1
***Cass***
“Cass! Cass! Cass!” Jenny and Hannah chanted my name, fully embracing the use of peer pressure. “You have to come! It’s tradition. All the cheerleaders go to the first big party of the year. Picture all the hottest men on campus, unlimited drinks, and alotof open bedrooms. It’s the wildest party of the year, hands down. Last year I saw two fist fights, a threesome happening on the roof, and three different mega influencers.”
I started to shake my head but one of the other girls from the team grabbed my head on both sides and forced my head up and down instead. I forced a laugh and accepted that I wasn’t getting out of it. “Fine! Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll go! But I think I’ll skip the threesomes and fist fights.”
The chorus of cheers should’ve pleased me. I was the new girl on the team and they were doing everything to make me feel comfortable. They were facing an uphill battle after I’d leftbehind the team I’d spent three years with. Not to mention all the other things I’d left behind.
“No more sad face, grumpy face.” Kayla squeezed my cheeks. “I swear to you, one look at some of the men on this campus and you’ll never frown again. Oh, baby, do they make the men different here.”
I swallowed back a sharp reply and blew out a deep breath. “No, thank you to the men. I won’t say no to free alcohol, though.”
“You’ve ignored all of the hot guys we’ve shoved your way. We know heartbreak when we see it.” Jenny applied her lipstick expertly and then turned to face me. “Haven’t you ever heard that you need to get under someone to get over someone? We’re taking you to the party and we’re going to get you laid.”
The idea of touching another man sent a pang of longing through me. I didn’t collapse under the sadness that time, though. I stiffened my spine and put on my bravest face. Because that's what you did when your entire life imploded—you pretended the pieces fit back together. You smiled until your face hurt and hoped nobody noticed the cracks.
I glanced down at myself in my usual outfit of athletic shorts, a racerback tank, and sneakers that had logged more gym hours than social ones. My body was all lean muscle and sharp angles, not the kind of soft curves that made guys look twice. Onceshehad showed up, Cole never looked at me twice. He'd fist-bumped me, called me "dude," treated me like I was just another one of his bros who happened to wear a ponytail.
“Are you going to pick me out something to wear and do my makeup, too? This is where the makeover montage comes in, right?”
She tapped the end of my nose with the lipstick tube and smirked. “Remember that you asked for it.”
I had to remind myself that I had indeed asked for it once we were at the party at a massive house off campus, and I kept tripping over my heels like a newborn giraffe. Arriving as a team should’ve felt cool but I was uncomfortable in the outfit they’d chosen for me and all I could think was that I wanted to be back home in my pajamas, watching trashy reality TV and eating a pack of oreos. I had to keep putting on a good face, though. If I didn’t put in the effort to make friends and join student life I’d regret it when I eventuallydidcrawl out of the depression I’d been living in.
So I did what I had to do. I drank whatever they handed me, smiled, and even laughed when people made jokes. I danced with Jenny and a few other girls from the team. I talked to guys and even flirted a bit. It was excruciating. Every minute that crept by felt like a hundred.
I was fading fast and making my way through the house to find a ride home when my heels got tangled in a tasseled rug. All the stumbling I’d done through the night hadn’t manifested into a fall but I knew the heels were about to win. I had a new cup of punch in my right hand and as I was vaulted forward my arms windmilled. I managed to catch myself on someone’s thick arm and when I looked up, it was Weston Ford’s punch-covered face glaring back at me. I gasped and jerked away from him, just to bump into two more larger than life bodies. I didn’t need to look to know that I was surrounded by the other two Ford brothers, Hayes and Cash.
Everything around me froze while my mind raced. The Ford brothers. They were part of the reason I’d transferred to Texas. Their little sister was the reason it’d hurt to breathe the entire last year. She’d taken everything from me and I’d dreamt of little other than revenge since leaving Los Angeles. Unfortunately, those dreams hadn’t laid out any fool-proof plans so suddenlyfinding myself in their presence presented me with a golden opportunity that I had no idea how to handle.
To revenge or not to revenge? I didn’t know what way I was going when I opened my mouth but that was kind of the theme of my life. “Sorry about the punch but to be fair, you walked into the way of my falling. And, hey, it’s good punch.”
Weston Ford was a massive man with muscles on muscles that seemed to flex with every breath he took. He also never got caught without his cowboy hat on. I’d heard more than one of my teammates pondering if he took it off to shower or have sex. He was a beautiful man with shaggy light brown hair and stunning light brown eyes that were trying to light me on fire.
“Was that some lame attempt to get me out of my shirt?” His voice was gravel-filled and his southern accent made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It was…nice… Too bad his giant ego was attached to it.
“Oh, yeah, definitely. I was walking along when I saw you and thought, I will absolutely die right here and now if I don’t get that big cowboy half naked. So? Cowboy? You planning on taking it off or leaving me with an empty punch cup and nothing to show for it?” Okay, so I still wasn’t sure which direction I was going. If I had planned better or even been able to keep my sarcasm to myself I might’ve shut up and flirted like a normal human being, the way I had with the other guys at the party.
A snort from behind me drew my attention and I glanced back at the tattooed Ford brother, Cash. With his five o’clock shadow and too-long hair the same shade as his brothers, Cash Ford was like a carbon copy of Weston. If someone doodled all over the copy and made the eyes darker. He was smirking as he looked down at me, dark eyes crinkled at the corners.
Weston drew my attention back to him with a grunt. “At least you admit it.”
“I don’t want to see you shirtless, you big oaf.” I crossed my arms and warmth enveloped me as I watched his eyes drop to the little cleavage I had to offer.
He took a step closer and trailed his eyes back up to my face. He wasn’t even bothering to hide that he’d looked down my dress. “I don’t want to see you shirtless, either.”
I huffed, offended. I was working my way up to a full fit when his mouth tilted up on one side. I froze as he leaned down and spoke next to my ear.
“See? We can both bullshit each other.” He moved back and reached up to tip his hat higher. “So? You want something to show for that empty cup?”
He gripped the bottom hem of his shirt and my eyes were glued to the sliver of skin he exposed. Breath caught, eyes burning, I realized I was hungry for more. I wanted him to yank his shirt up and off, maybe dislodge his hat in the process so I could fix it for him.
My mouth continued to move, sarcasm so deep in my soul that I didn’t need my brain functioning to give it out. “Yeah. More punch, Cowboy. Unless you’ve got a punch bowl under that shirt, you can keep it on.”
I was standing there, a little tipsy, and I was lusting after a Ford brother. Not for revenge, not for some elaborate plot. My body hadn’t reacted to anyone other than my ex in so long that I was shocked by the feelings growing inside me. Shocked and then horrified. Weston Ford couldn’t turn me on. That wasn’t ever going to be a part of any plan I came up with.
“I have to go. Keep your shirt on, Cowboy.” I looked over my shoulder at the last Ford brother, the one I hadn’t looked at yet. Whatever last sarcastic thing I’d been about to say dried up on my tongue at the interested look in Hayes’ blue eyes. And I just stood there, flush-cheeked and wanting, when I should've been plotting. When I should've been anything but breathlessand interested. I left them standing there as I hurried away, only stopping to kick off my heels. I wasn't taking any chances with my escape. My skin prickled, hyperaware that all three of them were still watching me as I walked. I didn't need to look back to know. I could feel it, that weight of their attention following me through the crowd.
