~Samantha Lee~

The ceiling in my new bedroom was a vast, unforgiving white. I'd counted 1,472 imaginary sheep, named every state capital alphabetically, and mentally replayed the final three seconds of last season's championship game at least fifty times. Still, sleep was a luxury I apparently no longer deserved.

My sheets were twisted around my legs, damp with a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature. Every time I closed my eyes, the scene replayed in my head, how my mother's hand tucked into the arm of a smiling Mr. Pierce, and just behind them was his son.

Tyler! Fucking! Pierce.

My arch-nemesis and now, thanks to a whirlwind romance that apparently blossomed over what? Charity galas? He was my stepbrother.

The thought of it sends a shiver down my spine and it's not in any good way.

How could my mom do this? Of all the single, eligible men in this city, she had to fall for the father of the one person who could make my blood boil just by breathing in my general direction. She had no idea about the years of rivalry, the snide remarks in the hallways, the competitive fire that burned between the hockey team and the cheerleading team. She had no idea about that night at the party, the blur of alcohol and tension that ended with his hands on my waist and his mouth dangerously swallowing mine.

A hot flush crawled up my neck just thinking about what happened between us. My mom would kill me, not just kill me, she would disown me, then resurrect me just to kill me a second time if she ever found out I'd so much as shared air with Tyler Pierce outside of a school-sanctioned event. Staying away from him wasn't a suggestion, it was a survival mandate, and now, I was supposed to live with him.

The first rays of morning light finally sliced through the blinds, and I took it as my cue to escape. I slid out of bed silently like a spy on a mission. The mission?

Operation: Avoid All Pierces.

I tiptoed past the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee a painful temptation, and slipped out the front door of the ridiculously oversized mansion without so much as a granola bar. Freedom tasted like crisp morning air and an empty stomach.

My old hostel dorm room felt like a time capsule. Cardboard boxes slumped against the walls, half-packed and judgmental. A faded poster of my favorite band was still tacked to the wall, a relic from a simpler time like, last week. I groaned, sinking onto the edge of my stripped mattress. The thought of cramming the rest of my life into these boxes and hauling them over to the Pierce palace by the weekend made my entire body ache with dread.

A glance at my phone sent a jolt of panic through me.

Class!

Crap!

I practically sprinted across campus, my backpack thumping against my spine. I skidded into the lecture hall with minutes to spare, my lungs burning. My relief was short-lived. I hated this class not because of the professor or the subject matter, but because Logan was in it. And right on cue, as I was settling into a seat in the back corner, he walked in.

But he wasn't alone.

His hand was laced with Hannah's, their fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world. They didn't need to keep it a secret anymore, not since I had caught them cheating on me, kissing like their life depends on it, but I couldn't lie the public display was a fresh stab to the gut, a bitter, ugly thing coiled in my stomach, and I had to force myself to look away, focusing on a particularly interesting crack in the ceiling. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing how much it still stung.

The whispers started almost immediately, a low hiss that slithered through the room.

"...can't believe he dumped Sam for her..."

"Are you kidding? Hannah's way prettier. It's a total upgrade."

"God, I'd be so embarrassed if I were her..."

My knuckles turned white as I gripped my pen. Each word was a tiny, sharp pebble being thrown at me. My cheeks burned with a humiliating heat, and all I wanted was for the floor to swallow me whole.

Just as I thought I was going to combust from sheer mortification spontaneously, Professor Albright strode in, his briefcase thumping onto the lectern. "Alright, people, settle down!"

I'd never been so grateful to hear his booming, monotonous voice in my entire life. The whispers died out, replaced by the shuffling of notebooks. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, my shoulders slumping in relief.

The next hour was a blur of academic jargon that went in one ear and out the other. The second the class ended, I had my books shoved in my bag, ready to make a clean getaway. My plan was to find Rachel and Lily and drown my sorrows in a truly obscene amount of iced coffee.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

"Well, well, look what we have here."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Blocking the doorway were Hannah and her two carbon-copy minions, Amber and Jessica. I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck.

"Lost something?" I asked, my voice dripping with false sweetness.

A smirk played on Hannah's perfectly glossed lips. "Just wondering how it feels, Sam to lose." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper that was loud enough for everyone still in the room to hear. "Logan told me you were... boring. He needed someone with more passion. I'm just better, you know? He chose me."

Amber and Jessica giggled like a pair of hyenas. The words were designed to be poison darts, and damn it, they were hitting their mark. My throat felt tight, my carefully constructed wall of indifference crumbling.

"You want to know what she needs?" A new voice cut through the tension. Rachel appeared at my side, Lily right behind her, both of them looking ready for war.

Rachel fixed Hannah with a withering glare. "She needs you to go ahead and enjoy eating her trash. Bon appétit."

Lily crossed her arms, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Seriously, Hannah. Sam doesn't need Logan. He's used and dumped. You're welcome to him."

Hannah's jaw dropped. She looked from Rachel's cool look to Lily's outright aggression and back to me. For once, the queen bee was speechless. With a frustrated huff that ruffled her perfect hair, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her minions scrambling to follow.

The second they were gone, the tension broke. I high-fived Lily and Rachel, a real, genuine smile finally breaking through. "God, I love you guys. Seriously. 'Eating her trash'?"

Rachel shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. "Seemed appropriate."

I laughed, a wave of gratitude washing over me. This was my family, the one I'd chosen.

Just as I turned to suggest our coffee run, my eyes caught on a figure leaning against the far wall at the entrance to the hall. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of lazy confidence that always set my teeth on edge.

Tyler.

He wasn't talking to anyone or looking at his phone. He was just standing there, his dark eyes fixed directly on me. He'd seen the whole thing. The confrontation, my friends' intervention, everything. There was an unreadable expression on his face, an intensity that made the air feel thick and heavy.

A strange current passed between us, a silent, charged acknowledgment that crackled across the crowded hallway.

Rachel's gaze darted from me to Tyler and back again. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Okay," she said slowly, her voice low. "We have a lot to talk about. Starting with what the hell really happened at the party Friday night, and ending with why your nemesis is staring at you like you're the last drop of water in the desert."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Yeah, okay," I managed to say, my voice a little breathless. I gave them a quick, tight nod. "I'll be right back."

I didn't wait for a response. With a deep breath, I started walking, not towards my friends, but towards the hall entrance, towards him. My steps were even and deliberate, my gaze fixed straight ahead. I wasn't going to stop, I wasn't going to engage, I was going to walk right past him and out into the fresh air and pretend he didn't exist.

As I reached the entrance, I brushed past him, the heat radiating off his body warming my skin for a fraction of a second, I didn't look at him, I just kept walking.

I made it three steps before I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, falling into pace with my own.

He was following me.

~Samantha Lee~

The moment we rounded the corner of the building, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of the student, I stopped dead. My sneakers screeched against the concrete, and I turned so fast that Tyler Pierce, the walking, talking personification of my own personal hell, nearly collided with me. He stumbled, catching himself on the brick wall, a flash of surprise crossing his infuriatingly handsome face before the usual mask of arrogant amusement slid back into place.

"Easy there, Lee," he drawled, his voice a low but always managed to scrape against my last nerve. "Trying to take me out already? I thought we'd at least make it to the car first."

His lips quirked into that signature smirk, the one that made cheerleaders swoon and made me want to throw my heavy chemistry textbook at his head. I ignored the way his white t-shirt stretched taut across his broad chest as he righted himself. I ignored the faint, clean scent of his cologne that had no business smelling so good.

"What the hell are you doing here, Pierce?" I hissed, my voice low and tight. My backpack straps dug into my shoulders as I clenched my fists. "I thought I made it perfectly clear, I don't want you anywhere near me, especially not at school. I don't want anyone seeing us together." The thought of the rumors that would fly, Samantha Lee and Tyler Pierce, mortal enemies actually talking was enough to make my stomach churn.

He had the audacity to laugh. It wasn't a nice laugh, it was a mocking, hollow sound that echoed slightly, "Believe me, Lee, stalking you is the absolute last thing on my to-do list. I've got better things to do. Like, literally anything else." He pushed off the wall, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. The movement did criminal things to the sleeves of his shirt. "But apparently, our dear parents are less than thrilled you bolted from the mansion this morning without a word."

My jaw tightened. "I had to get to school."

"Right," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And you couldn't have, I don't know, mentioned that to someone? Your mom and my dad spent the morning convinced I'd somehow scared you out of the house in the middle of the night. My dad gave me a lecture on 'making you feel welcome.'" He did air quotes, his expression one of pure suffering. "So, congratulations. Thanks to your little disappearing act, I'm now your designated chauffeur. From now on, you wait for me. I drive you to and from school."

A snort of disbelief escaped my lips. "Oh, hell no. That is not happening. I would rather walk barefoot through glass than be trapped in a confined space with you."

"Don't get your panties in a twist. The feeling is mutual," he shot back, his eyes glinting with annoyance. "But unless you want to explain to your newlywed mother why you're refusing the 'kind, bonding gesture' from your new stepbrother, then we're stuck. I don't want this any more than you do, but I'm not getting grounded for the next month because you're too stubborn to accept a ride."

I ran a hand through my long hair, yanking at the roots in frustration. The logic, as much as I hated to admit it, was sound. My mom was in full-on happy-new-family mode. Any resistance from me would be seen as a personal slight against her marriage. I was trapped, utterly and completely trapped with the one person on the planet I couldn't stand.

I was trying to formulate a scathing comeback, something that would wipe that smug look off his face, when a movement over his shoulder caught my eye.

My breath hitched.

It was Logan and he was with Hannah Taylor again.

They weren't just walking, his hand was laced with hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles as he leaned in to say something that made her laugh, a bright, tinkling sound that drifted over to us. My Logan... well, not my Logan anymore, apparently.

A low chuckle from beside me broke the spell. "Well, well," Tyler muttered, his gaze following mine. "Seems like your man found a new woman and fast, too."

My head snapped back to him, my own heartbreak momentarily forgotten and replaced by a fresh wave of anger. "How... How do you know about me and Logan?"

Tyler laughed again, this time with genuine, cruel amusement. "Are you serious, Lee? Everyone at the university knows you and Logan were the 'it' couple. It's not exactly a state secret."

His words were like salt in an already gaping wound. I should have known there was no way Tyler didn't know about us, he never made the relationship secret anyway.

"Shut up, Pierce," I spat, my voice shaking. I couldn't look at him. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Without waiting for a reply, I spun on my heel and walked away, my strides long and angry. I didn't care if he followed, I didn't care about anything except putting as much distance between myself and this entire god-awful situation as humanly possible.

Back in the stale, conditioned air of my hostel room, I slammed the door shut and threw my backpack onto my unmade bed. The flimsy mattress groaned in protest. I had no intention of going to the late afternoon cheerleading practice. The thought of having to fake a smile and pretend my entire world hadn't just imploded was unbearable.

I was supposed to be packing, gathering the last of my things for the official, permanent move into the Pierce's mansion, but I just stood in the middle of the room, lost.

A sharp knock on the door jolted me.

"It's open," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

The door creaked open and Rachel poked her head in, her hair escaping her messy bun. "There you are. I saved you from suicide sprints, you owe me a smoothie. What's going on? Why weren't you at practice?"

I groaned and flopped face-first onto my comforter like safety. "Don't ask, Chel. My life is officially a dumpster fire."

I heard her kick the door shut and then the bed dipped as she sat down beside me. She started gently rubbing my back in soothing circles. "Okay, now you have to tell me. Dumpster fires are my specialty."

I rolled over, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. "My mom finally had her wedding and she wants me to move into the mansion with her."

Rachel's eyes widened, but a slow smile spread across her face. "Whoa, Sam! That's huge! I mean, it's weird, but... a mansion, right? Isn't that a good thing? No more barely surviving in the hostel."

"She wants me to move in, like, permanently," I said, "Starting today. I'll be commuting to school from their house."

"Okay, still not seeing the dumpster fire part," she said, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I get that it's a big change, but why are you so worked up about it? It's just a new house."

It's not just a house, I wanted to scream. It's a prison, and the warden is the cocky, infuriatingly hot asshole who leads the boys' hockey team and has made it his life's mission to make me miserable.

The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue. I wanted so badly to tell her that my new stepbrother was Tyler Pierce. I wanted to vent about the forced car rides, and the way he looked at me, and the fact that he saw me break down over Logan but I couldn't. The moment I said it out loud, it would become real in a way it hadn't been before. It was too insane, too humiliating. How could I explain that the guy I'd dedicated years to hating, the focal point of all my competitive rage, was now, technically, family?

So, I didn't. I just forced a weak smile. "I know. It's just... a lot to process you know with Logan cheating with Hannah Taylor too, everything is just messed up."

Rachel's expression softened immediately into one of sympathy. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. He's such a dick."

"Tell me about it."

"Well," she said, her voice turning practical as she clapped her hands on her knees. "We can't fix the dick part, but we can tackle this mountain of clothes. Misery loves company, and so does packing." She hopped off the bed and pulled my empty suitcase out of the closet. "Let's get this over with. The sooner you're packed, the sooner we can get ice cream and bitch about boys."

A real, genuine smile touched my lips for the first time all day. "You're the best, Chel."

Just as she started pulling clothes from my dresser, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up, my heart sinking as I saw my mom's name on the screen. It was a text message.

"Samantha, I know today has been a lot. Please come straight to the mansion after school tomorrow. Arthur and I need to talk to you and Tyler about something important"

I let out a long, agonized groan and let my head fall back onto my pillow with a thud.