Page 1 of Unrivaled

PROLOGUE

Tiffany

A familiar voice calls my name, but I ignore it. It’s Carter. My ex as of two days ago when I went to his house to surprise him with his favorite ice cream only to find him balls deep in Jenny McKnight, one of the sophomore cheerleaders.

She’s here tonight. Why isn’t he bothering her and leaving me alone?

Ignoring Carter, I move closer to Ethan, the guy I’m dancing with, and place his hands on my hips, moving with the thrumming beat that reverberates through my body.

Ethan’s fingers tighten, giving me a quick squeeze, and then let go. “I like you, Tiff,” he says in my ear, “but not enough to be on Carter’s shit list. Sorry.”

Then he backs away, leaving me dancing on my own in the middle of Dax Bowman’s crowded basement.

Frustrated, I spin around and look for Carter. I catch sight of his perfectly gelled, dirty blond hair at the foot of the stairs, following it down to find an angry glare on his face and his hands on his hips. Ugh. And to think I thought he was cute for actual years. We’ve been together since halfway through freshman year. Everyone always said how adorable we were together. The classic All-American power couple—blond, attractive, and athletic. This was supposed to be our year—the quarterback and the cheer captain, high school royalty.

But that’s all over now, and having him standing there glaring at me likeI’mthe one who did something wrong is too much.He’sthe one who fucked up and shit all over everything we’ve had. We were supposed to go to college together. It was just a question of where. Since all the big football programs recruiting him also have great cheer programs, I was going to follow him wherever gave him the best deal.

Not now, though. Now I’m going to reevaluate everywhere that we’ve applied and weigh where I want to go for myself.

“What do you want, Carter?” I demand, arms spread wide. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore, remember? Isn’t Jenny here? You said she didn’t stress you out as much. Go find her and chill out. Leave me alone.”

Pushing past him, I start up the stairs, but he grabs my arm and spins me to face him. “Look, Tiffany,” he says, remorse replacing his glare. “I’m sorry, okay? I screwed up. I know I did. Please give me another chance.”

I yank my arm away. “No. You were pretty clear the other day that I’m too much for you to handle. So I’ll just take all my too much and find someone who can. Leave me alone.”

“Tiffany, please,” he calls after me, but I don’t even acknowledge him as I stomp up the stairs.

This was supposed to be fun. A party to relax and celebrate how far we made it in the postseason, even if the football team lost tonight to our crosstown rivals in the semifinals for state. It’s not quite the state championship season we were hoping for, but considering I won’t have to keep cheering in the frigid November evenings anymore, I’m not too torn up about it. And the fact that it pisses Carter off makes the loss even more bearable. Not that I’m saying that out loud to anyone other than my best friends, Maddy and Heidi.

Maddy sidles up to me when I exit the door at the top of the basement stairs, a cup in each hand. She hands one to me and taps her cup against it. “I saw Carter go downstairs and figured you could use a drink when you came up.”

I give her a grateful smile and take a sip of some kind of spiked punch—fruity with a kick. They don’t call it punch for nothing. After another sip, I shake my head. “I’m gonna have to take it easy. Dad’ll be grumpy tomorrow because of the loss. No need to add a hangover to the misery.”

My dad’s the football coach, and he’s the only reason I’m actually a little sad that we lost. I know about football from him and from dating a football player for the last four years, which makes following the games from the sidelines easier. But I’d be lying if I said I cared very much about the sport in general. I’m far more interested in my own sport and crafting routines to wow the crowds at halftime. There’s not much of a budget for competitions, but we’ve done well at the few we’ve managed to go to.

Maddy grins back, her hips swiveling to the music that makes its way up the stairs. It’s quieter up here, with fewer people, making it easier to talk and move around.

There’s a shift in the air, and everyone’s gaze swivels toward the door. A group of guys comes in, bringing a gust of chilly November air with them, though in the confines of the house, the fresh air is welcome. Fresh air and fresh faces.

They’re cute in their letter jackets, even if the maroon and silver mark them as Ridgeview students—the school that just tanked our chance at the state football championship.

There’s some grumbling as people take in their appearance, but then one of the younger cheerleaders hops up from her spot on the couch and throws her arms around one of the guys. He kisses her and follows her back to the couch, settling in with her on his lap.

My eyebrows climb my forehead. I guess that explains why Ridgeview students are at an Eastwood party. But the part of me that’s been inundated with school spirit for years can’t help feeling like she’s a traitor.

The other four step into the room, talking and laughing as they remove their jackets and toss them on the chair where everyone’s coats are piled.

“Good thing Carter’s still downstairs,” Maddy mutters next to me. “Because I don’t think he’d much like Grayson Kilpatrick being here to rub Ridgeview’s victory in his face.”

As though he can hear us talking about him from across the room—though of course he can’t—Grayson Kilpatrick lifts his head and looks right at us as he runs a hand through his short, dark hair. His eyes move up and down, taking in the crop top and denim mini I put on after the game to come to the party tonight, and a slow smile comes over his face.

“Oohhh, looks like someone’s caught his eye,” Maddy says, nudging me forward with her elbow. “Go have fun. Do you want me to send Carter up for an eyeful or distract him so he doesn’t interrupt?”

Before I can answer, Grayson approaches me, and something flutters in my belly at his approach. I honestly haven’t felt this way about a guy in a really long time. I’ve been with Carter for so long that I’d forgotten what the first thrill of attraction feels like.

Maddy slips away as I smile up at Grayson. “Congratulations on your win.”

His plush lips pull even wider, and he places a hand on his chest. “The head cheerleader for the rival team congratulating me on my win? I’m shocked.”

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