Sport Affairs(His Dirty Little Secret)

~Samantha Lee~

The moment we rounded the corner of the building, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of the student, I stopped dead. My sneakers screeched against the concrete, and I turned so fast that Tyler Pierce, the walking, talking personification of my own personal hell, nearly collided with me. He stumbled, catching himself on the brick wall, a flash of surprise crossing his infuriatingly handsome face before the usual mask of arrogant amusement slid back into place.

"Easy there, Lee," he drawled, his voice a low but always managed to scrape against my last nerve. "Trying to take me out already? I thought we'd at least make it to the car first."

His lips quirked into that signature smirk, the one that made cheerleaders swoon and made me want to throw my heavy chemistry textbook at his head. I ignored the way his white t-shirt stretched taut across his broad chest as he righted himself. I ignored the faint, clean scent of his cologne that had no business smelling so good.

"What the hell are you doing here, Pierce?" I hissed, my voice low and tight. My backpack straps dug into my shoulders as I clenched my fists. "I thought I made it perfectly clear, I don't want you anywhere near me, especially not at school. I don't want anyone seeing us together." The thought of the rumors that would fly, Samantha Lee and Tyler Pierce, mortal enemies actually talking was enough to make my stomach churn.

He had the audacity to laugh. It wasn't a nice laugh, it was a mocking, hollow sound that echoed slightly, "Believe me, Lee, stalking you is the absolute last thing on my to-do list. I've got better things to do. Like, literally anything else." He pushed off the wall, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. The movement did criminal things to the sleeves of his shirt. "But apparently, our dear parents are less than thrilled you bolted from the mansion this morning without a word."

My jaw tightened. "I had to get to school."

"Right," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And you couldn't have, I don't know, mentioned that to someone? Your mom and my dad spent the morning convinced I'd somehow scared you out of the house in the middle of the night. My dad gave me a lecture on 'making you feel welcome.'" He did air quotes, his expression one of pure suffering. "So, congratulations. Thanks to your little disappearing act, I'm now your designated chauffeur. From now on, you wait for me. I drive you to and from school."

A snort of disbelief escaped my lips. "Oh, hell no. That is not happening. I would rather walk barefoot through glass than be trapped in a confined space with you."

"Don't get your panties in a twist. The feeling is mutual," he shot back, his eyes glinting with annoyance. "But unless you want to explain to your newlywed mother why you're refusing the 'kind, bonding gesture' from your new stepbrother, then we're stuck. I don't want this any more than you do, but I'm not getting grounded for the next month because you're too stubborn to accept a ride."

I ran a hand through my long hair, yanking at the roots in frustration. The logic, as much as I hated to admit it, was sound. My mom was in full-on happy-new-family mode. Any resistance from me would be seen as a personal slight against her marriage. I was trapped, utterly and completely trapped with the one person on the planet I couldn't stand.

I was trying to formulate a scathing comeback, something that would wipe that smug look off his face, when a movement over his shoulder caught my eye.

My breath hitched.

It was Logan and he was with Hannah Taylor again.

They weren't just walking, his hand was laced with hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles as he leaned in to say something that made her laugh, a bright, tinkling sound that drifted over to us. My Logan... well, not my Logan anymore, apparently.

A low chuckle from beside me broke the spell. "Well, well," Tyler muttered, his gaze following mine. "Seems like your man found a new woman and fast, too."

My head snapped back to him, my own heartbreak momentarily forgotten and replaced by a fresh wave of anger. "How... How do you know about me and Logan?"

Tyler laughed again, this time with genuine, cruel amusement. "Are you serious, Lee? Everyone at the university knows you and Logan were the 'it' couple. It's not exactly a state secret."

His words were like salt in an already gaping wound. I should have known there was no way Tyler didn't know about us, he never made the relationship secret anyway.

"Shut up, Pierce," I spat, my voice shaking. I couldn't look at him. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Without waiting for a reply, I spun on my heel and walked away, my strides long and angry. I didn't care if he followed, I didn't care about anything except putting as much distance between myself and this entire god-awful situation as humanly possible.

Back in the stale, conditioned air of my hostel room, I slammed the door shut and threw my backpack onto my unmade bed. The flimsy mattress groaned in protest. I had no intention of going to the late afternoon cheerleading practice. The thought of having to fake a smile and pretend my entire world hadn't just imploded was unbearable.

I was supposed to be packing, gathering the last of my things for the official, permanent move into the Pierce's mansion, but I just stood in the middle of the room, lost.

A sharp knock on the door jolted me.

"It's open," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

The door creaked open and Rachel poked her head in, her hair escaping her messy bun. "There you are. I saved you from suicide sprints, you owe me a smoothie. What's going on? Why weren't you at practice?"

I groaned and flopped face-first onto my comforter like safety. "Don't ask, Chel. My life is officially a dumpster fire."

I heard her kick the door shut and then the bed dipped as she sat down beside me. She started gently rubbing my back in soothing circles. "Okay, now you have to tell me. Dumpster fires are my specialty."

I rolled over, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. "My mom finally had her wedding and she wants me to move into the mansion with her."

Rachel's eyes widened, but a slow smile spread across her face. "Whoa, Sam! That's huge! I mean, it's weird, but... a mansion, right? Isn't that a good thing? No more barely surviving in the hostel."

"She wants me to move in, like, permanently," I said, "Starting today. I'll be commuting to school from their house."

"Okay, still not seeing the dumpster fire part," she said, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I get that it's a big change, but why are you so worked up about it? It's just a new house."

It's not just a house, I wanted to scream. It's a prison, and the warden is the cocky, infuriatingly hot asshole who leads the boys' hockey team and has made it his life's mission to make me miserable.

The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue. I wanted so badly to tell her that my new stepbrother was Tyler Pierce. I wanted to vent about the forced car rides, and the way he looked at me, and the fact that he saw me break down over Logan but I couldn't. The moment I said it out loud, it would become real in a way it hadn't been before. It was too insane, too humiliating. How could I explain that the guy I'd dedicated years to hating, the focal point of all my competitive rage, was now, technically, family?

So, I didn't. I just forced a weak smile. "I know. It's just... a lot to process you know with Logan cheating with Hannah Taylor too, everything is just messed up."

Rachel's expression softened immediately into one of sympathy. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. He's such a dick."

"Tell me about it."

"Well," she said, her voice turning practical as she clapped her hands on her knees. "We can't fix the dick part, but we can tackle this mountain of clothes. Misery loves company, and so does packing." She hopped off the bed and pulled my empty suitcase out of the closet. "Let's get this over with. The sooner you're packed, the sooner we can get ice cream and bitch about boys."

A real, genuine smile touched my lips for the first time all day. "You're the best, Chel."

Just as she started pulling clothes from my dresser, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, my heart sinking as I saw my mom's name on the screen. It was a text message.

"Samantha, I know today has been a lot. Please come straight to the mansion after school tomorrow. Arthur and I need to talk to you and Tyler about something important"

I let out a long, agonized groan and let my head fall back onto my pillow with a thud.