Sport Affairs(His Dirty Little Secret)

~Samantha Lee~

The ceiling in my new bedroom was a vast, unforgiving white. I'd counted 1,472 imaginary sheep, named every state capital alphabetically, and mentally replayed the final three seconds of last season's championship game at least fifty times. Still, sleep was a luxury I apparently no longer deserved.

My sheets were twisted around my legs, damp with a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature. Every time I closed my eyes, the scene replayed in my head, how my mother's hand tucked into the arm of a smiling Mr. Pierce, and just behind them was his son.

Tyler! Fucking! Pierce.

My arch-nemesis and now, thanks to a whirlwind romance that apparently blossomed over what? Charity galas? He was my stepbrother.

The thought of it sends a shiver down my spine and it's not in any good way.

How could my mom do this? Of all the single, eligible men in this city, she had to fall for the father of the one person who could make my blood boil just by breathing in my general direction. She had no idea about the years of rivalry, the snide remarks in the hallways, the competitive fire that burned between the hockey team and the cheerleading team. She had no idea about that night at the party, the blur of alcohol and tension that ended with his hands on my waist and his mouth dangerously swallowing mine.

A hot flush crawled up my neck just thinking about what happened between us. My mom would kill me, not just kill me, she would disown me, then resurrect me just to kill me a second time if she ever found out I'd so much as shared air with Tyler Pierce outside of a school-sanctioned event. Staying away from him wasn't a suggestion, it was a survival mandate, and now, I was supposed to live with him.

The first rays of morning light finally sliced through the blinds, and I took it as my cue to escape. I slid out of bed silently like a spy on a mission. The mission?

Operation: Avoid All Pierces.

I tiptoed past the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee a painful temptation, and slipped out the front door of the ridiculously oversized mansion without so much as a granola bar. Freedom tasted like crisp morning air and an empty stomach.

My old hostel dorm room felt like a time capsule. Cardboard boxes slumped against the walls, half-packed and judgmental. A faded poster of my favorite band was still tacked to the wall, a relic from a simpler time like, last week. I groaned, sinking onto the edge of my stripped mattress. The thought of cramming the rest of my life into these boxes and hauling them over to the Pierce palace by the weekend made my entire body ache with dread.

A glance at my phone sent a jolt of panic through me.

Class!

Crap!

I practically sprinted across campus, my backpack thumping against my spine. I skidded into the lecture hall with minutes to spare, my lungs burning. My relief was short-lived. I hated this class not because of the professor or the subject matter, but because Logan was in it. And right on cue, as I was settling into a seat in the back corner, he walked in.

But he wasn't alone.

His hand was laced with Hannah's, their fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world. They didn't need to keep it a secret anymore, not since I had caught them cheating on me, kissing like their life depends on it, but I couldn't lie the public display was a fresh stab to the gut, a bitter, ugly thing coiled in my stomach, and I had to force myself to look away, focusing on a particularly interesting crack in the ceiling. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing how much it still stung.

The whispers started almost immediately, a low hiss that slithered through the room.

"...can't believe he dumped Sam for her..."

"Are you kidding? Hannah's way prettier. It's a total upgrade."

"God, I'd be so embarrassed if I were her..."

My knuckles turned white as I gripped my pen. Each word was a tiny, sharp pebble being thrown at me. My cheeks burned with a humiliating heat, and all I wanted was for the floor to swallow me whole.

Just as I thought I was going to combust from sheer mortification spontaneously, Professor Albright strode in, his briefcase thumping onto the lectern. "Alright, people, settle down!"

I'd never been so grateful to hear his booming, monotonous voice in my entire life. The whispers died out, replaced by the shuffling of notebooks. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, my shoulders slumping in relief.

The next hour was a blur of academic jargon that went in one ear and out the other. The second the class ended, I had my books shoved in my bag, ready to make a clean getaway. My plan was to find Rachel and Lily and drown my sorrows in a truly obscene amount of iced coffee.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

"Well, well, look what we have here."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Blocking the doorway were Hannah and her two carbon-copy minions, Amber and Jessica. I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck.

"Lost something?" I asked, my voice dripping with false sweetness.

A smirk played on Hannah's perfectly glossed lips. "Just wondering how it feels, Sam to lose." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper that was loud enough for everyone still in the room to hear. "Logan told me you were... boring. He needed someone with more passion. I'm just better, you know? He chose me."

Amber and Jessica giggled like a pair of hyenas. The words were designed to be poison darts, and damn it, they were hitting their mark. My throat felt tight, my carefully constructed wall of indifference crumbling.

"You want to know what she needs?" A new voice cut through the tension. Rachel appeared at my side, Lily right behind her, both of them looking ready for war.

Rachel fixed Hannah with a withering glare. "She needs you to go ahead and enjoy eating her trash. Bon appétit."

Lily crossed her arms, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Seriously, Hannah. Sam doesn't need Logan. He's used and dumped. You're welcome to him."

Hannah's jaw dropped. She looked from Rachel's cool look to Lily's outright aggression and back to me. For once, the queen bee was speechless. With a frustrated huff that ruffled her perfect hair, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her minions scrambling to follow.

The second they were gone, the tension broke. I high-fived Lily and Rachel, a real, genuine smile finally breaking through. "God, I love you guys. Seriously. 'Eating her trash'?"

Rachel shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. "Seemed appropriate."

I laughed, a wave of gratitude washing over me. This was my family, the one I'd chosen.

Just as I turned to suggest our coffee run, my eyes caught on a figure leaning against the far wall at the entrance to the hall. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of lazy confidence that always set my teeth on edge.

Tyler.

He wasn't talking to anyone or looking at his phone. He was just standing there, his dark eyes fixed directly on me. He'd seen the whole thing. The confrontation, my friends' intervention, everything. There was an unreadable expression on his face, an intensity that made the air feel thick and heavy.

A strange current passed between us, a silent, charged acknowledgment that crackled across the crowded hallway.

Rachel's gaze darted from me to Tyler and back again. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Okay," she said slowly, her voice low. "We have a lot to talk about. Starting with what the hell really happened at the party Friday night, and ending with why your nemesis is staring at you like you're the last drop of water in the desert."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Yeah, okay," I managed to say, my voice a little breathless. I gave them a quick, tight nod. "I'll be right back."

I didn't wait for a response. With a deep breath, I started walking, not towards my friends, but towards the hall entrance, towards him. My steps were even and deliberate, my gaze fixed straight ahead. I wasn't going to stop, I wasn't going to engage, I was going to walk right past him and out into the fresh air and pretend he didn't exist.

As I reached the entrance, I brushed past him, the heat radiating off his body warming my skin for a fraction of a second, I didn't look at him, I just kept walking.

I made it three steps before I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, falling into pace with my own.

He was following me.