Colby

It's the first time the squad has been together since the Harvest Festival, and I can already hear the whispers as I approach. My hope is to finish out this practice in peace. The girls are all stretching, save Lana, who immediately weaves her way through the throngs of cheerleaders littering the cafeteria floor with Morgan in tow.

With the football team gathered in various drill groups throughout the hallways, gym, and stairwells for an indoor practice, the girls are bound to get a bit more distracted. Outside, we're far enough away from the boys that Coach Williams can keep us reasonably focused. On days like this, we might as well not bother meeting up at all.

As expected, the football players cat-call at us nearly every time they dash by, interrupting us to no end. I don't usually mind, but today I just want to get it over with.

Lana and Morgan reach me, and I decide to remain quiet until they say what's on their minds. I haven't the slightest desire to speak to either one of them after Saturday night, but I know I can't completely ignore their existence until cheer is over. They stand before me for a moment in silence, the remainder of the squad waiting anxiously for the fireworks to begin.

Morgan shifts uncomfortably, while Lana re-braids her platinum extensions. Her attitude is maddeningly breezy, as if she's done nothing wrong. I've not uttered a word, the tension between us palpable. I refuse to speak before they do, and I swear it's like a standoff, the whole thing testing my already minimal patience. I fold my arms, cocking my head expectantly.

Lana rolls her eyes, sighing. "Listen, B," she begins casually. I wait, raising my brows as her eyes shift from wall to wall, avoiding contact with mine. "We shouldn't have said you're pathetic. You're not."

Her apology is forced and doesn't feel even the least bit genuine. Next to her, Morgan scoffs.

"We didn't say anything, Lana. That was all you," Morgan says, earning a searing glare from Lana. Morgan returns her daggers in unrelenting fashion before continuing. "I'm sorry for my part throughout the week though, B. I really am." She has the sense to look contrite, her gaze dropping to the floor before her.

Lana purses her lips, staring off into the distance. The ire she's managed to harness threatens to snap, her body trembling with anger.

"Anyway," she persists, dragging out the word. "I shouldn't have said that to you, and I'm sorry." She refuses to look at me, which tells me everything I need to know. Her words are simply to pacify me.

"What about Wynn?" I demand.

Lana laughs, finally having the nerve to meet my eyes. "Pretty sure everything I said about her was accurate," she says in defiance. "I guess I shouldn't have called her a boyfriend stealer, though... Well, technically she was, seeing as Cole knocked her up while the two of you were having your little fling."

Morgan gapes at Lana, and a wave of profanities and gasps of shock flow forth from our teammates, their feelings mirroring my thoughts exactly.

"You know, Lana," I begin, weighing my words carefully. "You've made it clear from the start that you don't know the meaning of loyalty, but Wynn has been there for me through some of the darkest things a person can face. I'm not about to abandon her when she needs me the most. Your obligatory apology means nothing to me until you realize that you were way out of line on both counts."

She huffs, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. "I take it back anyway," she spits. "I don't need this shit." Flipping her braid behind her slender shoulders, she stalks off in a fury.

"Don't let the door hit your flat ass on your way out," Bethany Kimble mutters, folding her body over the length of her legs in another stretch. Hoots and snickers of ascent rise all around us. I'd be an idiot to believe that they haven't been soaking in every word we've spoken. It's nice to know that they seem to have taken Wynn's side, at least.

"Lana may not be sorry, but I feel awful," Morgan mumbles, lowering her voice, and somehow, I don't doubt her sincerity. "I never should've said anything to her about seeing Wynn, especially considering I was out with Garrett," she adds, tears glistening in her pale blue eyes. "I'd be devastated if someone exposed us the way I did Wynn. I knew Lana wouldn't keep it to herself. Hell, she's more of a gossip than I am, but of course I told her anyway. I'm so sorry."

"I accept your apology, but Wynn's really the one you need to talk to," I say, bridging my arm over my head. "I can't imagine how she must be feeling, and having the entire school find out certainly didn't help."

She nods solemnly, mimicking my actions. I know her words are heartfelt, but I can't let her off the hook so easily. Besides, it's not my place to accept an apology for an offense made against Wynn.

The one and only consolation in all of this is that practice shouldn't be as painful with Lana gone.

Throughout practice, I'm repeatedly approached by the girls telling me how wrong all of this has been. Most of them are really sweet, and I'm pleased that they realize how horribly Wynn was treated.

Even though cheer wasn't as disastrous as I'd feared it would be, I'm relieved when Coach decides to call it a few minutes early, due to short attention spans. I whip my phone out of my backpack, dialing Wynn.

"Hey," she answers before I've even heard one complete ring. "You coming?"

"Yeah," I say. "We just finished practice. Meet you for ice cream in ten?"

"I'm already here," she says, crunching on something as she speaks, bringing a smile to my face as I hang up. She told me that ice cream has been her only craving so far. Looks like she couldn't wait to get started.

"Was that Wynn on the phone?" Morgan inquires nervously, and I nod. "Can I please come with you?" she pleads. "I really need to talk to her, and I know she won't answer if I try to call or text. Please?"

"Fine," I say. "But you know she's not going to be happy when she sees you." Morgan swallows hard, yet I see she's determined to see this through.

We hop into my Jeep together, since Lana was Morgan's ride today. Once inside, she detonates, tears flowing endlessly down her cheeks as she sobs into her hands.

"Morgan?" I say, and she glances at me with glassy eyes.

"I know exactly how Wynn feels," she cries. "Lana's gonna blab about Garrett and me now, I just know it. It's a consequence of siding with Wynn, but...I still knew that was the right thing to do."

"Wow," I say, the realization of what she's put on the line by supporting Wynn smacking me in the face. "You don't know that."

"No, I don't," she sniffles, struggling to regain control of her wild emotions. "But I have shit on her, too. I can fight fire with fire." She smiles wickedly as her plan of attack takes form, and I can't help giggling.

"I'll bet you do," I agree, and I don't doubt it for a moment. Lana will have met her match in Morgan if she ever chooses to take the fight to her.

When we pull up to the ice cream shop, I see Wynn through the window, biting off chunks of an enormous waffle cone. Her ice cream is nearly finished. The quaint little ice cream parlor is light and bright, feeling like something straight out of the fifties. The pale yellow and white striped walls make it feel like the sun came back out, creating a stark contrast to the gray, storming sky outside.

A bell rings as Morgan and I walk through the door, and a kid I recognize from school rushes out to greet us. He serves up a double scoop of cookies and cream for me, and a triple of cookie dough for Morgan. We grab our orders and take a seat at the heart-shaped metal table next to Wynn.

"What's she doing here?" Wynn groans, pointing at Morgan with the remains of her ice cream cone.

"I came because I want to tell you how sorry I am," Morgan begins cautiously. She pokes at her ice cream with the tip of her spoon, and Wynn eyes it with envy.

"So, at least you realize it's all your fault," she says harshly, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table before her.

Morgan nods, and the tears from earlier return to her eyes. "All my fault, Wynn. But I'm here for you, no matter what."

"Fine," Wynn relents. "I honestly don't have the energy to be mad at you anymore. Give me a bite of your cookie dough, and I'll forgive you."

Morgan smirks, sliding her ice cream cup across the table toward Wynn.

"Have you talked to Cole at all?" I ask, and Wynn sighs, shaking her head.

"I think the avoidance has been mutual," she replies. "The other night was awful, and I wouldn't want to talk to me either if I were him. I just..." She trails off, taking another bite of Morgan's ice cream. "I really miss him."

"I didn't know you guys were actually friends," Morgan admits. "I thought your families hated each other."

I did, too. The truth is, I'm genuinely stunned by what has transpired. I knew Wynn and Cole got along, but I had no idea how deep and real their connection was.

"They do," Wynn confirms, rolling her eyes. "And they probably always will. It doesn't matter now, though. I've ruined everything." Her lip trembles, and she shakes her head. "He tried so hard. He said he wanted to be with me, but I always turned him down because I didn't want to let him in. Now I've messed it all up."

"You guys can fix it," I say, and I believe it.

Tears fill her eyes then, and Wynn never cries. It hurts my heart watching her struggle.

"Maybe he just needs a little time," Morgan adds, and Wynn leans back in her chair hopelessly.

"I hope that's all he needs," she says sadly. She sniffles, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes.

"I got a glimpse of his good side," I add, smiling in encouragement. "I don't think he's the type of guy to let someone like you slip away. Keep trying, Wynn."

"I will," she says, sighing and fidgeting with her purse. "I'm sorry," she adds. "I know y'all just got here, but I better get going. I've been falling behind in some classes. I have a lot of work to catch up on."

Sure.

I remember this Wynn. The one who runs when things get emotional and tense. I haven't seen her this way in a long time— she has a tough exterior and a callous manner, but she feels deeply and hurts in kind. This situation is going to take time.

"I'll let you finish my ice cream if you give me a ride home," Morgan says, circling her half-eaten container of cookie dough under Wynn's nose.

"Deal," Wynn agrees, taking the cup from her hands.

We wave our goodbyes, heading separate ways. I drive away from our get together feeling oddly at peace. Of course, my heart aches for Wynn, thinking about what she's facing right now without Cole standing by her side. I believe he'll come around eventually, but in the meantime, I can't help but contrast their circumstances with my own.

I'm not alone, and Wyatt's so much more than I deserve.

Instead of going home, I pull into the Matheson's driveway right as Wyatt's climbing out of his rusty pickup. When he sees me approach, a breathtaking grin spreads across his face.

"Hey, darlin'," he says when he reaches my side, kissing me before he helps me out of my Jeep. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I just missed you," I say. We make our way to the front door, and I wrap my arms around his neck while he fumbles with his keys. He unlocks the door, and a mischievous smirk covers his face.

"Missed you, too," he says, sweeping me into his arms before crossing the threshold. I gasp, giggling as he bounds through the doorway. "A lot."

My eyes meet his and my pulse quickens automatically. There are so many unspoken words hovering in the back of my mind. Thoughts of my gratitude for him, my love, my devotion. They'd be so easily spoken.

But I'd rather show than tell.

I take his face between my palms, brushing my lips against his. His response is instantaneous, his mouth crashing into mine. I tighten my arms around his neck, desperate to be closer as he moves further into the dark house, making his way toward the couch.

"No," I breathe, nodding down the hall.

He groans against my lips in response, redirecting our path to his bedroom where he kicks his door shut behind us. He releases me onto his bed, trapping me between his arms and dropping torrid kisses along my collarbone, working his way up my neck. When his warm breath tickles my ear, I shiver even though I'd swear I'm on fire.

My hands slide underneath his shirt, skimming over his bare skin before he pushes himself to his knees, removing his shirt entirely. My pulse thrums chaotically at the sight of him, and I know without question that I need more.

I lace my fingers behind his neck drawing him back down to me, his body pressing firmly into mine, sending my desire for him into overdrive. He flicks his tongue against my mouth, tugging my lower lip when he catches it between his teeth. I push him off of me, rolling him onto his back and straddling his narrow hips.

I kiss him with an urgency I've never before experienced, a thirst that can't be quenched by this alone. I sit up, slipping my tank off. His eyes are glued to me, taking in my every movement and curve. His strong hands wander from my hips up to my bare waist, my skin blazing at his touch.

We're both breathless, our mouths colliding once more, feverishly devouring this moment. His tongue slides over mine, and my hands shake as they graze the length of his perfectly sculpted frame. I find the band of his pants, pushing the fabric lower until Wyatt's hand catches mine.

"B," he groans.

"I don't wanna waste any more time, Dodge," I whisper against his lips, my body pleading for more of him.

He kisses me again, slowly this time, regret filling his dark eyes. "I don't either, but I won't mess this up again." He sighs, his long fingers brushing over my ribs and coming to rest on my backside. He looks pained to say it, and I can feel his need for me pulling at him as frantically as my own. "I had dinner with Cole tonight, and he and Wynn are so screwed up. He loves her, but they can't even face one another."

I roll off of him, propping myself on my elbow. "Well, that's like a bucket of ice water," I mumble, tracing his abs with my fingertips.

"I'm not ready to be a daddy," he says, giving me a meaningful look, and I smile shyly.

"We did almost go there," I admit.

"Hell, yeah. And damn, if I don't want to..." he says, grinning like a fiend. "I just need to know I'm not gonna lose you, 'cause I know I can't do that again. Someday I'm gonna have to make you mine for good." He wraps his arms tightly around me, kissing my temple.

"Promise?"

He lifts his hand, extending his pinky. I hook my pinky around his, laughing.

"Promise."