Chapter 8
Watching Presley play football might have made me fall for him even more than I already had.
My throat was hoarse from screaming his name with Arena, and my feet were sore from standing on them nearly the entire time Pres was on the field. My mother had told me off and insisted I behave with more decorum a total of four times already, but I didn’t care.
Presley was amazing out there.
He ran with so much speed and drilled the ball through the air with precision. I could see why he loved it. He amped the crowd between plays and danced like a damn fool when he scored a touchdown, but all of it made my chest swell with pride when he did it.
He was incredible.
So it was a shame Byron didn’t appreciate any of it.
The first thirty minutes of the game he spent politely clapping and calling out encouragement to Pres, with my mother sitting dotingly at his side, but that was only because a trio of photographers had been snapping photos.
Kesia oversaw the whole event, making sure everyone behaved as they should. Gia was with her, but she was less interested in what was happening with Byron and my mother. Her eyes were glued to Presley out on the field, her face lighting up whenever Presley touched the ball.
A possessive kind of annoyance filled me like a slowly overflowing cup.
He wasn’t hers to gawk at. He was mine. They all were. And while they might be willing to share me with each other, I wasn’t willing to share them with anyone.
The moment Kesia and Gia had left, taking the photographers with them, Byron had become completely disinterested in Presley’s game. He’d sat with his head in his phone, only glancing up if my mother or one of his staffers spoke to him.
I was quietly seething on the inside. And I was determined to call him out for it.
Leaning over, I went to reach for my mother to tap her shoulder and get her attention, but the brush of Dacre’s hand on my leg from where he sat beside me made me pause.
Dropping to my seat, I gave him a questioning look.
“It’s not worth it,” Dacre said. “You won’t get the response you’re looking for, and engaging with him will only increase your frustration.”
I studied him, a sense of sadness filling me. That wasn’t the way a son should talk about his father. And what Byron had done for most of this game wasn’t how a father was supposed to act either.
“Presley’s right to hate him,” I said, glaring at Byron at the other end of our row. “You all are.”
Presley, Dacre, and Sinclair had so much to offer this world, which meant Byron had so much to be proud of when it came to his sons. Yet he treated them like toys in his political games.
I needed to step away and take a breather before I did something stupid like punch Byron in the mouth and bring my entire life crashing to the ground. I may have a deep disdain for both Byron and my mother, but right now I had to play by their rules to keep a roof over my head and tuition for CCU.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said flatly, getting to my feet.
“You want me to come with?” Arena asked, but I shook my head.
“I’ll be fine. Be right back.”
Thankfully there was no one in the bathroom, probably because the game was a nail-biter, and still very much in progress.
I used the silence to pull myself together.
Presley, Sinclair, and Dacre had been dealing with Byron’s trash behavior for years.
They definitely hadn’t become immune to it, but they’d learned to manage the hurt he inflicted with his actions. I had to learn to do that too.
Wandering back in the direction of my seat, Trenton cut me off and I stumbled to a stop. I was still afraid of him after the way he’d attacked me as I left the locker room at the pool all those months ago.
“Look at that, my favorite Aston falling at my feet where you belong.”
His usual two minions snickered as they continued by us, but Trenton blocked my path. Staring up into his smug face physically pained me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see that he rankled me.
“Is there something you need?” I asked, forcing politeness into my tone.
He smirked. “I need you to stop being such a selective little whore and ride my dick again.”
I gagged, fighting the vomit at the back of my throat.
Trenton moved in closer, attempting to back me into the wall, but I wouldn’t be caught out in that position with him again. Last time it had resulted in his hands wrapped around my throat.
I side-stepped him, shaking my head. “That’s never going to happen, Trenton. Let it the fuck go.”
His eyes narrowed at me, fists clenching at his sides like he wanted to hurt me, but he knew he’d never get away with it in such a public place.
“No girl has ever rejected me like this. Who do you think you are? Some kind of special pussy because you’re the lowest member of the Aston family?”
I pressed my lips together, choosing my words carefully so I didn’t anger him, but also proving to him that I wasn’t the kind of girl that would bow to him either.
“I will never fuck you again.” I moved in closer like I was going to share a secret, and maybe I was.
“For no other reason than it was the shittiest lay of my life. I’ve never been with a guy so truly incapable of locating the clit.
If I had cared about you at all, I would have had to tell you to stop moaning and pumping for two seconds so I could give you an anatomy lesson.
So maybe check your ego, do your fucking homework on the workings of a woman’s body, and get the hell out of my way. ”
Ignoring his surprised and enraged expression, I side-stepped him again, hurrying back to my seat between Dacre and Arena.
“We thought you might have fallen in,” Arena said, fighting back a laugh.
“I got held up by everyone’s least favorite entitled asshole.”
Dacre’s eyes narrowed because he knew exactly who I meant.
Arena gagged. “Trenton fucking DeGrossi?”
I nodded, my heart still pounding after my run-in with him. I held a hand out to Arena. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.” She pulled it from her purse and placed it into my waiting hand. “Can I borrow your online dating profile too?”
Dacre shifted in his seat beside me, but he had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t about to go trawling dating apps for other dudes. It was merely time for a little payback.
Arena gave me a quizzical laugh. “Yeah… sure…”
Fighting a smile, I opened up the app, tapping to edit her bio. Then I opened her phone contacts, scrolling until I found the number I was looking for. Going back to the dating bio, I posted the number.
Dacre leaned in to see what I was doing, chuckling as I typed: ‘Show me what you got, big boys’ followed by Trenton’s number, not Arena’s.
I handed the phone back to her and she stared down at it, reading what I’d done.
She tipped her head back and laughed. “I hope Trent enjoys unsolicited dick pics.”
The man in question appeared at the other end of the stand to return to his seat. His phone must have buzzed in his pocket, because he stopped to take it out, his eyes widening at the message he’d just received.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed.
The three of us broke into laughter.
“Wow, the internet works fast,” Arena said, her delight at Trent’s fate evident.
“But Dempsey works faster,” Dacre added with a note of pride.
I shrugged. “He needs to learn the consequences of his asshole behavior.”
Dacre squeezed my hand in agreement, our attention turning back to the game.
The CCU quarterback called the play and caught the snap.
The players broke apart, receivers running down the field.
My breath caught in my throat as the QB sent a perfect spiral to Pres, who caught it and ran.
Three defenders chased after him, but he disposed of all of them one after another, barrelling into the endzone and slamming down the ball.
The crowd erupted around us, Arena and I hugging as we jumped up and down. Presley played up to the crowd, shaking his hips. Then he stopped and pointed up at us.
At me.
My chest swelled and I bit my bottom lip. He was so hot like this. So carefree and playful.
When I glanced down the row, my mother and Byron clapped politely, before Byron looked back at his phone, his expression pinching with annoyance.
He leaned across my mother to get Dacre’s attention. “I just received a text from Sinclair. He’s not coming. It’s one thing to miss the photo opportunity, it’s another to have it reported that he didn’t attend at all.”
Dacre shrugged. “Not sure what you expect me to do about that, Byron. I’m not Sin’s daddy.”
Byron’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t bite back. He straightened, my mother putting a placating hand on his arm for support.
I smiled to myself, internally celebrating. Not coming at all was Sinclair’s ‘fuck you’ to their father.
Arena leaned in on my other side, drawing my attention back to the field. “Girl, your stepbrothers are so fine.” She nodded towards the field. “How do you live down the hall from that…” She paused, nodding in Dacre’s direction. “...or that, and not dream about riding them every other night?”
I choked on a cough, startled by her accuracy.
I knew a few months ago that she’d suspected something was happening between me and Presley, but she’d never asked me about it.
She wasn’t exactly asking now either, and I was in no position to tell her given Byron’s bid for Governor, so I had to play the role that was expected of me.
Lying to my best friend was a shitty feeling, but it was to protect all of us.
“Because our parents are married.”
She scrunched up her nose. “They’ve been married for all of five minutes. It’s not like you grew up together.”
I shrugged, unwilling to lie to her any further.
She shook her head. “You have more self-control than me. I’d be in his bed faster than he could say ‘want to cuddle?’”