Chapter 28
CADE
Wexley University
BELLA: So, do you want to maybe come to a Trifecta practice next week?
That’s the text that did it. Now I’m here. Front row. Sitting beside about twenty chicks and fifty other guys ranging from jocks, all the way to Wall Street interns, to a guy I’m pretty sure was in my sculpting class last year.
I shift in my seat, arms crossed, trying to act like I belong. Like this is normal. Like I’m not lowkey sweating under my damn henley.
Because I know exactly why I’m here. She invited me.
And that should feel innocent, friendly even. But it doesn’t.
Not when I see her walk in, all legs and fire and confidence in a tiny purple sports bra with BELLA across her chest. Her black shorts say TRIFECTA, same as the ones on Haley and Ellie.
The rest of the Legacy girls wear basic black. Their tops say LEGACY, not their names. I guess The Trifecta gets their own personalized gear.
Some guy is helping Bella stretch. I try not to stare, but of course I do. So does everyone else.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I glance up. Cal and August.
Of course.
“I was invited.”
Cal scoffs. “Fuck right you were.”
“Bella invited me.”
That shuts him up. For exactly one second.
August barks a laugh. “No fucking way.” He claps once, loud enough that one of the Legacy girls turns and glares. “Dude, I thought you were joking when you said that shit back at Cinco.”
Cal’s head whips toward him. “What shit?”
August grins like he’s just pulled the pin on a grenade and can’t wait to watch it blow us to pieces.
“Your brother and his Russian boytoy are on the hunt for a third. Apparently, they’ve got their sights set on Bella.”
Cal jerks like he’s been punched. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope,” August says, way too pleased. “Looks like your brother’s trying to make it a full-blown throuple.”
I grind my teeth, ignoring the heat rising in my chest. I know that look on Cal’s face.
The same look he used to get back when Bella would curl up on the couch with me during family movie nights.
The same look he had when we were in high school and she showed up drunk to a house party, and I was the one she texted for help.
The same look he gave me in Nashville.
Cal shakes his head slowly, voice low. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” I say simply. “And I’m not here to fight, Cal.”
His jaw flexes. “You know I’ve always liked her.”
I nod once. “I know.”
“So what, now you want her too?”
“Just drop it, Cal.”
His laugh is sharp, bitter. “You always say that. You always try to take what’s mine.”
I meet his eyes. “I didn’t know she was yours.”
“She’s not, but that doesn’t mean you get to swoop in like—”
“I’m not swooping in.” I cut him off.
“Then what are you doing, Cade?”
“Trying not to lose her,” I say quietly.
Before Cal can fire back or throw a punch, Coach Javi’s voice cracks across the gym like a man on a mission.
“Thank you all for coming,” he says, his Latin accent smooth and charismatic. He’s standing mid-court with a clipboard and one dramatic hand raised.
Cal’s mouth opens again but I shoot him a glare.
“Later,” I mutter.
“I see some familiar faces this week.” He throws a pointed wink toward Cal and August and then to a few of the basketball boys sitting nearby. “Football gods, Order royalty, and resident heart-breakers. Welcome back, gentlemen.”
Cal leans back in his seat, arms crossed, staring right at the girl of my dreams. August raises his beer like it’s a toast.
“And some new faces,” Javi continues, letting his gaze sweep over the rest of the bleachers, then pauses right on me. “Welcome, welcome. Consider yourselves lucky. Not everyone gets to witness greatness up close.”
There’s a ripple of laughter from the crowd. I manage a tight smile.
Javi flips to a new page on his clipboard and clicks his pen like it’s a weapon. “We are The Wexley Legacy. And this—” he gestures to the floor where Bella, Ellie, and Haley are now in formation, their matching sets practically glowing under the lights “—is The Trifecta.”
Coach Javi claps once, sharp and commanding. “Alright, Knox. You know what to do.”
Knox steps up to the center with that easy, cocky grin of his. He’s got his laptop under one arm, mic in the other, and somehow manages to look like both a DJ and a cult leader.
“Ladies,” he drawls into his mic, “and fellow Wolves, welcome to the official Wexley Legacy rehearsal.” A pause, dramatic and full of swagger. “But more importantly, as Javi said, welcome to The Trifecta.”
The crowd hoots. Cal and August fist bump like jackasses. I just shift in my seat, trying to look casual.
Knox grins. “Now, let’s set the tone. Problem Child?”
Bella steps forward, black shorts hugging her hips, that purple sports bra doing things to me I’m not proud of. Her ponytail swings with each step, but it’s her eyes that lock me in place.
She’s not the same girl from Cinco de Mayo. She’s different now, sharper. Fierce. Like she walked through hell and came back colder, meaner, and untouchable. There’s power in her now. Not the showy kind. The kind that makes the room hold its breath.
“Okay,” she says, smile sharp, voice clear. “We’re here to dance, to practice, and to kick ass at Worlds. But that doesn’t mean we don’t get to have a little fun.”
Ellie and Haley fall in behind her, matching energy like it’s choreographed, which knowing them, it probably is.
“You’ll see us dance. Sing. Lip sync. And yeah,” she smirks, eyes skimming the front row, “there’ll be a few chairs.”
“Woo!” August yells like he’s at a strip club.
“Not you, Augie.”
The gym explodes in laughter, August included. She spins slowly, making sure she’s got the room’s attention.
She does.
“Now. If you’re lucky enough to be picked for a chair dance, there are rules.” Her voice sharpens. “We touch you. You don’t touch us.”
Instant silence.
“And if you break that rule or make any of us uncomfortable, Josh, Drake, and Sam—” she points toward the three guys now stretching behind the group “—will take you out.”
“Literally,” Ellie adds sweetly.
Cal lets out a low laugh. “Harsh.”
Bella raises an eyebrow. “Not harsh, baby. Policy.”
“Alright, ladies,” Knox calls out, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Let’s start the night off sexy.”
He raises one hand like a ringmaster calling in the lions. “With a chair!”
Cheers, whistles, and a few oh shits break out from the guys in the row behind us.
Knox chuckles into the mic. “Y’all asked for it.”
One of the freshman dancers rushes forward, dragging a single black chair and places it dead center like it’s a throne. The room hums with anticipation.
Knox grins like the devil himself. “Alright, gentlemen… who wants the first chair today?”
Shouts, whistles, and half the football team practically is jumping out of their sneakers. It’s chaos, competitive, testosterone-fueled chaos.
Knox laughs. “Damn. Y’all are thirsty.”
Then he turns toward the front row. “Callum Whitmore,” he calls out like it’s already decided.
Cal throws an arm around my shoulder and leans in. “Maybe next time, bro,” he says with that cocky quarterback grin I loathe so much.
He struts to the chair like its game day and he’s already won. He drops into the seat, legs spread wide, and grins at Bella like he’s waiting for dessert.
“Cal,” she says, voice sugary-sweet. “You know the rules. Shirts off. Now.”
Cal stands, turns to face the crowd, and rips his shirt off in one dramatic motion. He tosses it back toward the bleachers where three girls nearly get into a fistfight catching it.
August leans in, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “So much for your throuple. Maybe next time, Whit.”
I’m still trying to decide whether I’m going to murder August or just let Lex do it for me when Knox glances my way and winks.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is your whole family here, bro?” He points at me. “Let’s get the other Whitmore out here!”
I stand up.
“And Augie? What the hell, man. Come on down.”
August jumps up, strips his shirt off, and whoops like he just won the damn lottery. Two freshmen sprint out with more chairs. They set them up beside Cal’s.
Knox claps his hands and points like he’s a game show host. “Whit twin, you sit in the middle here. Shirt off man, it’s the rules.” He pats the other chair, “August, you’re here.”
Bella starts walking. Slow. Lethal. Perky breasts practically spilling out of that purple sports bra. Head tilted, eyes locked on me, smile playing at the corner of her mouth like she already knows how this ends.
She’s not just teasing. She’s hunting. And I know, without a doubt, she did this on purpose.
Beside me Cal looks like he’s about to rupture a blood vessel.
The King of The Row, dethroned in real time.
August leans back like he’s watching the world’s hottest soap opera, smirking like the chaos is his personal gift.
“Okay, boys. You know the rules.” Bella paces in front of us like a general before war. “Hands behind your back. No touching. Just enjoy the ride.”
She catches my eye and gives a small nod to Knox.
“Let’s give them a show.”
I don’t even register the song. Something Latin, maybe. Fast. Hypnotic. Seductive as hell. But the truth is, I’m not listening to the music. I’m watching her.
They move together, Legacy and Trifecta in perfect sync. A masterpiece of motion, hips, legs, and torsos folding and unfolding like silk. Like someone painted lust and power into human form and hit play.
Then she turns and her eyes lock on mine. Bella walks up, sets her hands on my shoulders, and lowers herself onto my lap like it’s her home.
I’m gone.
Utterly, completely done for. The weight of her, the heat of her, the curve of her spine as she arches her back. This isn’t a dance. It’s a spell.
That smile. God, that smile. All fire and mischief and something deeper, something meant just for me. I could paint it a million times and never catch it as beautiful as the real thing.
And in this moment, I believe she can ruin me. Hell, maybe I want her to.
When the music cuts and she rises, it feels like being yanked from a dream I never want to wake from. I drag in a breath and can’t help but think that Lex would fucking love this.
Knox’s voice cuts through the haze. “Alright! How about that first chair, huh?”
The crowd cheers.
“Thank you, boys. You can return to your seats… or if you need a few minutes to adjust we can do that too.”
Cal grumbles something under his breath beside me. I don’t hear it. I’m too busy watching her walk away.
We’re back in our seats, the buzz still crackling in the air like static. Cal’s fuming, arms crossed like he’s seconds from punching a wall. August keeps laughing under his breath, nursing whatever is left in his beer.
From behind me, a hand claps my shoulder. “You lucky bastard,” some guy mutters. I don’t even turn. I can’t. Because Bella’s back out there and this time, it’s not a chair routine.
It’s something different. The music is slower, darker, like honey over a knife’s edge. The lights drop, shadows stretching across the floor.
The entire Legacy team moves like one body, but my eyes find her instantly. She’s telling a story and I don’t know the plot, but I do know that I’d follow it anywhere. It’s beauty, yes. But it’s more than that. It’s grief.
Lust.
Rage.
Power.
My phone buzzes.
LEX: How’s the show, babe?
ME: She’s the one, Lex. Trust me.
LEX: The one? You sure about this?
ME: I’m really sure. You’re not here, Lex. You don’t see her. She moves like a reckoning. And when she smiles? Babe, it’s like watching lightning flirt with the sea.
LEX: Jesus Christ. You and your fucking metaphors. Fine. I trust you. Ask her out. Just don’t bring her home until you’re sure. I love you.
After what feels like an entire concert series of routines, Knox finally grabs the mic again, laughing like the smug little shit he is.
“Alright, alright,” he calls out. “Welcome to Legacy. I’m Knox, your humble DJ-slash-hype-man. This is The Trifecta: Bella, Haley, and Ellie. Thank you for coming to watch my girls shake their asses today.”
Chairs scrape and the guys scramble. Half the team looks like they’re about to faint. Cal makes a direct line for Bella. She hugs him tight like they’re close. They are close.
I look away for a second and then she’s in front of me.
“Thanks for coming,” she says, still a little breathless. “What’d you think?”
“That was…” I exhale. “Honestly, that was incredible. You’re a real artist.”
She bites her lip but there’s something softer under it. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from an actual artist like yourself.”
We stand there a second, not quite ready to walk away.
“You want to get coffee sometime?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’ve been dying to ask that.
“Um” she says slowly. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
Behind her, Cal looks like he’s about to commit a felony. August is doing nothing to stop it, too busy laughing his ass off.
But she doesn’t notice. Or maybe she does and doesn’t care.
Either way. It’s a date.