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by Ashley Jade
“In case you’re too stupid to catch on, numbnuts, the rumors Casey’s spreading are bullshit. She’s only doing it because she’s bitter about me kicking her ass to the curb.” Lennox releases me and I lock eyes with the shitbag. “But go right ahead and have a crack at her.” Grinning, I slap his back. “Everyone knows I can have any pussy I want whenever I want, so it’s no skin off my balls. Enjoy my sloppy seconds.”
More snickers break out as I turn to my locker.
“You can have any pussy you want, huh?”
There’s no hiding the mocking glint in his tone.
Normally, I’d ignore it, but thanks to my cunt of an ex, I’m in danger of people mistaking me for low hanging fruit.
Folding my arms across my chest, I face him. “Yeah, why? Does your mom want to suck me off in the library after school again?”
Cortland’s mom is a History teacher at RHA.
But more importantly, she’s hot as fuck.
“Damn,” Lennox exclaims as Cortland’s face turns ashen. “You ain’t right, Covington.”
That may be true, but I have no regrets about hooking up with her last year.
Or the low blow I just dealt my teammate.
It’s all I can do not to laugh when he shoves me. “She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, asshole.”
I lean against my locker. “Ten-foot pole, no. My nine-inch dick on the other hand—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he roars. “You think you’re such hot shit, but you’re not.” Dwight gets between us when he attempts to shove me again. “Newsflash, Covington. You aren’t that talented on the field, and you aren’t half the pussy magnet you think you are around here.”
The fucker clearly lost some brain cells during practice. “Then you must be deaf, dumb, and blind…in addition to ugly.”
I expect him to lunge at me once more, but to my surprise he concedes. “You know, maybe you’re right.”
The taunting bite in his tone makes my teeth rattle.
Sensing something is about to go down, everyone’s eyes zero in on our exchange.
“Glad that’s settled.” I pull a towel out of my locker. “Good talk.”
It’s not the most cunning remark, but it’s one that will put this shit to rest.
Until I hear the next words out of his mouth.
“Care to bet on it?”
I glare at him. “Bet on what?”
“You said you could have any pussy you want. I’m calling bullshit.”
Oh, hell. Proving him wrong will be a piece of cake.
“Well in that case, get ready to lose.”
Dwight rubs his hands, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Hold up. You can’t agree to a bet without discussing the terms first.”
Cortland nods. “He’s right.” He narrows his eyes. “If you lose, I get your car.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Stunned silence spreads over the locker room for a good thirty seconds.
Lennox sucks in a breath. “Boy, are you crazy?”
“He must be.” My lip curls with irritation. “That’s a two-million-dollar LaFerrari.”
There are less than a dozen of them in the world and I’ll be damned if Cortland thinks he’s going to get his grubby little hands on mine.
The bastard in question keeps his expression neutral. “Listen, if you don’t think you can—”
“Oh, I can,” I bark before my brain can stop me. “However, there’s just one problem…for you.”
Wariness passes in his gaze. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Given I get more ass than a toilet seat.” I flash some teeth. “Your mom’s included, I’m not really sure who else—”
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence before he declares, “Sawyer Church.”
“The Jesus freak?” someone calls out.
“Thought you already tapped that ass?” another guy yells.
“You mean that fat ass,” someone all the way in the back hollers.
A few cackles erupt and Cortland smiles snidely.
“Nah. If memory serves, you were with Casey that night.” Cortland rubs his chin, assessing me. “Right?”
Fuck. Talk about a catch-22.
Fortunately, Dwight comes to the rescue. “Man, please. Of course he was. Sawyer’s uncle is the head minister at my church and the only way any dude’s hitting that is with a wedding band. Trust me.”
Cortland’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “But Covington here told us he can have any pussy.”
Except that one.
“Pick a different girl,” I grind out.
“Why?”
I jut my chin at Dwight. “You heard what he said. Call me crazy, but I’m not about to put a ring on it just to win a stupid bet.”
He thinks about this for a moment before replying, “You have a point.”
I’m relieved…until he says, “So date her for six months.” He looks around. “If she doesn’t give it up by then—I get your car.”
Lennox’s gaze ping-pongs between us. “And what does Cole get if he wins?”
He means when I win.
I should do the smart thing and shut it down, but my pride won’t let me back down from a challenge.
It’s my Achilles’ heel.
Cortland shrugs. “I don’t know. How about—”
“The satisfaction of shutting you the fuck up for good.”
Chapter 10
Sawyer
Oh, that shithead motherfucking son of a goddamn bitch.
I shoot my gaze up to the ceiling. Sorry Jesus.
Anger rolls through me so swiftly I shake with the force of it.
I have to command my feet—which are currently propped up on the stall door so they’re hidden—to not run right out there and give the asshole a piece of my mind.
Cortland’s always been a douche, so his asinine bet doesn’t surprise me.
But Cole?
He didn’t have to concede.
He could have told his teammate to go fuck himself.
He could have told him and everyone else the truth about our hookup so Cortland would drop it.
Cole’s warning from the other night zips around my head like a boomerang. “The second you think I’m capable of changing, or there’s any good in me, I’ll prove you wrong and hurt you again…worse than before.”
Turns out he was right.
But I can’t focus on how much it hurts right now, because I’m definitely going to be late for work if I don’t leave in the next ten minutes.
Attempting to remain calm, I tune into the sound of the showers running along with football talk and plans for the upcoming weekend.
It doesn’t seem like they’ll be clearing out anytime soon.
Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I note the time and mutter a silent curse…just as someone enters the stall next to me.
Holding my breath—because I’m positive the dude must have had roadkill for lunch—I force myself not to move a muscle.
I’m about ready to pass out when I finally hear his stall door open and he leaves.
Think, Sawyer. Think.
Scanning my brain, I try my hardest to devise a plan to get everyone out so I can exit.
My heart squeezes as the memory flits through my head.
As much as I hate thinking about that day—not to mention the irony of using this tactic—it’s the only solution that could work.
I just need a willing accomplice.
An accomplice who’s already here.
With no other options, I send a text to Bianca.
Sawyer: I need your help.
Bianca: Again?
Sawyer: I’m trapped in the boys’ locker room.
Bianca: See any nice peens?
Before I can tell her no, my phone lights up with another text.
Bianca: Is Lennox’s dick as huge as everyone says?
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Sawyer: I need you to do me a really big favor.
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Bianca: You’re shit out of luck. My favor quota for you has already reached its limit for the century.
Brat.
Sawyer: Please, Bianca. I can’t afford to lose my job. I know you don’t understand because you eat off gold platters every night and bathe in diamonds and caviar, but some people don’t have it so easy.
Bianca: Whoa. Passive aggressive and bitchy.
Crap. That’s not going to get me anywhere with her.
Sawyer: You’re right. That was rude. I’m sorry.
Bianca: Don’t be. For a minute I almost liked you.
I want to ask her if that means she’ll help me, but I get her follow up text.
Bianca: I’ll help you, but it’s gonna cost you.
Surprise, surprise.
Sawyer: I already told you I don’t have any money.
Bianca: I don’t want your money, Church.
Sawyer: What do you want?
Bianca: I haven’t decided yet. But when I do, I’ll let you know. Deal?
This has bad idea written all over it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Sawyer: Provided it’s not illegal, it’s a deal.
Bianca: We’ll discuss the semantics when the time comes. What is it you need me to do?
Sawyer: Pull the fire alarm at some point in the next three minutes.
Bianca: Just so we’re clear. You’re asking me to commit a crime?
Well, when she puts it like that.
Sawyer: You’re right. It was wrong of me to ask you. Forget it.
Mere seconds after I press the send button the ear-piercing sound of the fire alarm blaring infiltrates my eardrums and my phone lights up with another text.
Bianca: You owe me two favors now.
Chapter 11
My mouth drops open as I watch Bianca saunter down her driveway to my van.
Long dark hair falls down her back in silky waves, her glittery gold shadow and winged eyeliner are immaculate, her impossibly high cheekbones are contoured and highlighted to perfection, and her outfit…
Dear God.
Cole is going to lose his shit when she walks through the door, and every guy at Christian’s is going to duke it out for a chance to stand next to her.
The nude colored low-cut, belly-baring shirt—if it even qualifies as one given there’s so little material—combined with the matching skirt that rides dangerously low on her razor-sharp hipbones, showcases her flawless body.
To top it off, every time she moves, the crystals and rhinestones on the fabric catch the light, making her look like some kind of exotic naked shimmery goddess sent straight from Heaven.
Too bad her personality came straight from Hell.
“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask as she gets settled in the passenger seat.
It’s only then I notice the scar on her lower abdomen. I want to ask her what it’s from, but I don’t want to be rude or upset her.
Annoyance illuminates her pretty face as she adjusts the shawl she brought with her around her waist. “Why are you dressed like that?”
I look down at my purple cardigan and black maxi skirt. I see nothing wrong with my outfit. In fact, it’s one of the better ones I own because it doesn’t draw attention to all my rolls.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing…if you’re going as a librarian for Halloween.”
“Halloween was yesterday,” I remind her.
With a huff, she flicks a button on my radio and a rap song about getting bitches and money starts to play. “Yeah, and tonight’s the big Halloween party at Christian’s.” Folding her arms across her chest, she leans back. “God, you’re so out of the loop, sometimes it feels like we don’t even go to the same school.”
True dat.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I shout over the music.
Besides, why in the world would I want to hang out with a bunch of rich, mean, fake jerks who only care about superficial things like popularity and appearance?
At least that’s what I tell myself as I step on the gas and head to Christian’s.
The party is in full swing by the time we walk in and I feel stupid for being the only one who didn’t dress up.
“I’m getting something to drink,” Bianca—who’s evidently a belly dancer for Halloween—tosses out over her shoulder before making a beeline for the living room.
Just like I predicted, every guy she passes is practically salivating. So much so, a few of them leave their dates and follow her—make that us, because I’m not leaving baby Covington in shark-infested waters by herself—to the table lined with alcohol bottles.
“I bet there’s soda in the kitchen,” I helpfully suggest, but she shakes her head.
“No need.” She plucks a red Solo cup from the stack. “I’m not drinking. This is only for show.”
I’m about to ask her why she feels the need to do that, but a familiar voice behind us cheerfully slurs, “Well, if it isn’t the best tutor in the world.”
Best tutor my ass, we’ve only had one session so far and he fell asleep in the middle of it.
I turn around to face Oakley. He’s wearing a wig with two long braids, a cowboy hat, and a shirt with a huge pot plant on it. He also has a guitar strapped to his chest and of course, a joint in one hand.
An equally tipsy Morgan—who appears to be a sexy nurse—is draped over his shoulder.
“I thought we were supposed to go upstairs so I could check your temperature?” she croons.
Oakley gives her a dopey grin. “In a minute, baby girl.”
Beside me, Bianca stiffens, looking like she’s been stabbed in the heart before she quickly recovers. I make a mental note to ask her about it later. Not that she’ll tell me, but it’s worth a shot.
I notice the word “trigger” scrawled on Oak’s guitar and grin.
Oakley doesn’t strike me as someone who listens to country music, but I can see why he’d be a fan of this particular artist given their mutual love for marijuana.
“Let me guess…Willie Nelson?”
“Fucking A. Yes!!” He grins. “Finally, someone got it.”
“My dad’s been listening to his music for as long as I can remember.”
“He’s a pretty awesome dude.” Puzzled, he surveys my outfit. “Librarian?”
“Told you,” Bianca sings before she takes a sip from her cup and looks up at Oakley. “You look awes—”
“What the fuck?” a sinister voice rumbles.
Before I can register what’s happening, a tall figure wearing a football helmet and a Patriots jersey with the number twelve on it charges in our direction.
Upon closer inspection, I realize who it is.
It doesn’t surprise me that a cocky quarterback like Cole would go as yet another cocky quarterback for Halloween.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
For a moment, I think he’s talking to me, but nope, he’s glaring daggers at his younger sister.
Bianca starts to speak, but Cole takes off his helmet.
And then his shirt.
A few wolf whistles and catcalls break out and I force myself to ignore his lean, toned body, flawless skin, and those killer abs that lead to the sexiest V I’ve ever seen.
“Put this on. Now.”
Bianca simply laughs. “Yeah, no. The Patriots suck.”
A few people around us titter in agreement and that only pisses Cole off more.
“The Patriots do not suck,” he seethes as he takes hold of her arm. “What sucks is seeing your little sister dressed up like a skank. Let’s go.”
“I’ll be right back.” She crinkles her nose at me as he leads her out of the living room. “This won’t take long.”
Chapter 12
Cole
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” I bark as I yank Bianca out onto the patio.
My baby sister—who looks nothing like a sister ever should right now—places her hands on her hips.
“Jace told me I could come.”
“Bullshit.”
Jace handed me my ass the first and only time I let her come to a party at Christian’s. There’s no way he’d change his mind.
“It’s true.” She plucks her cell out of her purse and hands it to me. “Don’t believe me? Ask him yourself.”
Not falling for her trap, I dial his number.
He answers on the third ring.
“What’s up?”
“Did you give Bianca permission to go to Christian’s party?”
There’s a long pause and then, “Yeah. But only because she told me she was going with Sawyer.” Concern fills his voice. “Sawyer’s there, right? I swear to God if Bianca lied—”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Sawyer’s here.”
She was kind of hard to miss considering she didn’t show up in a costume.
Then again, it doesn’t really surprise me. As usual, Sawyer’s the only one who doesn’t pretend to be someone she’s not.
“Is everything okay?” Jace questions.
Forcing myself to focus on the situation instead of my soon-to-be fake girlfriend, I utter, “No. Bianca showed up dressed—”
Bianca whacks the phone out of my hand before I can finish that sentence.
We dive for it at the same time, but she’s scrawny, so she wins.
After hitting the mute button, she points it at me like a gun. “If I leave, I’m taking Sawyer with me.”
Is that supposed to be a threat? “Fine by me.”
Sawyer being here is one hell of a buzz kill. I hate knowing Little Miss Bible Thumper is watching and judging my every move.
Plus, I know the second Cortland sees her, he’ll start bugging the shit out of me about the bet.
Not to mention the biggest reason she needs to go.