009

The party wasn't what they were expecting. For one, strippers were sliding down poles attached to the roof, a central stage that had dancers performing to songs from a live DJ, and a bar with three bartenders hard at work mixing top- shelf liquor. The whole mansion had been transformed into a strip club, complete with two bouncers outside to check IDs.

Matt, the birthday boy, became a multi-millionaire during the crypto boom. He had been tempted to drop out of school as a freshman, but stayed to keep his promise to his grandma to be the first person in their family to graduate. He had a garage of fast European cars, went to Paris to get his haircuts, and threw lavish parties like this one.

"West is stariiiing," April nudged. "Look alive, he is coming over, Sky."

Following April's line of sight, she saw him, and she could have sworn she had seen this scene in movies before, because everything froze, as he strutted over to her in a white button down shirt, blue denim, and black Chelsea boots. His rolled up sleeves showing his delicious tattoos.

"Hey, princess," he teased casually, with his heartbreaker but you'll love every moment of it smile in place; flirty eyes that a woman, man, or even a squirrel couldn't help getting lost in. Damn, he was a sexy piece of meat, full stop. The trail of giggling wannabe wags behind him totally agreed with that thought.

Skylar hated moments like this. While her brain was roaring, "Flee, he's trouble, the merciless ruin you and leave asshole," her traitorous pussy was quivering, "Boy, come wreck me." She must be ovulating. Yes, that was the only plausible reason for this madness. She took a much needed breather to prevent her name from being written on his disturbingly long list of dipped pussies.

"Don't call me that sexist crap," she tried sassing back. "Save it for your future Mrs. Westbrook." Immediately, an elbow jabbed her in the ribs. "Ow!" she yelped, glaring at April as she rubbed her sides. "Seriously, that hurts. What the hell was that for?"

"Be nice!" April hissed under her breath, turning to Liam. She plastered on a sugary smile. "Hi, West. Awesome game last weekend. Three touchdowns? You were pretty amazing out there. Those punks thought they could beat us, but you Buckeyes sent them bleeding. Thanks for the tickets."

"Nah, it's cool, April," he grinned at her. "Yeah, I was on fire. Sometimes you gotta remind losers who the true king is. Silenced those yapping ugly ass suckers for good." Skylar rolled her eyes. Finding a drop of humility in this man's blood was the same as discovering a lush garden on Mercury.

"Hey, I got two tickets for our next game against the Fighting Tigers." He pulled out tickets with each team's mascot printed on them from his pocket. "Here, you can bring Chris or a friend," he said, handing them to her. "They are those sleek front row seats where you will see me up close in action as I cook some magic. I might even sign your jersey after, if I can spot you.”

"Sweet! Thanks," April beamed. "Chris is busy with a lot of stuff, so I'm definitely tagging along with a friend," she said, side-eyeing Skylar. "Doesn't matter if she believes she's too posh for football, because in her words, 'It's a dumb sport.'”

This annoying bitch. "Real subtle, people. I'm still standing right here. Hang on, how do you two know each other?" she asked, looking between them suspiciously. "Please don't tell me he is bribing you with free tickets to serve me up on a silver platter." April glanced at her phone, the device suddenly becoming the most fascinating thing at the party. "April, spill it," Skylar pressed.

"We have a few classes together," West answered, the words flying out of his lips.

"How is that possible? You're a major in sports nutrition. She is a data analytics major."

"Looked up my major, and I'm the stalker?"

"You wish. I know more about you in this football obsessed school than my asshole ex. Every fucking day it's, 'Is Liam the next Tom Brady?' 'Liam's insane college stats.' 'Liam, the favorite to bag the Heisman Trophy this year.' Congrats or whatever, but it's always football, football, and more football. Like nobody's heard of water polo or soccer?" Liam snickered. "Now, that's squashed. How did you guys become besties, West?"

"Okay, she approached me during lunch at 3T Café with my team, and said she needed my help for a research project. I would be her test dummy, and she would assist me in making better informed field decisions. I figured, what the hell, she would get to crunch data collected from our previous games for her paper, and I would make more accurate predictions during games. It's a win-win for everyone.”