Page 45 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

"You are so smart, Cade. Everything academic came so easily to you. Mom was always showing off your report cards, your science fair trophies." He shrugs. "Meanwhile, I was struggling through basic algebra."

The confession floors me. All those years I spent resenting him for his athletic talent, his easy popularity, his golden-boy status in our father's eyes — and he was envying me?

"That's… I never knew that."

"We weren't exactly having heart-to-hearts about our feelings." He smirks. "Still aren't, if we're being honest."

"Well, this conversation has officially gotten too emotional for my comfort level," I declare, finishing my beer. "Want another?"

"Nah, I should head out. Hannah's waiting."

"Whipped," I cough into my hand.

Sandy flips me off, but he's grinning. "You'll understand someday. When you find a girl who can handle all your shit."

"There goes the entire campus," I sigh dramatically.

He stands, stretching. "See you at practice Monday?"

"Will do." I raise my beer and chug the rest.

As he leaves, I'm struck by an unfamiliar feeling — something like contentment, or maybe peace. Whatever it is, it's new and fragile and worth protecting. For the first time in years, I'm not defining myself in opposition to Sandy, or anyone else for that matter.

I'm just Cade.

And as I'm glancing around the party at what to do next, a pair of seething eyes captures mine across the room.

Saylor.

Chapter 14

The party smells like cheap beer and desperation, the air thick with smoke and sweat. From my corner near the kitchen, I can see everything without being seen — like watching a play where I've been mysteriously written out of the script. I take another sip of my too-sweet drink, the alcohol warming my blood even as my heart stays cold.

For the past hour, I've been watching Cade and his brother laugh together in their own private bubble across the room. The same brother he claimed to hate. The same brother who stole his girlfriend. Yet there they are, heads thrown back in laughter at some shared joke while I stand here, broken and alone.

"You okay?" Mina appears beside me, her lipstick slightly smudged from being with Jake.

"Fantastic," I reply, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable. "Having the time of my life watching men be complete hypocrites."

Mina follows my gaze to where Cade and Sanderson are deep in conversation. "They seem brotherly."

"Exactly. Where's all that hatred he supposedly felt? All that betrayal?" I drain my cup in one long swallow, welcoming the burn. "Guess it's easy to forgive when you're a guy. Just high-five it out and pretend nothing happened."

"Say…" Mina's tone carries a warning, but I ignore it.

"Meanwhile, Byron won't even look at me. Won't answer my texts. Probably has me blocked." The alcohol loosens my tongue, gives voice to the thoughts I've been trying to drown all week. "And Cade's over there thriving like last weekend never happened. Like I never happened."

"Wait. You texted Byron? Say, maybe you should slow down," Mina suggests, eyeing my empty cup with concern.

"Maybe they should stop being such assholes," I counter, moving toward the drink table for a refill. "I'll be fine. Go back to Jake. Don't let my shitty attitude ruin your night."

She hesitates, then squeezes my arm before disappearing back into the crowd. I pour myself another drink, stronger this time, and return to my surveillance post. Just in time to see Sanderson getting up to leave, clapping Cade on the shoulder in brotherly affection before heading for the door.

And then, as if sensing my attention, Cade turns. Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and something electric passes between us. Recognition. Awareness. The shared memory of what happened in the bedroom down the hall in this very house last weekend.

He doesn't look away. Neither do I. The noise of the party recedes, the space between us charged with unspoken accusations.

I scowl.

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