound of his car starting. Knowing him, he’s headed to his mechanic shop. It’s not only his business—it’s his happy place.
Where he goes to get away from it all.
“Don’t give me that look, Sawyer.”
I can’t help it. It’s shitty enough when they ignore one another, but it’s even shittier when they hurt each other.
“That wasn’t right, Mama,” I whisper, dragging my fork through the remaining food on my plate. “Catherine’s his daughter too.”
Something she seems to forget a lot lately.
She wrings her hands. “Instead of butting your nose in where it doesn’t belong, you should focus on yourself.”
Before I can ask what she means by that, she hisses, “You’re going to be a bridesmaid.”
Hooray. Not.
I appreciate the sentiment and all, but my older sister and I have never been particularly close. Not only is she five years older, she’s the spitting image of my mom when it comes to her looks and love of pageants and cheerleading.
We couldn’t be more different if we tried.
I’m not really sure how to respond. “Oh…um. Tell her I said thank you?”
Frustration lines her face. “Look, I’m not saying this to be mean, but you’ll stick out like a sore thumb next to Catherine and her friends if you don’t lose some weight before the wedding.” She offers me a small smile that does nothing to soothe the burn. “I just don’t want you to be embarrassed.”