XX4

The rest of the session proceeded with a fluid rhythm. Kol guided the children through a new sequence for their upcoming showcase at the Sunrise Dance Studio, watching with a sense of pride as most of them mirrored his movements with eager precision. When the clock struck the hour, he had to clear the floor for the cheer squad, though several students lingered, reluctant to leave the magic of the music.

Kol stayed behind for a few extra minutes to speak with the parents of a particularly gifted young boy. "Leo was exceptional today," Kol said, his voice warm.

"He told me he wants to be just like his teacher when he grows up," the father replied, and Kol felt a genuine tug at his heartstrings.

"That’s incredibly kind," Kol murmured, truly touched. He knelt to the boy's height, offering a encouraging smile. "If you keep practicing with that much heart, Leo, there’s nothing you can’t achieve. Remember that, okay?"

"I will, Mr. Reyes!" the boy chirped with a bright, gap-toothed grin.

"Oh, wow," a high-pitched voice cooed from the doorway. Kol stood up to find a group of cheerleaders watching. "It’s actually adorable how amazing you are with those kids."

"Thanks," Kol said, his tone shifting to one of guarded politeness. His memories of high school were littered with taunts from the popular athletic crowds, and he usually gave the university's elite social circles a wide berth.

"I wish I had that kind of patience," the girl continued, pouting playfully. "Seriously, you're doing something great."

Kol softened slightly, the praise sounding surprisingly sincere. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

A second cheerleader stepped forward, her eyes scanning him curiously. "You’re the volunteer instructor? I expected a retired professional, not someone so... young and striking."

Kol offered a small, awkward laugh. "Just a student, same as you."

"Isn't he just impressive?" the first girl remarked. "Balancing a heavy course load and this? I don't know how he does it."

"Forget the schedule—how does he look this good after a workout?" the second girl added, reaching out to lightly brush a stray dark curl from Kol’s forehead. "Your hair is perfect. You have to give us the secret."

"It’s mostly just high-quality dry shampoo and luck," Kol joked, and they laughed as if he were a world-class comedian. For a fleeting moment, he felt the intoxicating pull of being "in" with the popular crowd.

"Well," the second girl said, tossing her hair. "It was great meeting you, Mr..."

"Kol," he supplied, but a sharp, nasal voice cut through the air before he could finish.

"Wait. Is that... Kol Reyes?"

Kol felt a cold shiver of dread. He would know that condescending tone anywhere. Appearing from behind the others was Isabella Alvarez. She and her twin brother, Diego, had been the architects of his misery in high school. He’d known they attended Austin State—half the town did—but they were seniors, and he had managed to stay invisible for two whole years. It seemed his streak of safety had officially shattered.

"Hello, Isabella," Kol said softly.

She shouldered past her teammates, dismissing them with a sharp wave. They scurried into the studio as Isabella twirled a strand of her dark hair, her gaze clinical and cold. "Look at you. All grown up."

"And you’re still the queen of the squad," Kol noted. It was a simple observation, but Isabella’s eyes flashed.

"How noble of you," she said, her smile not reaching her eyes, "to spend your Saturdays with the charity cases who can't afford a real pro."

Kol needed to leave before the old wounds started to bleed. "It was... an experience seeing you again, Isabella." He pivoted and hurried toward the parking lot, feeling her silent, predatory gaze tracking his every step until he reached his car.

Safely inside, he let out a jagged breath. Running into his old tormentor was a nightmare he hadn't prepared for, especially after the vulnerability of the night before. He could only pray he hadn't just placed himself back on her radar.

DIEGO

Diego Alvarez surfaced from sleep just after eleven. He stretched, claimed the entire expanse of the mattress, and let out a satisfied grunt. He was relieved the man from last night had vanished before the sun stayed up too long; he wasn't in the mood for the "morning after" interrogation or the awkwardness of a shared breakfast. Last night had been the ultimate win: high-octane chemistry with zero complications. No deep talks, no expectations, just two bodies and a hell of a lot of heat.

He pulled on some athletic shorts and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He caught his reflection and gave himself a sharp, confident nod. "Still at the top of the game," he muttered. Confidence was a requirement for a captain.

His stomach gave an impatient growl, sending him to the kitchen. Eggs were the extent of his culinary range, so he cracked several into a bowl and began to whisk. He humed as he checked the fridge for bacon or cheese, but the shelves were looking tragically bare. He’d have to remind Isabella to handle the grocery run.

He was just sliding the scramble into a pan when the front door slammed. "Morning, Isabella," Diego called out.

"Thanks for blocking me in the driveway, you prick," she snapped, dropping her gear bag with a heavy thud.

"Always looking out for you," Diego joked, giving her a mock salute.

Isabella grabbed a bottle of green juice, bumping him aside with her shoulder. "I'm just glad whatever conquest you dragged home had the decency to clear out before I had to look at them."

"How did you—"

"The walls in this house aren't exactly soundproof, genius." She took a swig of her juice, her expression darkening as she slumped into a chair.

"You're in a charming mood," Diego noted. "Is it the lack of sleep or the kale juice?"

"Neither." She toyed with the bottle cap. "Do you remember that kid from back home? The one we used to mess with?"

"You'll have to be more specific. You had a long list." Diego scooped his eggs onto a plate and sat across from her.

"Kol Reyes." She spat the name like it was poison.

Diego took a large bite of eggs, the heat of the food acting as a shield while his brain struggled to place the name.

Isabella rolled her eyes, reading his confusion instantly. "He was the little scholarship nerd who always ruined my curve in History. He was two years younger, a total teacher's pet. And he used to follow you around like a lost puppy."

"Most people did," Diego smirked.

"You invited him to the Spring formal as a prank, remember?" Isabella reminded him.

The memory clicked. "Oh, right. Kol. The lanky kid with the thick frames and the nervous stutter. No muscle to speak of."

"You're a jerk," Isabella said, though she didn't look offended. "Anyway, it was annoying enough when he was just a brainiac. But I saw him today at the Sunrise Dance Studio. He’s... changed. He’s actually attractive now, and he’s doing this whole 'saint of the community' routine teaching dance to kids. The other girls on the squad were practically swooning over him."

"So he got a glow-up," Diego shrugged, finishing his meal. "Good for him."

"No, not 'good for him.' He isn't allowed to be more relevant than me on this campus. I'm the senior captain! I should be the one people are talking about."

Diego was starting to lose interest in the sibling rivalry. "Okay. Why are you telling me this?"

Isabella leaned in, a familiar, calculating glint in her eyes. "I need you to do what you do best."

"Which is?" Diego stood to take his plate to the sink. "I told you, I’m done with your social warfare. I have a championship to win."

"Please, Diego." She put on her best manipulative pout. "Just break his heart again. It’ll be a laugh! Just like the old days. Knock him back down a few pegs."

"I told you, I don't do that petty stuff anymore." Diego started toward the door, annoyed.

Isabella called after him, "You’re already cycling through half the campus and leaving them on read. What’s one more? Especially one who actually deserves a reality check."

Diego ignored her, headed for a workout to burn off the irritation. As he ran toward the Austin Wolves Training Center, he told himself he wasn't a villain. The men and women he slept with knew the score. He was Diego Alvarez; he didn't do flowers, he didn't do "getting to know you," and he certainly didn't do feelings. It was a mutual exchange. Right?

He thought back to the man from last night. He certainly hadn't seemed to want a commitment. But then Diego thought of the others—the ones who stayed for breakfast, the ones who sent texts he never opened.

Maybe Isabella is right, he thought, lifting a set of heavy dumbbells. Maybe I’m already the bad guy. I might as well get paid in entertainment for it.

After his workout, he returned home to find Isabella scrolling through her phone on the sofa.

"What's the trade?" Diego asked, leaning against the wall.

Isabella looked up, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. "Sit. I’ve been doing some digging. His social media is mostly private, but his old F******k is a goldmine."

She tapped her screen and turned the phone toward him. It was a photo of Kol from his high school graduation. He was wearing the oversized cap and gown, looking thin and awkward, those massive glasses obscuring his face. "I don't know," Diego said, feeling a strange flicker of hesitation. "He looks... harmless."

"That's the 'before' picture," Isabella hissed, swiping the screen. "Look at this one from last month."

Diego’s breath hitched. In the new photo, Kol wasn't wearing glasses. His hair was pulled back, revealing a sharp, elegant jawline and those same soulful brown eyes. Diego’s heart hammered against his ribs as a sudden, jarring realization took hold.

"What?" Isabella demanded, watching his face. "Is it bad? I thought he looked too good, but maybe—"

Diego didn't hear her. He was looking at the man he had just spent the most intense night of his life with. The "stranger" from the party wasn't a stranger at all.