Sport Affairs(His Dirty Little Secret)
img img Sport Affairs(His Dirty Little Secret) img Chapter 3 2: What The Hell
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Chapter 6 5: Trapped img
Chapter 7 6: The Un-Brady Bunch img
Chapter 8 7: A Knight In Jersey img
Chapter 9 8: Unwanted Savior img
Chapter 10 9: Unspoken Apology img
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Chapter 3 2: What The Hell

~Samantha Lee~

The entire concept of 'happily ever after' had always felt like a cruel joke in our household. My mom, bless her chaotic heart, had pretty much sworn off men after my Chinese dad decided he preferred a Buddhist monastery in Tibet to our suburban chaos. For years, her frustration, her unfulfilled longing dripped onto me. Every every messy room, every slightly-too-short skirt was an indictment of my character, an extension of her own personal disappointments. So, when she dropped the bombshell that she was not only dating someone but was getting married, I nearly died.

I tugged at the hem of my mini-dress, the fabric clinging in all the wrong places. My phone lay on my bed, vibrating with Logan's contact name, but he wasn't picking up. Typical! He was probably already at the pre-game party with his frat brothers, surrounded by sweaty bodies and cheap beer, completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend was trying to coordinate a grand entrance.

"Still trying to track down Captain Oblivious?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Rachel was leaning against my doorframe wearing a black velvet jumpsuit. "He's probably already there, wrestling with a frat bro for the last bag of Doritos," she added, an amused smirk playing on her lips.

"He said he'd meet me," I grumbled, shoving my phone into my tiny clutch. "And I don't do solo entrances. It screams 'I have no friends and spend my weekends alphabetizing my sock drawer'."

Rachel rolled her eyes, pushing off the doorframe. "Relax, Sam. We'll make a grand entrance, together. Double the trouble, double the fun, zero percent chance of looking like a social pariah." She gestured towards the door. "Now come on, the bass is calling our names."

I smiled as we made our way out of the hostel and to the frat where the party was hosted, the 'club' was really just a repurposed warehouse off campus, known for its questionable hygiene but excellent DJ.

"Alright, mission find Logan," Rachel yelled over the music, already scanning the crowd.

"He's probably with his team," I shouted back, "You know how he gets when he's with the boys, he zones out. Probably doesn't even know his phone is in his pocket."

Famous last words, right? Because then I saw him. Logan was not with his teammates, I saw him with Hannah, her hands were tangled in his hair, his arms around her waist, and their mouths... definitely not talking. A full-on, tongue-invading, make-out session that left no room for doubt or polite interpretation.

I had left angrily, drunk, danced with strangers and my memory from that point onwards became fuzzy, then, nothing.

Until the sunlight filtered through the room, I groaned and my eyes snapped open, and I pulled the covers from my body with a gasp. My breath hitched when I noticed I was utterly, completely, terrifyingly naked.

"Aaaah!" I screamed.

"What the..." The voice was deep, raspy with sleep.

My head whipped to the side, my eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. Next to me, occupying the other half of the bed, was a person. A man and he too was naked, his chest rising and falling with a slow, sleep-drugged rhythm.

My brain, still half-hibernating in an alcohol-induced coma, struggled to process the brown hair, messy, falling over his forehead. Broad shoulders, a lean torso. And then, his eyes, green and confused, blinked open, locking onto mine.

Tyler!

My world spun as I covered my mouth with my hands.

"Oh, holy mother of..." Tyler bolted upright, the sheets pooling around his waist. His eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and dawning horror. Slowly, agonizingly, the memories started to flood in of how everything happened.

"No. No, no, no, no, no!" I scrambled, frantically grabbing for the pile of clothes thrown on a nearby chair."This cannot be happening!"

Tyler raked a hand through his hair, his face pale. "You're telling me! What the hell went down last night, Sam?"

"I don't know!" I shrieked, fumbling with the zipper of my dress, my hands shaking so hard I could barely aim. " We were both naked, we were both in bed. The answer was horrifyingly obvious.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again as if hoping I'd disappear. "Oh, God. This is... this is a nightmare."

"A nightmare is an understatement!" I finally wrestled my dress on, my hair a tangled mess, my makeup surely smeared. I looked like a hot mess, but at least I wasn't naked anymore. "Listen, Tyler, we are never, ever speaking of this again. Do you understand? Not a word. This never happened, we both blacked out, end of story."

He stared at me, his eyes still wide, "You think I want this plastered all over campus?"

"Then we're in agreement!" I snatched my clutch, my heels, and practically sprinted towards the door, not even bothering to glance back. "Never happened!"

The door slammed shut behind me, and I didn't stop running until I was out on the street, the cool morning air doing nothing to calm my racing heart. The walk back to my hostel was a blur of mortified self-recrimination.

Tyler of all people, how could I... I slept with him. My stomach churned. The irony was ridiculous Logan cheats on me, and I wake up in bed with my biggest rival.

My phone, thankfully, chose that precise moment to start ringing, it was my mom.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself, "Hello?"

"Samantha Lee! Where are you?!" Her voice, even through the phone, was a piercing shriek. "You are not here! The ceremony starts in thirty minutes! Everyone is waiting!"

Oh.

My.

God.

The wedding! My mom's wedding.

"Mom, I... I forgot," I stammered.

"Forgot?!" she wailed. "You forgot your mother's wedding?! Get here this instant! The address is in the text I sent last night! Do you hear me?!"

"Yeah, Mom, I hear you! I'm on my way!" I practically yelled back, hanging up before she could launch into another tirade.

A wedding? Right! The universe truly had it out for me today.

I burst into my room just tore off the sequined disaster and practically leaped into the shower, scrubbing at my skin as if I could wash away the memories of the last few hours. Ten minutes later, I was out, dripping wet, and pulling on the first thing my hand found, a rose gold, off-the-shoulder gown that was probably way too fancy for a morning ceremony but, honestly, I didn't care. It was clean. I barely even attempted to comb my hair, just finger-combed it into some semblance of order before grabbing my clutch and practically flying out the door. The cab ride felt impossibly long, the driver probably wondering why his passenger looked like she'd just escaped from a high-speed chase.

The moment I stepped into the venue, I noticed there were so many people, my eyes scanned the crowd, finally landing on my mother. She was standing next to a distinguished-looking man, beaming, her usually harried face radiating pure joy. She spotted me and waved frantically, a mix of relief and barely suppressed annoyance on her face.

I forced a smile, weaving through the chattering guests. When I reached them, my mom grabbed my arm, squeezing it tight. "Samantha! Oh, thank God you're here! You look... well, you're here! This is my daughter, Samantha!" She turned to the man beside her, her smile softening even more. "And darling, this is Mr. Pierce, my husband."

Mr. Pierce extended a hand, his smile kind. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Samantha. Your mother talks about you constantly."

I shook his hand, trying to act normal, my voice a little shaky. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Pierce. Congratulations."

Just then, a voice, deep and familiar, cut through the gentle murmur of conversation. "Sorry, I'm late, Dad. Had a... slow start to the morning."

My head snapped up, tilting towards the familiar sound. No, it couldn't be but there he was. Tyler Pierce, looking impossibly put-together in a tailored suit, his hair still slightly damp from a shower, his eyes finding mine across the small group. They widened fractionally, a silent, mutual gasp of horror passing between us.

Mr. Pierce chuckled, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. "Ah! Here comes my son."

What the hell?

            
            

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