Twenty-Four
Stacy
The blood hasn’t left my cheeks since Friday night.
I’ve been a blushing mess full of anxiety and sexual frustration.
I feel like a teenager again. I even have an embarrassingly large hickey on my collarbone, a hickey that I’ve tried and failed to cover up with concealer for Monday morning practice.
Luckily, no one noticed Saturday at our game due to the neckline of our cheer uniform, but in my sports bra I’m pretty much screwed.
Maybe no one will notice. Maybe no one will look hard enough at my collarbone to see it. It’d be weird for anyone to notice, right?
“Um, not to sound like an idiot, but did you hook up with someone this weekend? Who the fuck sucked on your chest like that?” Mae blurts as soon as I walk into the gym. Much too loud, I might add.
My cheeks flush and I catch Reece’s gaze out of the corner of my eye as he chats with Drew, Christina, and Jamie. He shoots me a subtle wink without stopping his conversation and my insides churn .
Cocky prick.
What the hell kind of practice was that anyway? I know I was the one who suggested it but Jesus, that wasn’t a rehearsal. That was a whole damn performance. A performance that left me flustered, confused, and reaching for my vibrator.
“I didn’t hook up with anyone,” I tell Mae, my eyes snapping away from Reece and back to her.
She raises a brow. “Stace, you’re a terrible liar.”
I sigh, looking around as more of our team filters into the gym. I lower my voice and take a step closer to Mae. “Okay. I didn’t sleep with anyone. I just…” I glance around again, my gaze landing on a very cool, calm, and collected looking Reece.
How is he so zen? Is his mind not running in circles? How can it not be?
Unless of course Friday night really was just an act to him. If that’s the case, he deserves a goddamn Oscar.
Mae’s eyes follow mine and find Reece. Her gaze widens as she snaps her head back to me, gasping, “Stacy Renee, what the hell did you do with Reece Taylor?”
I gape at my best friend, trying to formulate a defense. “ Nothing ,” I hiss. “Well, okay, not nothing, but it was strictly pretend. Acting. You know, for our fake relationship.”
“In what situation did you have to convince your family that you two are dating by letting him eat your collarbone?”
I roll my eyes, beginning to stretch my arms over my chest. “We just kissed. A couple times, but we don’t have a choice. We have to be physical with each other. To make it convincing, you know?”
Mae stares at me, dumbfounded, before bending over to stretch out her calves. “I don’t know why you ever thought this was a good idea. ”
“It is a good idea,” I insist. “It’s working out great. My family loves Reece and when he goes with me to family stuff, I feel like I can breathe. Plus, he needs my help. It’s mutually beneficial, okay?”
She snorts. “Whatever. I’ll be waiting patiently for the inevitable declaration of romantic feelings.”
“You’re crazy. It’s all fake. Nothing real will ever happen between us.”
Because nothing real can happen. We’re teammates after all and it’d be too messy. Not to mention, boys are a distraction.
Competition.
Cheer.
Nationals.
A damn plan for post-grad life.
Those are the things I should be focusing on. Not Reece Taylor or his annoyingly big hands or his devastatingly soft lips.
“Dunn! Want to come throw a couple practice cupie’s real quick?” Reece shouts from across the gym, almost like my train of thought is summoning him.
I swallow down the strange nerves in my stomach and give him a curt nod.
Mae makes a strangled laughing noise from beside me but I ignore her, steeling my spine and crossing the mats to get to Reece.
He’s got that stupid, cocky grin on his face, as always, eyeing me with curiosity and a little bit of awe.
It’d probably help my heart palpitations if he didn’t look at me like a piece of artwork all the damn time.
“Happy Monday, angel,” he murmurs as I reach him.
I roll my eyes, propping my hands up on my hips. “You know how I feel about that nickname when we’re not around family.”
He taps his chin, the shit-eating grin still plastered across his face as he pretends to deliberate. “Hm. You didn’t seem to mind that nickname Friday night.”
My cheeks flush as something ignites in my stomach. It’s embarrassment, lust, but it’s something else too.
It’s anger. I’m pissed that Reece can be so cavalier and I’m mad that he’s taking something that happened between us and making a joke about it. All the reasons why Reece Taylor has always annoyed me are blindingly obvious right now as I narrow my eyes to glare at him.
“That was fake , Taylor,” I remind him, poking his rock-solid chest with my index finger. “Don’t get it twisted.”
He holds his hands up in defense, his smile never faltering. “Hey, I’m not twisting a thing, babe.”
“No babe, either,” I snap, getting in position to throw our stunt.
Reece just chortles from behind me, walking up to place those damn humongous hands on my waist. Why does cheerleading have to be so intimate?
Why couldn’t I have chosen another sport to love?
Softball? Swimming, perhaps? Hell, tennis?
Any sport where touching another very attractive human being isn’t involved.
“Ready?” Reece’s rough voice slithers over my bare shoulder, sending shivers across my skin, across the mark on my collarbone that’s blooming into a beautiful maroon color.
I nod, not trusting my voice, and tense all my muscles as Reece tosses me into the air.
My feet find his hand with what feels like effortless precision for the first time since we became partners and I thrust my arms into the air.
The stunt stays solid for a few seconds, my feet firm in Reece’s hand as I keep my abs tightened.
I hear Reece call a dismount and I find myself back on the ground, Reece’s hands back on my waist. The stunt felt smooth, liquid, like our bodies have finally decided to sync up and not wreak havoc anymore.
Glancing over my shoulder, Reece shoots me a smug grin. “Again?” he suggests.
We run the stunt a couple more times, trying different types of dismounts to add flare to the move. Everything’s hitting the way it did with Jamie, and I would be excited if I wasn’t so damn annoyed with Reece.
“Want to try our dreaded hands to hands?” Reece asks after our fourth successful cupie.
I worry my bottom lip and glance around.
Most of the team is stretching, warming up their own stunts, and the coaches are in the corner in deep discussion while hunched over a phone.
They’re most likely watching our performance from Saturday’s game so we can be reamed and critiqued as per usual, but right now, that’s just fine.
It means they’re distracted, everyone’s distracted, so I won’t have to be embarrassed when the stunt inevitably falls.
“Fine,” I tell him. “But you better catch me, Reece, I swear to—”
“I’ll always catch you, Stace,” he promises. His voice is low, almost a whisper, and the connotation of his words seems far too intimate for our current situation.
I jut my chin up, willing away any and all illicit warm feelings in my chest and prepare for our stunt.
Going into our hands to hands, I’m not confident.
And for good reason, considering it hasn’t stuck once since the season started.
It’s not the most difficult stunt ever, but balancing your hands on someone else’s hands in the air is not necessarily an easy feat.
Nevertheless, I close my eyes and tighten my core, flipping forward as Reece hoists me into the air.
I feel my hands connect with his rough palms as I pull my legs up over my body.
My arms feel shaky but I lock my elbows, holding up my body weight as best I can as I clench my stomach.
Holy shit. I’m not falling. It’s definitely shaky, it’s surely not pretty, but the stunt isn’t falling.
“Quick drop. One, two,” Reece calls, popping me out of the stunt as quickly as he put me there.
I make it steadily to the ground, Reece’s fingers at my hips to slow my descent.
We stare at each other in disbelief for a long second, both of our breathing ragged, before a beaming smile spreads across Reece’s face.
As irritated as I am with him, a faint grin tugs at my own lips as Reece starts to laugh.
“Um, hell yeah, Dunn, we did it!” He holds up his hand for a high five.
I slap my hand to his, resisting the urge to keep my hand up and intertwine our fingers. “We did it once. And it was sloppy.”
“Can’t you be happy?” he huffs. “We’ve been working on that stunt for weeks now and it finally stuck.”
“We’ve got a long way to go,” I tell him, turning towards the bleachers to get a drink before we’re inevitably called to circle up.
Reece catches up to me effortlessly, matching my stride across the gym. “I think you’re just afraid to admit I was right.”
“About what?”
I take a swig of my water, refusing to look over my shoulder at Reece as he speaks. “I told you our bodies just needed to be more connected,” he murmurs.
Water comes out my nose at his response, a vicious cough escaping my lungs as I try not to drown on my sip of water.
I know everyone’s probably staring but my pride isn’t really of concern right now as I hack and hack.
Reece hits my back as I hunch over, getting more of the water out of my chest before I turn to look at him.
I know I look crazy, watery eyes, snotty nose, the works, but Reece just smirks. He always just smirks .
“Pardon?” I say weakly, my throat raw from coughing.
“I mean, I know I suggested sex, but.” He shrugs casually and winks a green eye at me. “Maybe making out a couple times was a good place to start.” He taps the underside of my chin with his finger before trotting back to the cheer mats.
This man is going to be the death of me.
“Dunn. I wanted to talk to you about changing the timing in the first dance sequence of the comp routine,” Propst says, coming up to me with her eyes glued to her clipboard.
She starts to speak but glances up at me, cutting herself off as her eyebrows pull together.
“What the hell happened to your collarbone?”
Okay, maybe I’ll be the death of him.