8. Winter

"Bitch,are you going to warm up or not?" Selena called to me where I sat on the bleachers, reading my art theory book.

It was January, freezing in the huge gym, and the first cheer practice after winter break. Motivation was hard to find. My mind kept straying to Asher Martino and our little game. Was it childish? Sure. Did I intend to win? Absolutely. Most of all, I needed to make him come to dinner, and I had two weeks to accomplish it.

The cheer captain, Tina, blew an annoyingly loud whistle and forced us all up. I left my book and phone and trudged down to the gym floor.

"Okay, fat asses, I know you've been eating everything under the sun for the last few weeks. Time to pay for it," Tina announced, smiling sadistically.

She was the worst. It didn't bother me, her criticisms and fat-shaming rolled off my back, but I could tell it bothered the other girls. I couldn't wait for Tina to graduate so that hopefully, the cheerleading squad could move on to a new era of benevolent leadership. Either that, or another mean girl would take up the mantle to torture us all.

The whistle blew, and we started practice. Football players wandered in and sat. They were here to train, in theory, but often they just hung out and watched the cheerleaders practice. A lot of them had girlfriends on the team, while the others used the squad as prime hunting ground for either hookups or girlfriends.

As I was gulping down water during our break, I spied a new face toward the back of the gym: Isabelle, Eve and Lily's friend. She waved when I met her eye. She was scribbling away on her pad while we worked on a new routine.

As soon as we were done, she made her way down the stairs to me.

"That looked absolutely exhausting," she breathed as she reached me.

I nodded. "It felt it. Thinking of trying out?"

She exploded in a graceless guffaw that made me like her a lot more. She didn't care what anyone thought of her. She was wholly herself. It was a cool thing to see.

"You don't want me on the cheerleading squad. Not that I'd make the cut, not enough fitness or pep."

"You can fake the pep, take it from me." I grinned at her.

She laughed. "Yeah, I can see that. You are an inspiring example, but honestly, I barely have time for school and the paper as it is."

"Are you here for a story?"

She nodded. "Did you hear those rumors about doping a few weeks ago?"

"Aren't there always rumors about doping?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Probably, but where there's smoke, there's fire, and I need to start covering some real stuff or I'm never going to make it off spell-check duty and the crappy gossip column."

"Wait, you write the ‘Hooking Up at HHU' column?"

She nodded miserably. The column was our campus's answer to Gossip Girl, and usually exposed all sorts of secret relationships. It had outed quite a few couples no one had suspected. It was tongue-in-cheek and no one took it seriously, but it would still be an easy point to score.

"How do you get your info?" I wondered.

"People message in, usually with pics. It's not that big a campus, there's always someone around, somewhere…it's easy to get stories, really. We live in a fishbowl."

I nodded, chewing my lips and turning over a budding idea. "That's true."

"So, got any hot gossip about the football team? And not that the quarterback likes to bend over in the shower for the tight end…I already know that one," she teased.

What? I glanced over at the two guys in question. They'd been watching the cheer practice, seeming just like all the other horny jocks ogling the girls stretching and dancing right in front of them. Looks could be deceiving.

"I have an idea…but I'll need a favor in return."

"I'm listening," Isabelle said, poising her pen over her paper.

"I don't know any doping info, but I can get you face-to-face with the guys who were accused, maybe after they've been drinking, after a game, when they're loose-lipped and feeling invincible."

"Really? That would be incredibly unprofessional of me, and I'm in one hundred percent. What's the favor?"

"I have a story for you…a secret couple. Can you out them in the column?"

Isabelle checked her watch. "I can even get it in for tomorrow's edition."

Yes!

"Amazing. Can I?" I reached out and snagged her pen and scribbled two names across her paper. "This is the couple. Top secret, no one knows."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at the names. "Why do I feel that you're up to no good?"

I just laughed.

Point one to me, Martino.

On the way back from cheerleading practice, I was so cold and had begrudgingly burned so many calories, I decided to stop in at the coffee shop to treat myself.

I'd already ordered and was waiting for my drink when I felt eyes on me. It wasn't anything new to feel like you were being watched, walking around campus in a cheerleading outfit, but this time it felt different. It always felt different when he looked at me.

My eyes collided with Asher's as I took my drink and spun around, searching for a place to sit.

He was wearing training clothes and sitting at a table by the window, a huge sports bag on the seat opposite him. The only free seat in the house.

A sketch pad was open on his lap, and he was lounging back, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and staring. Just like that day behind the school. The first time I'd been alone with him. The day I couldn't forget.

There was a challenge in that stare. It was the first time we'd seen each other since he'd dared me to go against him. He was waiting to see what I'd do. I wasn't about to disappoint.

I pasted on a bright smile and sauntered toward him. I was making for the spare chair, aware people were watching. There were always people watching the campus hockey players; they were like celebrities, and none were more watched than the Ice Gods.

I was nearly at the seat when Asher's leg extended. He rested a foot on the chair opposite him, effectively blocking me from getting to it.

"What do you want, DeLaurie?"

"Why, just to sit with my boyfriend for a little bit before class." I batted my eyelashes at him.

He chuckled. "Nice try. This seat's saved."

"For who?"

"My bag, can't you see it?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Your bag gets a seat over a person?"

"If that person is you, yes." He grinned and eyed me up and down. "What are you going to do about it?"

Good question. I hesitated for a moment and then stepped over his leg. It was only knee height. I wasn't going to let it stop me.

"I'm going to sit down," I said, sweetly sarcastic.

Asher tutted and bent his damn knee before I could bring my other leg over, nestling it between my upper thighs. Great. Now I was straddling his leg.

"No means no, Ice Queen."

He watched me with cruel amusement, waiting to see what I'd do next. Refusing to rise to the bait and get flustered, I rested a hand on his thigh.

"Sweetheart, if you wanted me to sit closer, all you had to do was ask," I said, sliding my hand up his thigh quickly. The only warning for what I was about to do. Shifting forward, I spun as well as I could and lowered myself, right onto his lap.

He jerked beneath me like I'd given him an electric shock.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he murmured in my ear.

I pressed myself back against his chest. It was really very broad and supportive.

"Just getting cozy," I fired back. "What are you going to do about it?"

"And what is stopping me from dumping you off onto the floor right now?"

"Basic common decency?" I attempted.

He laughed at the idea and placed a hand on my thigh. "I didn't know you were such a comedian. You got underwear on under this thing?" he wondered, inching my skirt up.

I tensed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to finger you right here, in front of everyone, since you're my girlfriend and all," he murmured.

The warmth from his mouth next to the delicate skin of my ear sent a flush right through me.

"Asshole," I snapped, knowing he'd got me. I'd have to move.

"Brat," he responded and took his dickish behavior to the next level by kicking the table leg.

The coffee I'd set on the table rocked dangerously and splattered down my skirt and top. I stood, shaking the hot liquid off my skirt. Damn it. I'd have to wet it immediately. My phone vibrated madly as I blotted the mark.

Ignoring Asher for a second, I checked the message. It was from my next class. A reminder to bring my portfolio in to update my advisor on my progress. I had mine in my bag.

"You might want to go wash up…that's gonna leave a stain," Asher observed idly.

With a deadly look, I took his damn advice and made for the bathroom. Okay, sure, maybe he'd just scored a point, but I had plenty more tricks up my sleeve.