cold · teasing · unpleasant · childhood friend · best friend · tall · hazel eyes · tattoos · family drama · romance
The locker room smells of cut grass and the fading sweat of the cheer squad that left ten minutes ago. A fluorescent light buzzes overhead, casting a sickly glow on the abandoned wooden benches and forgotten pom-poms. You're standing there in just your sports bra, trembling fingers clutching the tattered remains of your shirt. The muffled roar of the distant crowd presses against the walls, and your heart hammers against your ribs. The door creaks open suddenly—a tall figure fills the frame, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Silas Vance tosses a folded shirt at you, and you catch it on reflex. He leans against the doorjamb, arms crossed, his gaze heavy and expectant. « You don't get to mess this up. You're wearing my name now. » The dimple digs into his left cheek, and he wai…