Page 6 of Pump Fake

“It was nothing.” He rolled his eyes. “I just put something on her chair, and she sat on it. She didn’t need to get all crazy.”

“Yet, she called Nana, who called me, so I’m guessing it was bad.”

Again, with the shrug. My heart hurt for him. I understood what he was going through because I’d lost my dad around his age. It had been hard on both my sister and me. And I’d acted out until I’d seen how much Mom was struggling in addition to maintaining her job. Then I’d gotten my shit together and done what I could to help her, which also meant keeping up with my grades, embracing football, and doing whatever she asked of me without mouthing off or complaining. Preston was an only child. He didn’t have a sibling to lean on like I had. I eased back, my head thumping against the wall just like his did.

We didn’t have long to wait.

The door whipped open, followed by a clipped “You can come in now.”

I followed Preston inside the brightly lit room. It looked like any other classroom. Preston’s snicker snapped my focus back to the teacher in front of us as she turned to take her place behind her desk. Long, slightly wavy honey-blond hair hung down her back. She wore a pale-blue silk blouse tucked into dark pants and a white sweater tied around her waist. The sweater was crooked, and a flash of toned flesh peeked through a tear at the seam of her back pocket. No wonder he hadn’t called my mom. She would have been livid. I wasn’t particularly happy about the events.

I averted my eyes because I didn’t need to be checking out his teacher, who was probably in her thirties, as that was the youngest I remembered any of my high school teachers to be. I remained standing, not bothering to try squeezing into one of the tiny chairs with the arm desks like Preston had.

Then his teacher turned and faced us.Not in her thirties.I towered over the willowy blonde with ice-blue eyes that perfectly matched her shirt. Anything I’d thought I would say fled my mind. Because Preston’s teacher was smokin’ hot.

“Please have a seat.” Her eyes flashed fury.

“I’m sorry”—I glanced at her left hand—“Miss…” I left her name hanging, hoping Preston would do me a solid as I looked at him.

“Sinclair,” he whispered loudly.

“Miss Sinclair.” I gestured to myself. “As you can see, I won’t fit. If you don’t mind, I’ll just stand by my nephew.”

And I got nothing. No smile of understanding, just daggers shot straight from her eyes to mine.

“This is just great. You’re the uncle?” Her full lips compressed into a line, and she seemed to try reeling in some of the palpable anger as she rubbed her temples with two fingers. “I can’t catch a break today. I expected an adult to meet with me over the seriousness of Preston’s prank, but I can see he probably gets his behavior from his hotshot jock uncle.”

CHAPTER FIVE

BRIELLE

My first shot fired might not have been fair, but I knew who Ares Bellingham was. Everyone on campus did. All professionalism went out the door at seeing the jock, who was a senior at Fall Lake U like me. Of course, it didn’t help that Mallory had a thing for jocks and had sent me a sex tape that starred none other than the man standing like a hulking god at his nephew’s shoulder. Heat rose in my face as the visual flashed in my mind of him effortlessly lifting his partner and laying her on the bed.

If I weren’t so angry, I would’ve had a jaw-drop moment at how gorgeous the guy was—good thing I was furious.And who knew he was that hot?I’d never seen him up close and in person. He stood at an impressive height that I guessed—okay, I knew from ogling the starters on Fall Lake’s football team—to be six foot four inches, with impossibly wide shoulders. I was playing with fire when I called him a hotshot jock.But isn’t it true?

“Listen, lady. I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I’m here to help solve whatever problem youthinkmy nephew caused. So if you could stop being so condescending, that would be fantastic.” Ares seemed to swell even bigger asanger carved a line between his eyebrows and turned down the corners of his lips.

“It’s on.” Preston grinned and lounged back in his chair, getting comfortable.

I ignored the little punk, instead focusing on the bigger one. “There is no question that he did it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “He filmed it too. Maybe he got that idea from you?”

My eyes widened when Ares stepped closer, a muscle jumping along his perfectly sharp jaw.

“Oooh, now you did it.” Preston chuckled under his breath.

Dammit. I needed the little miscreant out of the room. “Preston. Wait outside.” I tapped my toe, waiting for him to do as I’d ordered.

When he glanced at his uncle before unfurling his too-tall-for-his-age body and ran a hand through curly dark-blond hair similar to his uncle’s, I almost screamed. Luckily, he pivoted without a word, shutting the door behind him, and my anger went up to detrimental levels.

My arm shot out, and I pointed to the place he’d left. “Your nephew put superglue on my chair, and this happened.” I flicked a corner of my sweater up, twisting. Cool air kissed my backside, and heat flooded my cheeks. I’d just flashed Ares Bellingham my ass, or part of it.

His gaze dropped to where I held my sweater, and I immediately let it go, mortified.What was I thinking?Nothing sane.What if he took my actions as hitting on him? A proposition for a second sex tape?I was so screwed. If what I’d done got back to the principal, I was toast. I could kiss my cushy substitute teaching job goodbye. I did the only thing I could—I hid behind outrage.

“Do you have proof that Preston did that?” He mimicked my pose and crossed his bulging arms over an equally muscular chest.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What part of ‘he was videotaping me’ didn’t you hear? Or did you coach him on that artsince you’re obviously well-versed in it?” I was being horrible, but I couldn’t stop myself. His larger-than-life presence threw me off my game, and I kept picturing him in that tape when he’d lifted some girl against the wall then took their sexcapade to bed with multiple positions. More heat flooded my face, and sweat beaded along my hairline.

I wasn’t alone in those thoughts. The entire female population at Fall Lake’s campus had probably done the same.

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