Chapter 3

Avery's pov

I turned and the entire party narrowed to one face.

The same sharp jaw, same dark, unreadable eyes, same guy that had pulled me out of cold water hours ago and I had somehow humiliated instead of actually being grateful.

My gaze snapped to the giant poster on the wall, then back to him.

Oh.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

The recognition crashed on me strongly. The man from the pool was Luca Kingston. The literal face of the team Ethan had just joined. And I had just pointed at his poster and claimed him as my boyfriend in front of half the campus.

I wanted the floor to open, I wanted a sinkhole, a trapdoor, a sudden blackout—anything that would swallow me whole before he opened his mouth and exposed the most ridiculous lie I had ever told in my life.

Congratulations, Avery. You’ve officially peaked at public humiliation.

He started walking toward me, slowly, every step measured like he was in a movie and there was a special theme song playing in the background. 

The crowd seemed to part without being asked. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure people could see it. 

He stopped right beside me, close enough that I caught the faint scent of his oud dé only God knows what perfume.

Then his arm draped around my shoulders—and he looked straight at Ethan and Lucille.

“You guys have a problem with my girl?” he asked, his eyebrows raising softly.

The words landed like a mic drop.

Ethan’s mouth opened, closed, opened again, like he had somehow just caught a flu.“Your… your girl?”

Luca’s eyebrow dropped and lifted. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked, his tone dropping into an obvious mocking drawl.

“No—no.” Ethan’s voice cracked on the second no. He cleared his throat and extended his arm for a handshake. “Actually, I’m Ethan. New signee on your team.”

“I don’t care.” Luca said, staring down at his hand like it was contaminated with poison.

He turned fully to me, voice dropping into something softer but still loud enough for the nearest listeners. “C’mon, babe. Let’s leave these chipmunks.”

Chipmunks.  

I almost choked on a hysterical laugh.

Lucille’s face was absolutely red, burning hot with rage. The kind of rage that made me wonder, for one dizzy second, what I had ever done to deserve this level of betrayal from the girl who used to steal my hoodies and finish my sentences. 

The thought hurt more and more the longer it stayed in my head.

Luca’s hand slid down to mine. His fingers closed around my wrist—firm, not gentle—and he guided me through the crowd like he’d done it a hundred times. 

People stared, whispers started and even phones came out. I kept my eyes forward and tried not to trip over my own feet.

He didn’t stop until we were upstairs, in a quieter bedroom with the bass still thumping faintly through the floor. The second the door clicked shut, whatever leftover adrenaline I’d been running on vanished.

I broke.

Ugly, gasping sobs tore out of me before I could stop them. My hands covered my face. My shoulders shook. All the careful armor I’d put on downstairs cracked in one messy collapse.

Luca didn’t say anything at first. He just crossed the room, grabbed a box of tissues from the nightstand, and held one out.

I took it with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry,” I managed between sobs. “About earlier. The pool. And just now. I—God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s cool.” His voice was quieter up here like he was trying not to break me.

I kept crying anyway, the kind of tears that made my chest ache and my nose run and left me feeling hollowed out.

 “What happened with those two?” he asked finally, after several minutes of me crying relentlessly.

I dragged in a shaky breath and forced the words out.

“We were supposed to celebrate his signing today so I made him a scrapbook,” I said, staring at the tissue shredding between my fingers. “I carried it to the arena today like an idiot, thinking he was going to appreciate it.”

Luca didn’t interrupt, he just stayed leaning against the dresser, arms loosely crossed, watching me.

“I overheard him,” I continued, my voice staying low, almost flat, because if I let it rise I was going to break again. “He was sitting there with his friends laughing about how I was never real. Just a Truth or Dare that went on too long. He said…” I swallowed. The exact words still burning. “He said I had a good pussy, that he was only there for the sex. Then he pulled out his phone and showed them his actual girlfriend.”

I let out a short, humorless breath.

“I didn’t put it together until tonight. Until she walked in on his arm.” My eyes burned all over again. “Lucille—my bestfriend—was his girlfriend all along.”

Silence stretched for a second.

“What the fuck?” Luca’s jaw had gone tight. The easy, mocking expression he’d worn downstairs was completely gone. “That bastard’s a straight-up jerk. I should go back out there and beat the shit out of him.”

A wet, surprised laugh burst out of me. Tears still blurred everything, but the laugh felt real. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You deserve better than that.”

I managed a watery smile.

He nodded toward the tissues. “Clean your face. I don’t want that asshole seeing you cry. Instead…” A small, almost wicked tilt of his mouth. “Let’s make sure we get them jealous tonight.”

Something reckless and warm flickered in my chest. “Sure thing.”

I wiped my cheeks, fixed what I could of my makeup in the mirror, and followed him back downstairs.

The second we hit the main floor I grabbed the first drink I saw and downed it in three long swallows. 

Luca’s hand found the small of my back like it belonged there and we started to dance.

His hands settled on my hips, guiding me. I turned, pressed my back to his chest, and rolled against him in slow, deliberate waves. 

When I spun to face him again I let my hands slide up his shoulders, down his chest, lower. 

He didn’t stop me. If anything, his grip tightened, pulling me closer until there was almost no space left.

At one point I dropped lower, hands trailing down his thighs, looking up at him through my lashes before rising again in a slow grind that left very little to the imagination. His jaw flexed, his eyes stayed locked on mine like the rest of the room had ceased to exist.

Across the floor, Ethan watched with a look that was pure, stunned jealousy. Lucille stood beside him with her arms crossed so tightly it looked painful, irritation carved into every line of her face.

Good, I thought viciously. Choke on it.

“Alright, freaks.” Someone yelled out, cutting the music. “We're having a mandatory Truth or Dare session! It's time to bring out your dirtiest, naughtiest side!”

Cheers exploded and within seconds people were dragging chairs and cushions into a wide circle on the floor. 

The first spin landed on a girl in a tiny black dress.

“I dare you to remove three things from your body.” The guy said, grinning mischievously.

She stood, grinned back, and the very first thing she unhooked was her bra—pulling it free through her sleeve like she’d practiced—before tossing it aside and winking straight at Luca.

Horny fuck.

I snorted into my drink. The bottle spun again.

It slowed… slowed… and stopped pointing directly at Luca.

The same guy from the mic leaned forward, grinning like Christmas had come early. “Luca. We all heard you calling this beautiful mystery lady your girl.”

The circle erupted in cheers and wolf-whistles.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a condom, and tossed it into the space between us. 

“I dare you both,” he said, loud enough for the whole room, “to have a marathon sex tonight.”