Chapter Three RHETT

We’re waiting on the side of the stage, me in front of the rest of the football team since I’m their QB. My younger brother Callahan is behind me and I can hear his big mouth rambling on like he does, but I don’t tell him to shut up, which is my usual response when I get sick of his nonstop talking.

I’m not about to start a fight with him in front of everyone. There’s no point. Besides, he’s chatting up his new best friend Rowan Lancaster and considering that kid’s family owns the damn school, I’m not looking to start any trouble. Talk about rich …

My mind shifts to that massive house I picked them up at. Most everyone who goes to this school is from real money that’s generations old. My family is wealthy, but we’ve got nothing on the Lancasters. And then there’s Row’s sister.

Gorgeous. Long, silky dark hair. Big tits. Wide eyes that gobbled me up while she held out that stupid sock. I wanted to yank on her hand, drag her into my car and take her with me, but I repressed the urge. I had more important things to take care of that morning.

Like football.

Tugging at the front of my jersey, I look down, glaring at the khaki uniform pants I still have on. At my old school we could wear whatever we wanted along with our jerseys during game days or when there were rallies. I come to this fancy prep school and it requires uniforms on a daily basis. Still can’t get over the fact that I go to this damn school and this is my second—and final—year here. Thank God.

Someone bumps into me and I send him a dirty look, which has the kid panicked and apologizing. I don’t remember his name—he’s new to the organization and a sophomore. We’ve got a junior varsity team this year so I don’t deal with them as much as I used to. Every single one of these guys standing with me though, they’ll do pretty much whatever I say. It wasn’t easy, taking command of this newly rejuvenated team, but I eventually won them over.

“Stop scaring the JV team,” Brooks says out of the side of his mouth. He’s my closest friend at this school and we make a great team on the field. He’s the best wide receiver we’ve got and the one I like to throw the ball to more than anyone else.

“They need to calm the fuck down,” I mutter, shaking my head, glancing over my shoulder yet again, my gaze narrowing. They go quiet, even Cal, and once I’m satisfied with their behavior, I face forward once more, eager to get this rally over with and get on with my day.

I know exactly what helped me take over the team and become their leader, despite only transferring to this school last year. It’s my last name, and the fact that my dad is a former NFL QB and is now a coach for an NFL team. I come from a long line of football players. Like it’s fucking crazy how many are in my family, in the bloodline, including my own father. He married into it, but the Callahans are a powerhouse of football and have left a legacy that reaches generations.

I hope to be one of the stars of the new generation, and my little brother does too. We didn’t actually believe playing at this stupid, snotty-ass prep school would be the answer, but I’ve gained so much attention thanks to attending Lancaster Prep and being on their football team, it’s kind of wild.

And awesome. Totally awesome.

“Wish Westscott would introduce us and get it over with,” Brooks mumbles and I silently agree with him. Though I can’t deny our headmaster knows how to hype the team up.

I rest my hands on my hips, waiting for Westscott to run through his happy first day of school spiel. He goes hard, boasting about his efforts to turn Lancaster Prep around and bring more school spirit to our campus. He even gets everyone to yell, “Go Lions!” on repeat.

The football team yells it right along with them, high fives all around and finally, it’s our time to shine.

“And now, let’s give a hearty welcome to our league champions, the Lancaster Lions football team!”

I give the signal and we all run out on stage, crowding around Westscott, me still in the front, Brooks just to my right. The headmaster detaches the microphone from its stand to say, “Here’s our team captain and quarterback, Rhett Bennett. Give us an update on the team, Rhett.”

Westscott thrusts the mic in my face and I lean forward to speak into it since I tower over the dude. “We’ve been practicing like crazy and we’re ready to take the team all the way to the state championships this year, sir.”

“That’s the spirit!” Westscott screams, making the entire auditorium scream along with him.

I gaze out at the crowd, seeing so many of my classmates yelling and clapping and whistling. I scan the first row, locking in on one girl in particular who’s watching us with a confused look on her face.

Her brows are drawn together, her deep red lips pursed. She’s got long, dark hair pulled into a high ponytail that shows off her delicate bone structure and I don’t want to look away.

It’s like I can’t.

Goddamn, she’s beautiful.

I know the exact moment our gazes actually connect because it feels like a bolt of lightning shot straight through me, fiery hot and settling in my balls. I stare at her, Westscott’s booming voice growing distant, the screaming crowd now nothing but a dull roar.

I recognize her. Rowan Lancaster’s sister. She tilts her head to the right, her ponytail swinging, and I’m gripped with the image of me grabbing hold of her hair and tugging her head back, kissing the fuck out of her.

Blinking, I pull myself out of my stupor and say something into the mic that’s suddenly in my face again. Whatever it was I said, it’s got the crowd yelling even louder, and I tear my gaze away from the girl, realizing she’s sitting right next to Iris.

She’s cool. Cousin to Rowan. Probably the most popular girl in my class and completely untouchable. Not like we talked much last year, but we had a couple of classes together. I like her as a friend, but that’s it. She’s too blonde for me to ever be interested.

I’m surrounded by blondes. My sister Kenzie is a blonde and so is my mom, and I’m just like … nah. I prefer dark-haired girls.

Like Rowan’s sister, who’s studying me blatantly, her brows still drawn together like I might confuse the shit out of her. I wonder if she felt that bolt of lightning too when we locked eyes. If she’s electrified as I am. It’s like I can feel every part of my body—every hair standing on end, the blood pumping through my veins, my heart throbbing in my chest.

I flex my fingers. Shake my hands out and tilt my head to the left, then the right, savoring the satisfying sound of my neck cracking. Westscott is giving me an odd look, unsure of what I’m doing, and without warning, I swipe the mic right out of his hand and stride toward the front of the stage, standing almost on the edge of it.

Directly in front of her.

“We’re going to dominate this season! By the end of the year, everyone in this country will know who the Lancaster Lions are. I guarantee it!”

Everyone leaps from their seats. Even Iris. It’s like my words pushed everyone right over the edge and they’ve all lost their damn minds.

Except for her. She’s still sitting in her seat, clapping lightly, her head turning to the left, then the right, the confusion remaining in her expression. The applause is obligatory but does she even know why she’s clapping? I’m guessing no.

Our gazes lock yet again and I smile at her. She doesn’t smile back, but she keeps watching me with those big, startling blue eyes. Just before I look away, her lips curve up the slightest bit, not showing any teeth. A Mona Lisa smile if I’ve ever seen one.

Never understood that saying before until this very moment. This girl is mysterious. I may know her name, but I want more.

And I’m going to make it my mission to find out every little thing about her.