Wyatt

"Hey, everyone," Ari shouts, perched precariously on the edge of his truck's tailgate. "I have an announcement to make." He's clutching a beer in one hand and throws his free arm around Mari's shoulders. Mari eyes him as though she'd like to finish the job the Titan running back started earlier. No doubt she's only there for him to keep his toasted ass from toppling off his makeshift stage.

A hush falls over the party, a quiet only someone like Ari can command. Damn, this kid. This better be good.

He smiles sadly, and it's a little lopsided, as his left eye and cheek are swollen and black from his run-in during the game. Of course, being mangled up never kept Ari from a good after party.

"In a startling turn of events," he continues, dropping his chin to his chest and releasing a hefty breath. "I find myself...single." He lifts his head eyeing the crowd, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

The gathering remains silent for a moment, taking in the sobering news.

Then they erupt in an array of cheers and congratulations. I shake my head in disbelief, smiling at the antics of my ridiculous friend.

"Are you kidding me," Mari shrieks, socking her brother in the gut. "You're such a dramatic dickhead. I thought it was serious!" She hops down from the tailgate, leaving a doubled over Ari as she storms toward the beach, Nash hot on her heels.

I think drama may run in the family, but that's just me.

We're gathered at the edge of Bellwood Lake, far enough out of town to avoid finding trouble when we party like this. It's become a favorite North High destination, what with the water, a nice enough beach, and a wooded area not far behind that—all the essentials for a fun-filled evening.

The team started a celebratory bonfire beachside, where people are drinking and dancing to the music blasting from Mark Rushford's pickup. Some of my more adventurous classmates are leaping from the dock into the lake, even though it's October, some fully clothed and others in their skivvies.

A few of my teammates brought portable grills, barbecuing hot dogs and hamburgers since we're all starving after what turned out to be a hell of a game. Everyone's a bit worse for wear, but it'd take a lot more than some busted lips and broken noses to keep us from celebrating a homecoming victory.

I make my way over to Ari, who's surrounded by equal parts teammates and fangirls who think they have a chance with his two-timing ass now.

"That was some speech," I say, clapping him on the shoulder. I instantly regret it, as my hand is sore from all the avenging punches I was throwing.

He shrugs. "I mean, we all knew it was gonna be over between Anna and me sooner or later. Time to move on, right boys!" he shouts, earning him another round of whoops and applause.

I can tell he's devastated.

"Right," I say, tapping my water bottle against his beer. "Cheers. To freedom," I add. "How 'bout some ice for that shiner on your face?"

"On it," he says, turning to find a beaming Juliette Ellington with a Ziploc full of ice in hand. "Thanks, baby!" he drawls, tossing her a smirk that seems to melt her sweet pining heart.

Seriously?

"Yeah, so I'm gonna go grab some food," I say, stifling a laugh. These girls will never learn. "Want me to grab you anything?"

"Nah, I'm all set," Ari says grinning, nodding subtly toward Juliette.

Ahh, yes. Time to celebrate his newfound singleness.

"Wyatt!"

"Oh, hey Rachel," I say, as she launches into me, knocking me back a step or two. She throws her arms around me in a strangling hug.

"Congratulations on your big win!" she says, pulling away and smiling widely. "Let's take a walk."

We wander a few dozen yards toward the tree line. Rachel looks cute, dressed in a tiny pink skirt and tank top. She leans against a sizeable maple tree, crossing her boot-clad ankles.

Rachel is my spirit sister. In other words, she's the girl who's been assigned to me to write uplifting notes and bake me cookies before my games. Everybody on the team has one, but some of them take things a little...further than notes and cookies.

I think she'd like to, too. And I wouldn't necessarily be opposed. Rachel is a beautiful girl. All of the spirit sisters are. But honestly, not one of them can hold a candle to the only girl I really want.

Still, it's not like that's a possibility.

"OMG, were you scared?" she says, touching my arm innocently. I see the not so innocent intent in her eyes, though.

I laugh, both at her expression and her attempt to seduce me. "It's not like I've never been in a fight before," I say. She smiles uncertainly, furrowing her brow.

What'd I say?

A hand slowly brushes up the length of my spine, coming to rest on my shoulder and sending an involuntary shiver through me.

"New toy?" Colby says cheerfully, a hostile smile tugging at her lips. I've seen this side of her before. It's scary.

And hot as hell.

Rachel better be ready to run for her life.

Colby's fingertips wander lazily over my bicep and down my arm, where she takes my hand. She lifts my arm, wrapping it around her shoulder. I should put a stop to whatever this...this is, but part of me likes it. Damn me.

"He doesn't play for keeps," Colby says in a friendly tone that catches me off guard. "I'm just saving you time, sweetie. Run along!" she chirps, waving her hand in dismissal.

I whip my arm away from her shoulders. Her words are like a bucket of cold water. "What do you think you're doing, Colby?" I say, watching a highly embarrassed Rachel scamper away as fast as her legs will move. "What's your problem?"

She steps in front of me, rolling her eyes. "You don't want anything to do with that, Wyatt. She was Drew Seller's spirit sister last year, and he was a walking STD, sooo..."

"That's not what I'm talking about," I growl, stepping toward her. She retreats, her back biting into the maple tree behind her. "Why all the theatrics? You're taken, remember?"

"Oh, trust me I know. Cole definitely keeps me occupied," she says. I see ice blue fire when her eyes meet mine—a mix of challenge and lust. I know the game she's playing.

Challenge accepted.

I close the distance that remains between us, placing my palm against the tree right next to her head. Mere inches separate our bodies, and I'm wondering just what special brand of stupid I qualify as.

The kind that pushes the limits, I decide.

My free hand traces the length of her form, settling on the flare of her hip. She gasps when my fingers graze over a sliver of bare skin where her shirt's ridden up.

What in the hell am I doing?

"He...he's taking me to homecoming tomorrow," she says quietly, hooking her index fingers in the belt loops of my jeans.

"Is that so?" I ask, leaning my face toward hers, my nose skimming the length of her jaw.

She sighs, tugging my hips flush with hers and all my senses flare to life. She smells like memories, and her skin feels like silk beneath my fingers. My body's begging for a taste of the mint Chapstick I know she's wearing on her lips.

Kiss her! my subconscious screams, and dammit, I want to.

"Do you miss this?" I breathe into her ear.

"N-n-no," she stammers, trembling.

I close my eyes, and for just a moment I pretend she's still mine.

"Good," I say, finally assembling the willpower it takes to shove myself away from her. I don my most charming smile and wink. "Me neither. See ya later, B."

And with that, I turn and walk away, leaving all of my regrets hanging in the space between us.