Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)

Which she is very good at.

After showering off all the flour and frosting, I get dressed in an outfit I’ve been so stoked to wear since Mom and I went shopping. Leather pants, a crop top that makes my boobs look bigger than they are, and an amazing buffalo plaid cardigan. I totally get Taylor Swift vibes in this cardigan, especially when I pair it with my magnificent Christian Louboutin combat boots. I bought them with my first check from Brooks House, and I treat these things like they were made by God Himself.

I love this outfit so much that, when I get to campus, I have my closest college friend, Lake, take a picture of me in front of this gorgeous fountain.

“Yes, queen!” Lake hollers, snapping his fingers at me as he takes picture after picture. We call each other our Instagram spouses, and we always make sure the other looks incredible. I met Lake Wellingburg the first day of classes last year. We were both scared to death to be in our first design class, but he decided that since we were the best-dressed people in the room, we should be friends. Lake was right, and I adore him. We have so much fun, and he always makes me feel like a queen. If only he weren’t gay. Sigh. Tall as all hell, with chocolate-brown skin and long brown hair that he has in a high pony like mine, he’s beautiful. Inside and out.

Once I’m done, I meet him in the middle, and he hands me my phone. “The third one is the one.”

“Really?” I ask happily before looking through the photos. He’s right, and I post it immediately. We don’t do filters unless it’s just for fun, and we make it clear. We are firm believers in being as natural as we can. It’s hard when we live in a world of Photoshop, but I want to be a role model for kids. My sister doesn’t do social media, but if she did, I’d want her to know everything I post is real.

Because if I did Photoshop anything, she’d be the first to call me out.

“Girl, yes. God, you’re so gorgeous. Why can’t you have a dick?”

I tap my chin. “Sorry, those went to my brothers.”

Lake smacks my arms. “I’ve done told you, do not even bring up those men when we know I can’t have them. You got that hockey hunk of a brother, and then that Clark Kent-looking one. Jesus. Your gene pool is touched by angels.”

I grin. “Oh, hush. Your brothers and sisters are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as me,” he corrects, and I nod quickly.

“Well, duh,” I say as my phone vibrates in my hand with a notification. I don’t have to open it to know who it is.

“Your stalker?” Lake asks as I open the notification to see his name.

Wes_McMillan.

Or as it should read, my_stalker.

“You know it.”

I’m met by his laughter as my body turns into lava. Only Wes can make it do that. I can still taste his lips, the mint from the mojito he was drinking at my brother’s wedding. I can still feel that damn six-pack as I ran my fingers along his abs. Most of all, I can still feel his cock against my hip. I regret not sleeping with him, but I’m not dumb.

“Girl, he stays on your shit. Give him a chance. I know you want more of him.”

“It would be messy.”

“Who cares? It’d be worth it.”

“Pissing off my brother and breaking my heart is not worth it.”

He groans loudly. “Baby girl, I said fuck him. Leave your heart locked up, and open those legs for some of that sexy hockey hunk. I actually think he’s hotter than your brother. Jesus, so many men. But for real, my lover Stella Ann—fuck him, Don’t fall for him. It’s easy.”

I laugh to keep from scoffing or even gawking at my friend.

Easy?

Shit, maybe if Wes hadn’t ever come into my life.

Maybe if he weren’t so funny it hurts my gut.

If he weren’t so gorgeous, maybe then it would be easy.

But most of all, if I hadn’t already fallen hard for him, I guess it would be easy.

Which is why I have to keep him at arm’s length. Because he could shatter not just my heart, but all of me, faster than it takes him to get from one side of the rink to the other.

Chapter Three

Stella

I thought it was just a crush.

It isn’t, though. At first, maybe. But then, that all changed. Some would assume I didn’t meet Wes until after Aiden was traded to the Assassins, but that isn’t true. I actually met him at Brooks House. He came in with a few of the guys from the Assassins, including my friend Posey Adler’s now-husband. There were maybe six of them, but of course, I was totally engrossed in Wes.