Chapter 2

Riley's POV

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the Sigma Chi fraternity house blinds into the living room, the air thick with protein powder and testosterone.

I used my fingerprint to unlock the front door, ready to drag Chase to the family barbecue.

"Chase? Where are you, you lazy—"

The words died in my throat.

Mason Cole stood at the kitchen island, completely shirtless, drinking a protein shake.

FUCK.

Texas sunlight poured from behind him, casting tempting shadows across his perfect abs. Those muscle lines were sculpted like a Greek statue—chest solid and powerful, V-lines extending from his waist down to...

I nearly dropped my phone.

Get it together, Riley! He's Chase's teammate!

But my eyes completely disobeyed, greedily scanning every inch of his skin. Post-workout sweat still clung to his collarbones, glistening in the sunlight.

Mason noticed my stare. He turned to look at me.

"Morning, sunshine." His voice was deep and magnetic, lips curved in that killer smirk. "Like what you see?"

My face instantly burned red: "I... I wasn't looking! I'm here for Chase!"

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow, still making no move to put on a shirt. "Then what were your eyes just admiring? The scenery behind me?"

BUSTED!

I spun around to flee but crashed hard into the coffee table corner. Sharp pain shot through my knee, and looking down, I saw scraped skin starting to bleed.

"Shit..." I cursed.

The next second, Mason appeared in front of me.

"Let me see." He crouched down, voice instantly gentle.

"It's fine, just a scratch..." I tried to back away, but he was already gently gripping my calf.

Electric sensation instantly shot through my entire body. His hands were warm and rough, but his touch was light as a feather.

"Sit down, let me handle this." No room for argument in his tone.

I obediently sat on the couch, watching him retrieve a first aid kit from the cabinet.

He knelt in front of me, carefully cleaning the wound with a wet wipe. Each touch made my heart race. I tried not to look at his focused expression, but that gentleness was irresistible.

"Does it hurt?" He looked up at me, green eyes full of concern.

"No." I lied. It actually hurt quite a bit, but being looked at like that, I felt no pain at all.

"RILEY! What the HELL are you looking at?"

An enraged roar came from the stairs. Chase thundered down in sleep pants, instantly exploding when he saw the scene.

"And YOU! Why are you touching my sister?"

Mason slowly stood, expression calm: "Relax, captain. She's hurt. I'm helping her."

"Helping her?" Chase's voice shot up an octave. "Why were your hands on her leg? And why weren't you wearing a SHIRT?"

"CHASE!" I stood up in embarrassed fury. "Stop being crazy! I hit the table and got hurt. Mason was treating my wound!"

"And," Chase pointed at me, "why is your face so red?"

"I'm not—"

"You ARE!" Chase grabbed my arm. "Kitchen. NOW. We need to talk."

Mason stood in the living room, watching this drama with barely concealed amusement.

In the kitchen, Chase launched into overprotective brother mode.

"Riley, you can't just waltz around in front of men like that!" he said seriously. "They're all animals. You have no idea what goes through their heads!"

"I wasn't waltzing around in front of men! I just came to get you for the barbecue!"

"Then why were you staring at his body?" Chase's gaze was like interrogating a criminal. "I saw your expression!"

My face reddened again: "I... I wasn't..."

"And how do you know the door code?"

"You told me! You said in emergencies I could come straight in!"

Chase rubbed his temples: "By emergencies I meant fires and earthquakes, not barging in to ogle half-naked men!"

Listening to Chase's endless lecture, my thoughts drifted to four years ago.

Prom night senior year, Mason attended as the football team's star player in a black tuxedo. He was elegant as a prince, with all the girls circling around him.

But that night, he walked over to me sitting in the corner.

"May I have this dance, Riley?" He smiled, extending his hand.

I thought I was dreaming.

We swayed slowly in the center of the dance floor, his hand gently on my waist, breath warm against my neck. Those were the most beautiful three minutes of high school, and the three minutes I completely fell for him.

After the song ended, he whispered in my ear: "You've grown up, Riley. You're beautiful."

Then he was pulled away by other girls, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, heart ready to burst from my chest.

"RILEY! Are you even listening to me?" Chase's voice snapped me back to reality.

"I'm listening." I nodded halfheartedly.

"I'm serious, Riley." Chase's expression was grave. "These players and their attitude toward girls... especially Mason, he's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I couldn't help asking. "What do you mean?"

Chase hesitated: "Just... stay away from him. He's not right for you."

I knew in my heart that the more Chase tried to stop me, the more I wanted to get closer.