Page 19 of Bet on Me


  I’d still forced myself to focus and read over material my tired brain couldn’t grasp. My one test today had not gone well. And so to compensate for what felt like massive failure¸ I’d spent the day cramming as much information into my head as possible.

  I was confident it hadn’t helped.

  I’d somehow made myself dumber.

  Was that even possible?

  I groaned as I stuck my key in the door to my apartment and pushed inside. It was dark with only the glow of the TV to illuminate my way. It looked like Ellie had been watching something on Netflix, but it was over now, and she had forgotten to turn it off.

  I dropped my book bag and purse as soon as I was out of the way of the door and left them there. My phone was in my hand because I was female and it was dark out and I’d had to walk from my car to my building and up our dingy stairs…so yeah, phone was in my hand, my finger poised over the emergency button. I threw it down on the counter and moved to the refrigerator.

  I didn’t know if I was hungry or thirsty or if I just needed to go to bed and hoped I figured it out in the morning, but it was worth a look.

  Even though I knew there wouldn’t be anything in there.

  Except there was.

  There was Frank’s! Yum!

  I pulled out the bag, just intending to inspect it. If it was Ellie’s, I wasn’t going to steal her food. I wasn’t.

  Maybe a bite.

  Or a pickle.

  They had the best pickles.

  But I would leave the rest untouched.

  Mostly.

  What I found was confusing. There was two of everything. Two sandwiches. Two chips. Two cheesecakes. No pickles.

  At first, I thought Ellie had picked up dinner for her and Fin. Or maybe her and me. But Ellie loved the pickles. She would never have brought Frank’s home without the pickles.

  Maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting for me and eaten the pickles out of spite?

  “I got that for us earlier.”

  My head swiveled to the living room where a shadowy figure appeared on the couch. I jumped, dropped the bag of food on the floor and tripped over my feet.

  Beckett’s gravelly laughter chased after me and added to my embarrassment. I caught myself on the edge of the counter and immediately checked to make sure the food had survived and wasn’t scattered all over the kitchen floor.

  It was safe.

  Whew.

  “Beckett! You scared the living hell out of me!”

  “Sorry,” he chuckled.

  I bent over and grabbed the sack that had landed perfectly upright and replaced it in the refrigerator. Those big sandwiches made a nice, solid base. “It was nice of you to bring over food, though, so I guess I can forgive you for the midnight intruder routine.”

  “I feel like I’m always bribing you with food,” he admitted. “If you tell me what else you like, I can switch up my payoffs.”

  I found myself smiling. I moved to the other side of the counter and leaned back against it. “Diamonds. I really love diamonds.”

  He laughed again and the warm, sleepy sound did something to my insides. Like made them melt. “I was thinking more like coffee or music. But hey, if my girl is into diamonds, I guess I’ll have to find her a different man.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Giving up that easily? Quitter.”

  “I suppose I could change jobs again. Bank robber? Jewel thief? Tomb raider?”

  “The possibilities are endless,” I added.

  I watched his handsome face smile in the glow of the TV, and I realized I had a shit day, but Beckett had turned it around somehow. My failures and frustrations had faded the second I’d realized it was him slumped over on my couch and not a murderer. I’d instantly felt better about myself and life and this week.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I yawned in reply. “Maybe. I can’t decide. Mostly I just want to sit down.”

  “Then come here.” He opened his arm and made room for me on the couch.

  I walked over, energized by the prospect of feeling his arms around me. Only when I got there we didn’t sit together, he laid us down. His body squished between mine and the couch. I did some creative foot aerobics to push my boots off, then snuggled back against him, so I didn’t pitch forward off the couch.

  One of his arms wrapped around my waist to hold me to him and the other rested under my head, giving me a pillow. He blew my hair out of his face, and we adjusted until we were both comfortable.

  The last step was the blanket which he struggled to get out from underneath him and over both of us. Then we had to adjust all over again. And untangle. And adjust. And finally, we were perfectly aligned and entwined.

  God, nothing had ever felt like this before.

  “You feel good,” he murmured against the back of my head. I felt his lips press against my hair, and I closed my eyes in bliss.

  “You do too,” I whispered.

  My eyes had closed, and I was just about asleep when I heard him mumble with a sleepy voice, “Never want this to stop.”

  The words penetrated my nearly asleep mind and infiltrated my defenses before I could stop them. I felt them wrap around the shriveled prune that was my heart and sink into my bones I had believed were so invincible.

  I lay there with my heart hammering and my mind spinning while Beckett drifted off to sleep behind me. I couldn’t make myself move, though. I couldn’t will myself to untangle from his warm hold.

  And I didn’t know what that said about me.

  What about my list?

  Beckett wasn’t one of my top choices. He didn’t have any qualities I wanted in a future mate. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do with his life, for God’s sake.

  He was a total wild card.

  And I couldn’t risk my future on a wild card.

  But I still didn’t move.

  I pressed into him deeper. The heavy weight of his arm around my waist soothed my rapid heartbeat, and his steady breaths calmed my frazzled nerves.

  His touch lulled me back to that almost asleep place. And I realized that no matter what my list said or how much criteria I had for any potential men in my life…Beckett had gotten ahold of my heart anyway.

  He hadn’t tricked me or pretended to be something he wasn’t. He’d been himself the entire time, and that was exactly what I wanted.

  What I needed.

  Maybe my list had been a bad idea. Maybe it had boxed me into a corner where men like that didn’t exist and where my head’s expectations didn’t match up with my heart’s.

  Eventually, I fell asleep. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but it happened fast. I had given myself permission to sleep for just a little bit and then find my bed. I hadn’t decided if I would wake Beckett and send him home or tell him he could crash with me. But it didn’t matter because I didn’t move until hazy autumn light drifted in through the closed blinds and my toes were ice cold from escaping the blanket sometime during the night.

  Beckett stirred against me, stretching and simultaneously tightening his arm around me. I found myself gripping that seatbelt of an appendage, so I didn’t tumble off the couch onto my face.

  I woke up in stages, taking a minute to realize the body behind me belonged to Beckett and then another to accept that we’d cuddled the entire night without moving. I also had to wonder at how quickly I’d fallen asleep. When I had things on my mind, I usually tossed and turned for hours.

  But I had found sleep almost immediately. Despite everything.

  Beckett lifted up my tangled hair and rubbed his scratchy jaw along my nape and shoulder. I squirmed, but the sensation tickled and felt amazing. I arched back into him, pressing every inch of me against his superheated body.

  “Mmm,” he groaned against my skin. His hand reached up to cup my breast that had been displaced from my bra sometime during the night.

  Side note: Ugh to sleeping in bras. The worst.

  Beckett’s touch made warmth pool in my bell
y, and I shifted so he could have more of me. I lifted my head so his other arm could fold underneath me and reach my other breast. I made a whimpering sound when he started kissing my neck, finding his way up to my ear.

  “Beckett,” I whispered.

  “You feel amazing, Britte,” he murmured, his hands massaging and doing something mind-blowing to my nipples. I made a sound that could only be described as lusty. That was the only word that applied there.

  Also maybe wanton.

  And horny.

  Definitely horny.

  I turned my head, and we shared a kiss. We both had morning breath, stale with furry teeth. It wasn’t the sexiest of kisses. But then it was at the same time. Our need for each other outweighed our human flaws.

  But it didn’t stop us from being self-conscious.

  His mouth moved down my jaw to my throat while his hands grabbed my stretched out Henley shirt from yesterday, pulling it up to where he could put his mouth on my breast.

  I turned so I was on my back, still in the cradle of his arms and pressed into the curve of his body.

  He grinned down at me, while he pushed my bra out of the way. “Now these are nice,” he chuckled. His head dipped down, and he pulled my nipple into his mouth, sucking at first, then I felt the scrape of his teeth, and I was pretty sure my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “Fucking fantastic,” he murmured before repeating his mouth magic on my other one.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. I turned toward him and threw my leg over his, feeling him where I needed him most. He kicked the blanket off us both, frustrated with how tangled we were getting.

  The cold morning air no longer bothered me. I was burning up inside, molten with desire and need and raw, desperate want.

  He lifted up for just a second and grabbed his shirt at the back of his collar. Tugging it off with a smooth pull, he settled back on the couch where his heated skin met mine.

  I shivered from the sheer ecstasy of it. He was all hard lines and corded muscle. I finally gave into my urge and kissed across his chest, letting my tongue slide over him, nipping occasionally, tasting the sweetness of his skin.

  His hips bucked forward, and I stopped thinking completely. I needed him.

  Now.

  So I told him that, “Beckett, I need you.”

  He took my mouth again, hungrier than he had ever been. Greedy for me. Using those impressive muscles I had always been in awe of, he flipped us both so that he lay back on the couch, me straddling his waist.

  I hovered over him feeling him completely and losing whatever grasp on rational thought I had left. I wanted this. Virginity be damned, I needed this.

  But there was still the inexperienced, insecure part of me. Could he tell that I had never gotten this far with a guy before?

  Was he wondering why I didn’t know what I was doing?

  Was I acting like a total prude?

  Need outweighed self-consciousness, and I moved against him, grating just where I needed him.

  His head tipped back, and his heavy-lidded gaze was enough to undo me. I realized then that Beckett couldn’t read my thoughts or see my past. He had no idea.

  All he knew was what he felt. And this felt good. I could tell by those silvery eyes that burned straight through me and the way his hands had settled on my hips and begged for me to move, to keep giving us what we both wanted. I could tell by the hardness of his body, the obvious need that pushed against me.

  “I want you,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for months, but never like this. I need you. Goddamn, Britte, I need you.”

  I dipped forward, letting our mouths meet for a brief, hot kiss. “Have me,” I told him.

  “Well, this is an interesting way to wake up.”

  Both of us stilled, frozen by humiliation and surprise.

  Ellie.

  Oh, my God, I had completely forgotten about Ellie! I yanked my shirt down and tried to discretely tuck myself back into my bra. Beckett looked like he wanted to die.

  His face had turned bright red, and he turned to stare at the couch.

  “Should I go?” she asked. “I mean, I would, er, let you two get back to it, but I have a midterm in a half hour. I need coffee.” She cleared her throat. “Britte, don’t you have a test too? I thought you were leaving at eight?”

  Oh, no. “Shit! What time is it?”

  “Eight-fifteen, babe.”

  “Holy shit!” I jumped off Beckett, forgetting about his embarrassment. I tripped over the blanket on the ground and nearly crashed into the coffee table. My wild movements caught Beckett’s state of… er… arousal and I hopped on one foot until I could grab the same blanket that had nearly killed me and toss it at him.

  He gave me a grateful half-smile.

  “I have to go!” I shouted at him out of panic.

  I raced to my room, stripping out of yesterday’s shirt and grabbing a hooded sweatshirt out of my closet. I pulled it on and finished fixing my bra and boobs.

  Next stop was the bathroom where I threw my hair up in a messy bun without brushing it, rolled on some deodorant and brushed my teeth as fast as humanly possible. I scrubbed yesterday’s makeup off where it had smudged under my eyes and grabbed a colored Chapstick for later so I didn’t spend the day looking like a vampire.

  I ran back into the living room, shoved my feet into my discarded boots and frantically pulled on my backpack and purse. Ellie was standing there by the door, holding a traveler mug of coffee for me.

  “Oh, my God, I love you,” I told her.

  I yanked the door open and only then realized Beckett was still sitting there on the couch, the blanket covering his waist and his shirt back on.

  “Bye, Beckett,” I waved at him. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later.”

  His arms were loose and lazy when he waved back. “Good luck on your midterm.”

  I took an extra second to smile at him. Heat infused my body once again as I took in his sleepy eyes and body that I had recently gotten to know so familiarly. “Thanks.”

  That was all the time I could give him, though. I decided to skip my car because I didn’t have time to drive around the lot looking for a parking spot. So by the time I reached my classroom, with two minutes to spare, I was a panting, sweating, not-showered mess.

  I was also wind-whipped, disheveled and unprepared.

  Seriously, I could keep going with unflattering adjectives. My morning had started out so good.

  Like, so, so, so good.

  And then chaos.

  It was safe to say my midterm could have gone better. I struggled for answers I knew and floundered on things I’d been studying all semester. I was one of the last students finished. The teacher had to give the few of us that remained three warnings about the time before I finally scrawled my answer to the last question.

  I walked dejectedly to the front of the room, and handed in a test I should have nailed.

  The professor’s concerned gaze took in the sight of me and my test and frowned. I had been doing so well in this class, but the midterm carried a huge weight.

  If I failed that test, I didn’t have much hope for the rest of the semester.

  Damn it.

  I’d meant to be up by six this morning so I could study and shower before class. There was something to say about those few minutes of pre-test cramming.

  But not only did I not get to study before the test, I’d been distracted and frazzled. As nice as Beckett felt this morning, I shouldn’t have let him sidetrack me. I shouldn’t have slept with him on the couch while my alarm sat unset in my room.

  I shouldn’t have let him spend the night at all.

  Ugh, what had I been thinking?

  I walked out of the building into the gloomy October afternoon and realized I hadn’t been thinking. That’s what Beckett did to me. He took away my ability to rationalize and use logic. He stole my intelligence and made me into a melting puddle of stupidity.

  He interfered with my plan and my list and everything I ha
d set for myself.

  My frown tightened so much that I knew it birthed lasting wrinkles on the spot. Huge droplets of water started to drop from the sky, landing on my head and face.

  I picked up my pace and wished I would have had the time to drive my car over and find a parking spot because it wasn’t a quick walk home.

  But now I didn’t have a choice.

  I had another midterm today so I could have stayed on campus, but I needed a shower and I was starving, and there was no more money on my dining account until after fall break after the weekend. The test wasn’t for a few hours, so if I went home now I would have enough time to shower, eat and get in some studying.

  I ran part of the way, but by the time I reached my apartment I was soaking wet and frozen to the bone. My cell had been stuffed into the inside pocket of my bag, so it had survived, but my books would need to dry out and my poor purse.

  My poor, poor purse.

  I plugged my cell in because it had died the night before since I’d never charged it and jumped in the hottest shower I could stand. Ellie wouldn’t be home until later, so I didn’t feel bad about hogging the bathroom. I stayed in the shower for as long as it took to make my appendages movable again and for my insides to stop shivering.

  I wrapped up in a towel, and wrapped my hair in one as well, and stepped out of the bathroom. As soon as my feet touched the hallway, my cell started ringing.

  I hurried to my room, unable to help myself. If it was Ellie, I wanted to talk to her. If it was Beckett, I wanted to talk to him too. So I could let him know that what happened could never happen again.

  On a school night anyway.

  I was open to doing it again…just not when I had a test the next morning.

  Picking up the phone without looking at the number, I said, “Hello?”

  There was a pause on the other end, and I was just about to repeat my greeting when a shaky, “Britte,” came through.

  Knots immediately formed in my stomach, and I had the strongest urge to drop the phone and run away.

  Like it was a snake.

  A poisonous snake.

  “Britte,” the woman’s voice repeated. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

  “Who is this?” An idea had started to form, but it came from my chest…not my head. And it hurt. It hurt like hell.