Tori

After several weeks of being in the spotlight, I’m used to being Bash’s girlfriend. Again. The adjustment was not easy with all the unwanted stares in my direction. Girls can be such jealous bitches when it comes to men. They’re even more vicious when it comes to Bash. But he just shrugs them off, pretending as if they don’t even exist.

Dressed in full uniform and holding his helmet at his side, Bash comes strutting out from the locker room and into the hallway where I’ve been waiting for him for the past ten minutes.

He reaches out to stroke my jaw, cradling my face in his big hand. “There’s my girl.”

I smile and lean in to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens his mouth, parting my lips with his tongue, threading his fingers through my hair as he deepens the kiss. Every time Bash as much as touches my skin, my entire body comes alive. He has always had this effect on me, and now that we’re building something new, the old feelings mix with the new, heightening the sensation of each kiss.

Lost in one another, we’re grabbing at each other’s clothes, ready to get naked in the hallway, when a man clears his throat behind Bash. We still for a second, our lips still locked, and stare into each other’s eyes.

“Get your ass on the field, Prince,” he growls.

Bash turns around to look at his coach and the players now crowding around us. “I had to get my good luck kiss,” Bash says, his tone serious.

His teammates’ laughter fills the hallway. I feel like such an ass that I wish I could click my heels together and disappear. We avoid public displays of affection for this particular reason. Still clinging to my side, Bash tightens his grip on my waist, before giving me one last kiss. In front of everyone. And it’s fucking hot. Like so hot my panties are wet, and I don’t want to pull away, even though I’m somewhat embarrassed.

I have trouble getting my bearings once our lips separate, still high on Bash and wanting more.

“I’ll see you after the game,” Bash says.

I nod and then he walks down the hall with his teammates, toward the entrance to the field. A few minutes pass as I wait for the announcer to welcome the team onto the field. The crowd goes wild, the stadium brought to life and buzzing with energy. I still don’t share the same enthusiasm as my peers when it comes to football, but I have no problem cheering for my man in the stands.

My cell phone dings with a text from Jessica, wanting to know where I am. Walking down the hallway, I type out a quick reply and shove the phone back into my pocket. Once I reach our seats, Jessica throws herself at me, squeezing the life out of me.

“You’re here. I was starting to worry that you wouldn’t show.”

I take my seat next to Jessica and get comfortable on the bench. “Of course, I’m here. Bash would lose his shit if I missed this game. It’s way too important to him.”

Her eyes travel away from me and onto the field. “Clay has been talking about it all week. Those assholes broke Clay’s arm, and they’re the same…”

Even though her voice trails off, I know what she was planning to say. One of the defensive linemen for the Cougars was responsible for Clay’s broken arm but also for what happened between Bash and me. Luckily, Clay healed without any issues and Bash, and I made amends and moved on with our lives.

Bash was so amped for this game that we had sex three times before he left his house today. As always, he was insatiable, but I think all the testosterone and nerves about playing this team were making him even more of a caveman than normal. Jessica holds my hand, giving it a nervous squeeze, as we watch Bash head onto the field for the coin toss. He stares down the dark-haired boy responsible for some of our darker moments. Bash wins the coin toss and chooses to receive the ball from the other team.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Jessica says, tugging at the replica of Clay’s jersey.

I’m wearing the same navy blue and white striped jersey with PRINCE on the back. Bash had insisted that I sport his gear as a show of solidarity for the team. He knows football is still not my thing. It will never be my thing. But at least I’m here, showing my team spirit and cheering on my man.

“Clay will be fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes on the field and the players lining up in formation. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that every game counts from here on out for Clay.”

“The NFL is already interested in him. I’m sure he will have no problem getting drafted when he has Bash in his corner.”

She shifts her weight on the bench and smiles at me. “How cool would it be if we end up with Bash and Clay when they go pro?”

I shrug. “I don’t know about all that.”

“Are you doubting Bash already?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. We need more time to get to know each other better.”

“But you love him, and he’s madly in love with you. I don’t see the problem.”

“You know me better than anyone, Jess. And you, of all people, should know that I am not getting ahead of myself. Last time, I fell so hard for Bash that I couldn’t even function when things went south.”

“You’re just as in love with him this time, if not more,” Jessica interjects.

“Maybe, but it’s different now. Do I love Bash? Yes. I’ve loved him for years. But I also hated him for a long time, too.”

“Way to kill my plans for our future,” she says with a sly grin. “Here I imagined us sitting on the sidelines at their professional games with big, fat rocks on our fingers and all the luxuries that come with being the wife of a professional football player.”

“We already have those perks now, silly. Bash’s trust fund alone is enough to live off for the rest of our lives without lifting a finger.”

“Same for Clay,” Jessica adds. “We scored with these two, huh?”

I nod. “Even more so for me than you. I didn’t come from money like you guys, so I don’t dream of hotel suites at the Ritz Carlton or vacation homes on private islands. My life was more like motel rooms at the Howard Johnson and a trailer on the beach in Ocean City.”

Jessica laughs, shaking her head at me. “Well, get used to it, because from here on out, you will be treated like a queen. Bash will make sure of it.”

“He already does,” I confess, smiling at the thought of my last few weeks with Bash. “Everything is high end. Even the coffees he brings to class for me are fancy.”

He has changed so much that it’s as if I am dating a different person. There are so many sides to Bash. And I love all of them.

“A caramel macchiato is not fancy,” Jessica says.

“Where I come from, coffee is black and served with cream and sugar—not with caramel swirls and foam. And it sure as hell doesn’t cost over five dollars. Who would spend that much money on coffee, anyway?”

Jessica chuckles but doesn’t say anything.

We sit in silence for most of the first quarter, focused on our men. The Strickland Senators are winning by seven points and in possession of the ball. That’s about all I understand from what the announcer and Jessica have relayed because I understand nothing about football other than kick, throw, catch, and score. When it comes to most sports, I have zero interest unless it involves ogling hot men in tight pants. So, yeah, that much I have covered. But, as far as understanding what is going on, that is another story.

Bash and Clay are such a show-offs it’s no wonder the other team was gunning for them. They play so well together, their movements so cohesive. Clay throws the ball to Bash who’s already running down the field, toward the end zone, when he catches it.

Bash is fast, like really fucking fast. He zips down the field, dogging his attackers, and when his foot touches down in the end zone, he slams the ball on the ground and does a victory dance. My God, my boyfriend is such an ass. His team slaps their hands on his helmet, as he walks toward them, congratulating him.

As Bash passes our bench, he looks right at me and winks. I blow him a kiss to show him my appreciation. He’s so damn talented, the kind of person who makes normal people like me sick. Bash is not just model hot, amazing in bed, and a force on the field, he’s also smart as shit.

Unlike Finch and some of the guys on his team, Bash didn’t need a sports scholarship or a tutor to keep up his grades. Jessica is right about us. If things go our way, we will be doing the same thing together, only at a professional game. I’m sure the wives of players sit in the boxes and not down on the field, but still, it would be pretty cool to be the wife of Sebastian Prince.

“What are you smiling about, trailer park trash?” I hear Harper’s scratchy voice that has the effect of nails dragging down a chalkboard before I see the nasty look on her face.

“Beat it, Harper,” Jessica snaps before I have the chance to say something to her. “You just can’t deal with the fact that Bash is with Tori, and that he doesn’t want your skank ass.”

“Tori is nothing more than another one of Bash’s charity cases. He’s with her because he feels sorry for her. She is just an obligation he is fulfilling.”

“Seriously, Harper,” I interject, holding my hand out in front of me to shut her up, “just shut the fuck up already. I am so sick of your lies and games. You may have found ways to manipulate Bash in the past, but you cannot hurt me. Call me trailer park trash or whatever the hell you want because I don’t give a shit what you think about me.”

Harper shoves her hands onto her narrow waist, shifting her weight to her other foot and drawing attention to the short cheerleading skirt that shows off her long, toned legs. Looks wise, Harper is the kind of girl Bash would date. Hell, she’s the type of girl a guy like him would marry. She will make the perfect trophy wife one day. But she is not getting her slutty hands on Bash ever again.

“If you only knew,” Harper says with venom in her voice. “You think Bash is so perfect and honest with you. I bet he won’t tell you his dirty little secret.”

“Everyone knows he’s had sex with you, Harper. You might be dirty, but it’s not a secret.”

She flicks her hair over her shoulder and smirks. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? Well, you won’t be laughing when you find out how you managed to stay at Strick U.”

I glance at Jessica who stills in her seat, her body turning to stone as if she’s in on the secret everyone seems to know.

“What are you not telling me?” I say to Jessica.

She turns her head, biting at the corner of her lip.

I clamp my hand around her tiny biceps and give her arm a jerk to get her attention. “Jess, C'mon. Spill it. What the hell is she talking about?”

Jessica gives me a deflated look. “You should ask Bash. It’s not my place to tell you.”

“No, I want to hear it from you.”

“Go on,” Harper says with a victorious expression on her face. This is what she had wanted, and I fed right into her nonsense. “I can’t wait to hear you tell the story, Jess.”

“I can’t,” Jessica mutters, her eyes moving toward the field and locking onto Bash. “You should hear it from Bash. It’s not my story to tell.”

“Oh, well, if you’re going to be such a buzz kill, Jess, then maybe I should tell you dear old friend,” Harper says. “After all, you have been keeping this from her for almost as long as Bash.”

“Just say it already,” I say to Harper through clenched teeth. “I’m sick of the games.”

“Fine, but you will not like what you hear.”

I hold my hand out. “Go on.”

She bends down, her breasts spilling out from the tight navy uniform. “Have you ever wondered how you were the only student to be awarded the Strickland University Scholarship for Academic Excellence?”

I narrow my eyes at her, confused and wondering where she is going with this. “Not really. I got a scholarship from the school because of my grades.”

“Wrong,” Harper says with laughter in her voice. “There is no such thing as the Strickland University Scholarship for Academic Excellence.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Harper. I have the papers and the money to prove it,” I spit back, defensive.

“If you don’t believe me, go ask anyone in the bursar’s office tomorrow morning. They will tell you the truth. Your scholarship is not real. It does not exist.”

“What is she talking about?” I ask Jessica, beyond frustrated by this conversation.

“You should talk to Bash about this. I don’t want to get the middle.”

The first quarter ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers. One of the cheerleaders calls over to Harper, flagging her down by waving her hand in the air at her with an impatient look on her face.

“Soon, you will find out just how much you do not belong in our world,” Harper says to me.

She walks away before I can come up with something to retort, leaving me with a lot to consider.

“I’m so sorry, Tori. You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” Jessica says with sadness in her voice. “That bitch wants to chase you away so she can have Bash all to herself. Don’t let her get under your skin.”

“What was she trying to tell me? If the scholarship isn’t real, then where is the money coming from?”

“I think you already know where.”

“Bash?” My tone indicates a question more than a statement. “But why? I don’t understand.” I sink my elbows in my thighs and lean forward, using my hands to prop up my head.

“After you went into the hospital and missed all that time from school, you lost your real scholarship.”

“I know, but the school said I was eligible for the one I have now.”

“Only because Bash took care of it.”

“I can’t believe he did this.” There’s so much anger in my voice, my body trembling as I speak.

“Why are you mad at him? What he did was sweet. You treated him like shit for the past two years, and he never once gave up on you. He felt responsible for what happened to you and wanted to make up for it.”

“I am his charity case,” I mutter, sickened by Bash’s betrayal. “You and Bash, of all people, knew how important that scholarship was to me. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work all through high school just to come to Strickland University? My mom went here. She talked about it all the time before she died. So, I did everything in my power to make sure I could graduate from her alma mater.”

“You are graduating this year. Nothing has changed, Tori.”

She reaches out to touch my leg, but I slide to along the bench, away from her.

“Don’t be like that,” Jessica snaps.

Now, we’re both pissed off and in terrible moods.

I push myself up and to a standing, towering over her as I speak the last words I plan to say to her before I leave. “I have nothing left to say to you, Jess. You kept this a secret from me. I thought we were best friends. I trusted you.”

Walking away from Jessica with my hands balled into fists at my sides and my mouth twisted in anger, I try not to cry. The tears are welling in my bottom lids, and it takes every ounce of willpower in my body to fight off the urge to break down in front of everyone. But I won’t. That’s what Harper wants from me. It’s the reason she chose this game to break the news to me. She wants to ruin my relationship with Bash. Harper wants to be the one to comfort him when I’m not there.

Now, she’s winning, because I’m feeding into her plan. But I don’t care. I need to get out of this stadium and back to my dorm, so I can collect my thoughts and figure out my next move. Bash has been paying for me to attend this school. I still can’t get over the news. And there is no way in hell I am going to allow him to continue to foot the bill—even if that means graduating from another school.

My family might be poor, but we are proud. And we don’t take handouts from anyone. A scholarship was one thing, but guilt money is another. I’m so pissed at Bash as I exit the stadium, seething mad and blind with rage. Jessica, Clay, and all of his teammates were all in on the secret. Even that bitch Harper. The betrayal. The lies. Where do we go from here? How can we make this work when our relationship was founded on secrets and lies?