TWO MONTHS LATER…
“You ready?” Blake asked as she put her car in park.
“Let’s do this,” I replied, reaching for the handle and pushing the door open. I hopped out of her car, excitement humming through my veins, and headed toward the field. It was our first practice with the full cheer squad. We’d had some practices and workouts over the summer, but not all the seniors were in attendance since they weren’t required to be there. Today would be the first time our entire squad was together.
There were people milling about and a few working on stunts. A couple guys stood as bases, tossing girls around like they weighed nothing. We never had guys on our high school team, so this was all new to me.
One guy stood out among the rest. He had his back to us, but there was something familiar about him. As we approached, I could see he had his arms crossed over his chest and was observing the others. His head nodded in approval as one couple perfectly executed their stunt. He dropped his arms and clasped hands with the guy, pulling him in for a pat on the back.
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat as he turned. The familiar cut of his jaw came into sharp focus, and I nearly stumbled.
“Whoa, are you okay?” Blake asked, gripping my arm.
His gaze snapped to us at the sound of her voice, and his eyes locked with mine.
Zayne.
What the hell was he doing here? He never once mentioned attending this school. And he was a cheerleader?
My head swam, and I had to focus on my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at me, clearly just surprised as I was.
“Holy shit,” Blake drew out, finally seeing what had me frozen to my spot. “Is that—” Before she could continue, a whistle blew, and we turned toward the sound. The coach motioned us over with her clipboard. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and followed Blake to where our teammates gathered around her.
As she spoke, making her introductions to the newcomers, I kept my focus straight ahead. I could feel Zayne’s stare on me, my skin tingling under his gaze, but I couldn’t look at him. What the hell was I supposed to do? I’d thought about him every damn day since the night I left him with a parting kiss. I wondered where he was and what he was doing. Longing filled me on more than one occasion, and I became desperate to feel his touch again. My hand was a poor substitute for what I really wanted.
My cheeks heated at the thought, and I was grateful to have the summer heat as a cover for my flushed skin. When we finally broke apart, I turned to Blake, eyes wide as I considered what I should do. Did I just pretend like nothing happened, like he hadn’t had his mouth on the most intimate part of me? Did I acknowledge that I recognized him and risk our new teammates asking questions? I didn’t have long to deliberate. Blake’s eyes widened a second before Zayne’s gruff voice filled my ear.
“Maren?” I sucked in a shuddering breath as Blake gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and turned toward him.
“Hi.” My response was breathy and timid.
“I…” he began, then shook his head in disbelief. “I had no idea you would be here. Guess that’s what I get for not paying attention to the roster,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“Yeah, it’s crazy.” Nervous laughter bubbled up my throat.
“Yeah,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. “I never expected to see you again.” His voice was low enough the others around us couldn’t hear it, but I did, and something in my gut twisted. Was he upset I was here? If that was the case, he would have to get over it because I wasn’t going anywhere. This was my dream.
“Ditto,” I replied, my voice flat as I crossed my arms. “You never mentioned you were a cheerleader.”
He took in my defensive stance, and his eyes narrowed at my irritated tone. “Is that a problem for you?”
“No, but I think we could have avoided this surprise if you’d been up front with me.”
“I thought we agreed…” he began, but stopped as he glanced around. Letting out a defeated sigh, he rested his hands on his hips and dropped his head. “We can’t have this conversation here.”
“I agree,” I snapped before he could continue. “I’d like to make a good first impression, and right now I’m not off to a great start.”
“Who are you trying to make a good first impression for?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I began sarcastically, “the coach … or maybe the captain.” Humor danced in his eyes, and he took two steps toward me. He was close enough I could smell the mint from his gum.
“Believe me, you made quite the impression on the captain back in June.”