The billionaire football stars triplets and I

Ivy’s POV The air inside the grand ballroom is thick with the scent of cinnamon, pine, and something distinctly rich — maybe it's the perfume of Willowridge University’s elite. Twinkling fairy lights drape the high ceilings like stars, and the polished marble floors shimmer beneath my heels. People move in perfect sync, dancing in pairs like characters out of a holiday romance movie. Everyone except me. I’m standing by the edge of the dance floor, trying to look busy on my phone. My thumb swipes at a blank screen like it’s urgent. Spoiler alert: it’s not. I’m just trying to avoid the looks. The pity stares. The silent questions. "Why doesn’t Ivy have a partner?" They don’t say it, but I see it in their eyes. “Didn’t you have a date?” Lila's voice cuts through the crowd noise, sharp as ever. She appears at my side, a vision of curls and a red velvet dress that hugs her like a second skin. Her eyes dart to the crowd like she’s looking for him. "Where’s Marcus?" Gone. Long gone. With her. “Ask Destiny,” I mutter, eyes locked on my phone. Lila’s sharp inhale says it all. She whirls to face me fully, hands on her hips. “No. No, no, no. Don’t tell me he ditched you for that—” “Don’t.” I snap my head up, forcing a smile so wide it hurts my cheeks. "I'm fine, Lila. Seriously. It’s better this way." She gives me the look. That look. The one that says "you’re lying and I know it." I hate that look. “You know what?” she says, linking her arm with mine. “Forget him. I mean, honestly, Destiny has the personality of a cardboard box. And I’ve seen you rock solo better than most people can in pairs.” I huff a laugh, but it’s weak. "Yeah, well, solo isn’t exactly the vibe tonight, is it?" I gesture toward the dance floor. It’s a sea of matching smiles, swaying bodies, and couples lost in their own little worlds. Perfect little pairs. “Then let them have their pairs,” Lila declares with a wave of her hand. “You’re not just anybody, Ivy. You’re the captain of the cheer squad, queen of high kicks and death-defying stunts. People should be lining up to dance with you.” “Apparently, they didn’t get the memo.” She opens her mouth to argue, but something behind me catches her attention. Her eyes go wide. "Oh no." Her grip on my arm tightens. “Don’t turn around.” “Why?” I turn anyway. And there he is. Marcus. Laughing, hand on Destiny's waist, leaning in like she’s the only girl in the world. Her giggle is loud, exaggerated, like she knows I’m watching. She tilts her head just enough to catch my eye, and her smirk could rival a villain in any teen drama. My stomach twists. Not because I want him back — but because he made me feel so replaceable. Lila pulls me away like she’s shielding me from a car crash. “Okay, you’re done. We are so done with them.” I let her lead me toward the refreshment table, heart pounding too hard in my chest. I know it’s stupid. Marcus wasn’t the one, but he made me believe he could be. And maybe that’s worse. “Don’t let them see you upset,” Lila says, handing me a cup of sparkling cider like it’s some kind of shield. “Head high, Ivy. You’re too good for this.” I nod, but the tightness in my throat doesn’t budge. Head high. Eyes forward. Pretend like you don’t care. I’ve been doing it for years. Then the music changes. A slower song. Couples pair off, drawing in close. Lila frowns like she knows this is my breaking point. “I’m getting some air,” I say, setting my cider on the table. “Ivy—” “Just a minute, okay?” I flash her a smile that’s as fake as the snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Before she can argue, I weave through the crowd, slipping past swaying couples and groups of friends snapping pictures. I need air. Fresh air. Away from all of this. The balcony is quieter, the cold December air biting against my bare arms. I cross them tight, rubbing warmth into my skin. Below, the campus courtyard is blanketed in snow, the lampposts casting golden glows on icy sidewalks. It’s quiet, still. I should’ve stayed home. “Rough night?” The voice comes from behind me, deep, smooth, and far too familiar. I glance over my shoulder, and my breath hitches. Oh no. Asher Cross. Jared Cross. Hero Cross. The Cross triplets. They’re leaning casually against the balcony railing like they own the place — and, knowing them, they probably do. All three of them are dressed in sharp, tailored suits, each one slightly different but just as devastating. Asher, the leader, looks like he could run a billion-dollar company right now. Jared’s grin is the kind that melts hearts and causes trouble. Hero… well, Hero’s eyes are on me, sharp as glass but somehow soft at the same time. “Looks like someone needs a dance partner,” Jared says, stepping forward. His grin widens, dimples on full display. “Or three.” “Very funny,” I shoot back, eyes narrowing at him. Do not blush. Do not blush. “Shouldn’t you be inside charming the crowd or something?” “Already did,” Jared says with a wink. “Got bored.” “Thought we’d check on you,” Hero adds, his voice quiet but firm. His eyes flick to the ballroom behind me. “Saw you leave.” They saw me? My heart does a little jump, and I hate that it does. “I’m fine. Just needed air.” “Didn’t look fine,” Asher says, stepping forward. Unlike Jared, he doesn’t smile. His eyes lock on mine, intense and unyielding. He’s too serious, too direct, like he sees everything I’m trying to hide. “Don’t start, Asher,” Jared groans. “You’re going to scare her off.” He turns to me with a grin. “Ignore him. He doesn’t know how to talk to girls without sounding like a judge at a trial.” Asher rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Don’t you guys have a party to get back to?” I ask, folding my arms tighter around myself. Jared tilts his head, his grin slow and deliberate. “Why would we, when the most interesting person is out here?” I snort, shaking my head. “That line is older than Christmas itself.” “Doesn’t make it less true,” Hero says quietly. His eyes are on me, watching me too closely. Too carefully. It makes my chest feel tight, like I’m being seen in ways I don’t want to be. The cold air feels colder suddenly. “Alright, I’m going back inside,” I say quickly, brushing past them. But Jared steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Not so fast, Harper,” he says, his grin playful but his eyes steady. “You didn’t get your mistletoe moment.” My brows lift. “Excuse me?” He points up. I follow his gaze — and sure enough, there’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above us. My heart trips over itself. “Tradition’s tradition,” Jared says, his voice low, his grin sharp. “Walk away, Jared,” I say, though my voice is less firm than I want it to be. But before I can move, Asher steps in. His gaze doesn’t waver. “Tradition is tradition,” he says quietly, his eyes boring into mine. I freeze. The air crackles with something I don’t understand. They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t. Then Hero moves. Quiet, steady, unstoppable. His fingers tilt my chin up. His eyes meet mine. Deep, stormy, unshakable. “Don’t be scared, Ivy,” he murmurs. “It’s just a kiss.” And before I can argue, his lips press against mine — soft, firm, and far too real. The world tilts. The snow falls. And everything changes.