Bet on Me (Bet on Love #2)

by Rachel Higginson

  Chapter Ten

  Britte

  It was easier to pick out something to wear this time. It probably shouldn’t have been. I should be more nervous. Or paranoid. Or something. But instead, I felt more like myself.

  Don’t get me wrong, I was nervous. Beckett was hilarious and gorgeous and charming. Whenever I was around him, I felt like giggling like a maniac and puking at the same time.

  And could you imagine that?

  Seriously imagine someone laugh-puking.

  So gross.

  He also made me paranoid. I didn’t get why he had this thing for me. He could have anybody. Or nearly anybody. Throughout his undergrad, girls flocked to him. He had a new flavor every week, or two. Fangirls followed him around naked. Or nearly naked. So, why was he interested in me?

  And because of that, I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust that he wanted a relationship with me because I assumed he just wanted to finish what we started the night I drunkenly made out with him. I hadn’t exactly been subtle with my seduction attempt. Although I did chicken out. So that counted for something.

  Also, I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t bail the second someone better came along. And someone better would come along. There was nothing spectacular about me. I wasn’t ugly. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy. But I wasn’t enough of the things that would keep a man like Beckett’s attention for long.

  And then what?

  So, no. I didn’t trust him.

  But at the same time, I was tired. I was physically exhausted from a weekend of late night study sessions and work and years of this same old routine catching up to me. I was mentally exhausted from trying to master everything I needed to learn before my looming midterms. I was emotionally exhausted from fighting and grappling with all of these thoughts and feelings from Beckett and my future and my mom’s sudden reappearance in my life. Although I was trying to think about that last one as little as possible. I gave her two minutes every morning where I looked myself in the mirror, thought about the last thirteen years of my life and exclaimed, “What the hell?” dramatically for my audience of one.

  Then I went on with my day.

  So by Sunday night, after all of this, what I looked like didn’t exactly hit high on the priority list.

  I did shower. I should get points for that. But after coming home from Baileys and smelling like fry oil, rib baskets and chocolate lava cake, I couldn’t even stand the smell of me. It was bad.

  So, I showered again. And then it seemed right to get all pretty. Because of the laughing-puking feeling I knew would be here soon. I was pretty comfortable in my own skin, but in case of emergency, I needed to at least look pretty while the puking-apocalypse happened.

  My hair looked amazing. My makeup was on point. My outfit was…me. Boho-style loose lacy top with silver beading and a gray cardigan that hit my hips. I added faux leather leggings and ankle boots because the weather had gotten decidedly cooler this week.

  I threw on some bangles, a dangly necklace, some chandelier earrings and a mood ring that I’d gotten out of a vending machine and felt ready for battle.

  Or a date with Beckett.

  Either way.

  Ellie whistled when I walked into the kitchen. “I know,” I told her, full of swagger that was only outfit-deep.

  “B, you’re so hot.”

  I smiled at her. “I know!”

  “Are those new boots?”

  I kicked my foot out like a ninja just to get rid of some of the building nerves pooling in my belly. “They are. It’s BOGO at Payless.”

  “Ooh!”

  Neither Ellie nor I had a huge amount of cash to shop with. That didn’t mean we didn’t shop. We just had to be picky about our choices. Luckily, we’d gotten amazing at finding great pieces in our budget for our style. Thrift stores, Payless, the clearance bins at most mall stores. If you knew what you were doing, you could not overspend and still look great.

  That was to say, we didn’t overspend often.

  Let’s face it, sometimes cute clothes were more important than eating. Or paying bills. Or having gas for our cars.

  She was leaning over a bowl of cereal. “Is that your dinner?”

  She looked down at her Golden Grahams. “Yep.”

  “Is that all we have? I swear there are some chicken nuggets in the freezer.”

  She waved me off with her spoon. “No, really. This is all I want. Fin spent the weekend trying to overfeed me because he’s convinced the only thing I eat are Ramen noodles and burgerwiches. I swear the man is on a mission to make me gain twenty pounds every time he comes to town.”

  “Ellie, you do only eat Ramen noodles and burgerwiches.”

  She pointed the spoon at me now like a weapon. “I like burgerwiches. And Ramen is so cheap. I can’t not eat it.”

  “You can,” I assured her. “You can not eat it. Pretty easily.”

  “Anyway,” she cleared her throat. “I’m so sick of food nothing else sounded good. If I ever see another French fry again, I’ll puke.”

  I laughed at her dramatics. “Well, we both know that isn’t true.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me and took a big bite of cereal. “At least give me a couple of days to recover.” Her intuitive gaze swept over me again. “So what’s up with you? I take it you won’t be joining me for cereal tonight?”

  “I have a date.” I felt the blush creep over my cheeks and spread to my neck.

  “Oooh,” she singsonged. “With Jameson? Did your study sesh go that well?”

  I rolled my eyes and dug deep for courage. I knew I had her blessing; she’d only given it to me a million times. But it was still weird to confess feelings for Beckett to his sister. “Uh, actually with Beckett.”

  She nearly choked on her Golden Grahams. “With Beckett?”

  “Don’t choke to death,” I ordered.

  “Britte, are you for real? With Beckett?”

  “Yes. I’m for real.”

  “Two dates? In two weeks? Are you guys dating? Is this like a permanent thing? Oh, my God, are you getting married?”

  “I would throw my shoe at you if it wasn’t so difficult to get on and off.”

  She grinned at me. “It’s so fun, though. You get so uncomfortable. It’s like a game.”

  “It’s not at all like a game.”

  She held up her thumb and pointer finger close together. “It’s a little like a game.”

  “You’re a horrible person. I never did this to you and Finley.”

  “Well, that’s obviously because you’re nicer than me. Nobody is arguing with you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We’re not getting married, but this is a second date. I guess. Or is it the third? Or fourth? Honestly, I have no idea what our date number is.”

  She grinned at me again, and it made me nervous because of how happy she looked. “You like him.”

  “Els…”

  Her spoon flashed through the air again. “I’m not getting my hopes up. I know you have a thing with…a thing. I’m just happy you’re giving someone a chance. And I’m even happier that that someone is my brother.”

  “What if I break his heart?” She threw her head back and laughed like a maniac. I didn’t blame her. I knew it was impossible too. But to save my pride, I pushed, “What if I crush him? Damage him beyond repair? What if he never dates again because I’ve squashed his poor little pea-size heart beneath the heel of my fabulous boots?”

  Still laughing, she met my gaze and suggested, “Then you’re probably doing womankind a favor. Think of how many hearts he’s smooshed beneath his baseball cleat? There must be reparations.”

  “I thought you were on his side?”

  She shrugged. “I’m always on his side. He’s my brother. Plus, I think he’s a pretty good guy beyond brotherly love. However, I also know what happened when he was Mr. Baseball Super Stud. Girls were disposable. It’s not the same for him anymore.”

  “What are you saying? Now that he doesn’t have access
to his fan club, he’s picked me to waste time with.”

  Her brows drew down with concern. “How did you get that from what I just said?”

  My stomach clenched with unease. I felt uncomfortably insecure, and I hated it, so I chose to shrug and not answer her.

  “B,” she sighed. “That was not at all what I meant. Truly, I think he’s realized his glory days are over. It’s time to settle down.” Her spoon pointed at me again. “And don’t even take that in a negative way. He’s getting serious about his future. That’s a compliment to you. Not an insult.” She looked down at her bowl. “Great, now my dinner is soggy.”

  I smiled. My best friend was amazing.

  No wonder Fin fell head over heels for her.

  “El, I love you.”

  She was already in the process of dumping out her milk and mushy Golden Grahams and refilling her dinner. “I love you too,” she said sweetly. “Now go away so I can eat my dinner in peace.”

  I had just decided not to go away just to bug her when a knock at the door caused a riot of butterflies to assault my insides. My hands shook as I opened the door and let Beckett in.

  We stared at each other for a few seconds before he stepped through the doorframe. His smile was soft and maybe a little tired, but adorably crooked and filled with all that charm he carried with him.

  “Hey,” he rumbled from deep in his chest.

  “Hey.”

  “You look really good, Britte.”

  I chewed my bottom lip while I thought the same thing about him. His army green short sleeve button up accentuated his toned biceps and tanned arms. The jeans that hung from his hips were nice and dressy, but still casual enough that I didn’t feel underdressed. His hair was pushed back and styled away from his forehead, and I just wanted to…

  Lick him.

  “Hey, Becks,” Ellie called from the kitchen. “Don’t talk to me, I’m eating.”

  Beckett turned to his sister. “Okay…”

  She shoveled a big bite of cereal into her mouth and mumbled, “You two kids have fun.”

  Beckett looked back at me with his eyebrows raised.

  “I think she’s dismissing us,” I offered.

  His lips twitched, and I wasn’t sure if the near smile was for me or his sister. “Clearly.” He reached for the door and tugged it open, gesturing for me to go first. “Should I be concerned that my little sister is eating cereal for dinner?”

  I smiled at the care and concern curling around each of his words. “She says she’s detoxing from Fin’s weekend visit. Apparently he’s always trying to feed her. She’s tired of real food.”

  Beckett laughed behind me as we made our way down the stairs to the lobby. “Only Ellie would get tired of eating normal. She’s probably jonesing for Ramen and ketchup sandwiches.”

  “Those were almost her exact words.”

  We reached the bottom floor, and he held the door to the parking lot next. His side eye glance caught my attention. “How into Ramen are you? Should I be concerned?”

  I laughed. “The only kind of ramen I can handle is the real kind.”

  “The real kind?”

  “You know like the kind with an egg in it and pork belly. The good kind.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  I laughed again because he sounded so uneasy. “But I’m a big fan of burgerwiches. Although I can’t eat them as often as Ellie does.”

  “Those are her pickle and ketchup sandwiches?”

  “Sometimes we add tomatoes and mustard.”

  “That’s so gross.”

  I turned and dazzled him with my brightest smile. “Says the man letting me pick the restaurant tonight.”

  His warm gray-blue eyes flashed with fear. “How weird are we talking?”

  Leaning in, I inhaled the deliciousness that was Beckett Harris. “I’m going easy on you tonight. Sushi.”

  “Sushi is going easy on me?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Relatively speaking.”

  He took another step into me and dropped his hands on my hip. We’d managed to stop just in front of his Charger. “What if I told you I don’t like sushi?”

  My hand landed on his muscled chest, and I closed my eyes briefly because the sensation was too hot… too intense. “I’d probably assume you didn’t know how to order it.”

  His low chuckle burned low in my belly. “Ouch.”

  My eyes lifted from the hollow of his throat to those silvery eyes. “You really don’t like it?”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “No, I like it. Although compared to you, you’re probably right. I am ordering it wrong. Are you sure that’s where you want to go? We can go anywhere. I’ll eat whatever weird food you throw my way.”

  “I love sushi,” I told him. “Plus, I love it even more when someone else is paying for it.”

  He dropped his lips close to mine. I sucked in a breath and tried not to spaz out.

  “Imagine that,” he murmured.

  I had nothing to say to that. Plus, my heart had started galloping in my chest, and my mind was a muddled haze of anticipation and hope.

  Kiss me, I willed.

  I couldn’t help it. There were a hundred valid arguments that this was the dumbest idea I’d ever had but with him this close, with his warm hands holding me to him, with his chest pressed against mine and his surprisingly soft lips so close, there was only one logical thought.

  Only one idea I was capable of making out clearly.

  Kiss me.

  And then he did.

  My eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips touched mine. I shivered from the light, gentle touch. I had thought I remembered the way he kissed perfectly. I’d only thought about it a hundred thousand times since the last time we’d been out.

  But I had been wrong.

  I hadn’t even been close.

  Because nothing could have ever tasted this sweet or felt this…perfect. We moved together like we were supposed to kiss. Like our lips and mouths and bodies had been designed just for each other.

  He kissed me, and I forgot all of my reasons for staying away from him, for keeping my distance. I forgot everything but the taste of his tongue and the sweetness of his lips. I forgot everything but this man and his touch and the way his heart pounded against mine.

  “Britte,” he whispered, pulling away too soon. “I had to do that.”

  I blinked up at him, letting the world reappear slowly behind his head. “You had to?”

  He recovered much quicker than I could hope to. His half smile was there again. His twinkling eyes. His cool, collected charm. “It’s been a weird week. I needed something to hold me together.”

  My belly flipped, and my fingers tingled. What did that mean?

  No.

  My heart was miles ahead of my brain. I couldn’t think like that.

  When I just stared at him, my head at war with my heart, he pulled back completely and opened his car door for me. “But let’s go eat. I’ll tell you about it over sushi.”

  I got in the passenger seat and blinked rapidly until he climbed in on his side. I turned and smiled, hoping it looked normal. “Do you have a favorite place?”

  He shook his head. “I told you, you get to pick.” His hand reached out and squeezed my knee. More butterflies. “Where’s your favorite place?”

  I gave him the name while wondering if I was even going to be able to eat anything tonight. Beckett had me completely twisted up inside. One second, I was adamant that nothing could happen between us. And the next, I was all a melting pool of pathetic, heart-hammering girl.

  I needed to get my libido under control.

  And fast.

  We shared some small talk on the way to the restaurant. It wasn’t too far from campus, but the drive lasted long enough for us to go over things like Fin’s visit, my recent late night study sessions and his internship- which he’d remained pretty vague about.

  I was able to jump out of the Charger before he opened my
door, but he snagged the restaurant entrance. I didn’t know what to make of his overly chivalrous behavior.

  Was he trying to be super suave?

  Or was that how he was raised?

  I would grill Ellie later.

  The hostess sat us, and we spent a few minutes looking over the menu. Eventually, he just passed me the paper and small pencil.

  “I was serious before. I’m pretty sure you’re the expert when it comes to all things culinary. So you should probably order for us.”

  I took the pencil. “That is not at all true. I just eat things other than meat and potatoes.”

  “Hey, if it weren’t for you I’d still consider the Chinese food in the grocery store adventurous.”

  “The Chinese food in the grocery store is adventurous,” I promised him. “You know, if you like to take your chances with Listeria.”

  “Exactly,” he laughed. “So go ahead. Make it good.”

  “If you’re sure,” I warned. I waggled the pencil back and forth while I perused the menu again. “Well, is there anything you for sure don’t like?”

  “Salmon,” he answered quickly. “I hate salmon in sushi.”

  I lifted my gaze to meet his, surprised by his answer. “Me too. It’s one thing I can’t stand.”

  His smile stretched across his handsome face. “Well, that makes sushi easy.”

  I swallowed nervously. He had this look in his eyes I couldn’t interpret. I had no idea what it meant, just that I suddenly felt too exposed.

  Vulnerable in ways I never had.

  “Okay, so no salmon.” I dropped my gaze back to the paper and quickly filled it out with my favorites and a couple of small plate appetizers I thought he would like.

  The waitress reappeared and brought our drinks. She took the order and disappeared again.

  For one silent minute, Beckett peered at his beer while I sipped my cocktail. Another perk of going on a date, someone else bought the expensive fru-fru drinks.

  Beckett lifted his gaze from his drink and met mine across the table. It wasn’t a special moment. There was nothing happening other than a second date and dinner at a nice-ish restaurant on a normal Sunday night.

  Our gazes clashing together from a few feet apart shouldn’t have felt like something significant. It shouldn’t have felt like the world shifted beneath my feet or the stars aligned over my head. It shouldn’t have sucked the breath from my lungs or burst like fireworks in my blood.