by D. K. Combs
“I hope you keep bringing her around, and you keep making her happy, keep making her breakfast. Because when you win this bet—and you will, because you are you, and you won’t lose just to spite me—it could go two ways. The chick can get over the kiss and you’ll get her and the bike, or you’ll betray her trust and she won’t want anything to do with you. But it’s all right, because you’ll at least get your Ducati, right? Even if you don’t get the girl, you’ll at least get something. You’ll get what you want the most—and that’s all that’s important to you while the rest of us are left to eat the shit that falls off your shoes.”
Then he left, leaving Noah to stare after him, the words ringing in his ears.
It wasn’t until he heard the thunder of the truck that he realized Chase was driving while drunk.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Did you find everything okay?” the cashier asked politely. Bristol nodded, even though the lady didn’t bother to look up at her. She scanned the barcode of the wine and cheese, then bagged them up.
As they commenced with the check-out, Bristol once again checked her phone, hoping for a text from Noah. When he’d dropped her off, he’d promised to call her, or at the very least text her, and since he’d pulled out of the parking garage, she hadn’t heard anything from him.
She slid her phone back into her pocket when she realized the woman was reading off her total.
Bristol wasn’t surprised that he had taken a while to get back to her. He’d had a long day, she thought, nodding to herself as she swiped the card. First, he had destroyed his kitchen, then snuck into the hospital to follow her. If that wasn’t enough, he’d also been confronted by Alex—who was, she quoted, an “Ex gone wrong”.
After that, she hadn’t been ready to go home. She had still wanted to spend time with him. The only thing waiting for her at her home was a fridge and an empty bed. When she was with Noah...there was so much more color to life.
“Have a nice night,” the cashier said, sticking the receipt in the bag. She picked up her bag and turned to leave—only to bump into a firm figure. She held onto her bag tighter as a hand grabbed her elbow to steady her.
“Sorry about that,” she said, glancing up—only to come face to face with Chase. “Oh, hey!”
He had started to walk by her until he did a double-take.
“Bristol?” He looked a lot less happy than he normally did. His eyes were red, and there were lines around his mouth and eyes. His normally tanned face looked waxy, except for his cheeks. They were a bright, ugly red. He didn’t sound too good, either.
“Yeah, hi,” she said, tucking the paper bag under her arm and holding her hand out. He slowly shook it, looking her up and down. “Are you okay? You look a little...pale.”
He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just came to grab some drinks. What’s… What’s up? How are you doing?”
She smiled a little. “I’m doing great. Noah showed me his shop today—”
At the mention of Noah, his face seemed to shut down. The confusion from seeing her fled, replaced by a detached gaze, like he didn’t want anything to do with Noah or the mention of him.
Okaaaay.
She gave him a tense smile, then backed away. If something was going on between the two of them, she didn’t want to be a part of it. She didn’t know Noah and his friends well enough to get involved.
“Well, I, uh—I hope you have a good night,” she said, ducking her head as she walked past him.
She would have walked past him, that is, if he hadn’t reached for her elbow to stop her. Bristol frowned, looking up at him—and that’s when she noticed the look in his eye.
The calculative, cunning look that had the hair on the back of her neck rising.
Still, she played it cool. Bristol raised a brow, looking down at her elbow expectantly. “Do you want to let go of me so I can leave?” she asked calmly, quietly. Whatever was going on with him, wasn’t good. When he leaned forward, his blonde hair flopping over one eye, she smelled it—the alcohol.
Her blood instantly turned cold.
Tendrils of fear slid down her back when she saw him smile, still leaning toward her.
She didn’t wait for him to let go. Bristol ripped her arm out of his grip and strode past him, into the frigid air of the night. If he was drunk, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Men were unstable when they drank, unpredictable. They acted out, lashed out. They didn’t care who took the brunt of their actions.
They became...violent.
As if in reaction to the thought, her shoulder stung.
Clutching the bag tighter, she strode to her car.
“Bristol,” he called out from behind her. She kept her head down, praying he would just leave. Had he driven there? Was he really driving around drunk?
She swallowed the bile rising up in her throat. She could hear his steps behind her.
“I have a lot of things to do tonight,” she said over her shoulder. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to talk.”
As quick as she could, she leaned down and grabbed hold of the handle.
It wasn’t quick enough. Before she could do anything about it, he was grabbing her elbow again, this time in a grip she wasn’t able to break out of so easily.
He jerked her around, pushing her into the car, and her heart hammered, breath coming in short gasps.
“Chase, I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m not a part of it, so please—”
“Yeah, you are,” he snarled, grabbing her by the jaw. His thumbs dug into her flesh, and she winced, trying to break out of his grasp. “Kiss me. Do it.”
“What?” she gasped. He tightened his grip on her jaw, dragging her closer to him.
“Fucking kiss me, bitch. You don’t mean shit to him.”
“Chase, let me go—” He tried to force her to kiss him, and her knee came up instinctively. She missed his junk by a few inches, but clipping his thigh did enough. He cursed, hand falling away from her face. He rubbed his thigh, groaning.
“I’m calling Noah,” she panted through the fear, the words coming through her lips harshly. Each breath was tainted with horror, with adrenaline. It had been so long since she’d felt anything close to this, and until he moved away from her door, she wasn’t going to be able to escape.
At the sound of Noah’s name, he laughed. Manically.
“You think that fuck will care? Seriously? Don’t you know what you are to him?”
She unlocked her phone with shaky fingers, trying to ignore him. Please, just work—She got it on the second try and nearly cried with the relief. She forced herself to ignore what he was saying. He was drunk and angry, and the rambles never meant anything.
“If it weren’t for me, you guys wouldn’t even know each other. I dared him to finger you at the theater.” She paused in searching for his name. “Yeah, you heard that, didn’t you? I didn’t think you’d let him, but you’re such a whore that you did.”
He laughed and the sound went down her back like nails on a chalkboard.
Bristol refused to listen. He was drunk, she thought, finding Noah’s name in the contact list. He was shitface drunk, and this was what happened when a man got drunk—hell, when anyone got drunk. They spewed crap. They lied. They tried to get a rise out of you.
He was lying, had to be. She started to inch to the front of the car, needing to put distance between them. The further she got, the better.
“And...and you know what?” Chase continued. She pressed the call button, holding it to her ear, turning away from him.
“I bet—I bet him that he could kiss Madeline. In front of you. And that—that you two wouldn’t sleep together.”
The phone rang.
“He only wants to win the bet so he can get his god damn money back. Bris...Bristol, you’re nothing but a one-way ticket to a whole lot of money for him. He doesn’t give a shit about...about you. Just his money.”
She pulled the phone f
rom her ear.
Hung up.
Stared at Chase.
“No.” She shook her head, holding his glassy eyes. “No. You’re wrong.”
Drunk men lied.
He leaned against the car next to hers, sliding his hand into his coat pocket. “I got messages—texts. I ask him how the bet is going. He...told me that he was still trying to get a kiss on Madeline.” Chase waved the phone at her face, cackling when he saw her face.
“I—” She looked down at the phone. It vibrated in her hand. The caller was...Noah.
She should answer it. Should tell him what Chase had just tried to do. What he had just said. What he’d just accused Noah of. It would be the sensible thing to do, she thought.
Instead, she slid hers into her pocket, then reached for Chase’s. She hated that her hand trembled, hated that her need to see if he was lying overcame her common sense, but she took it.
She took it, and she went to the messages. When Noah’s name came up, she started to read. There were a few about finding a girl to go to the game with him, and then right before those, was the conversation. Chase, asking how it was going.
Noah, saying he still planned on kissing Madeline. That he would let him know how it went later, that he was “going to win back that money, no matter what”…
Numb. Numbness slid through her body, starting at her heart, her gut. She physically grabbed her stomach in hopes that the sensation would go away, that with the feeling going away, so would this whole encounter.
Even as her mind adjusted to what she’d read, her heart refused to. Not even two hours ago they’d been laughing together, smiling at each other. The tension between them had been present all day. How could one of the best days she’d had in years turn out to be nothing more than a way for him to make money?
Her hand trembled as she held out the phone
“See? Told you. I told you—nothing more than money to him,” Chase said, laughing. He backed away from the car, giving her ample room to walk past him, but her feet were stuck. Glued to the ground. Turned to stone by the coldness that was taking over her.
“But this man, right here? Only friend he’s gonna have for a long while.” He snorted, the drunken sound seeming almost painful. “This gay ass right here will always be there for him. You...You, however. You aren’t shit. Just money. Didn’t you notice why he wouldn’t sleep with your skanky ass? He has to get Madeline instead!”
This....this was what she got, Bristol thought, not hearing a word out of his mouth. Later, she would remember what he’d said, would think back to it, but for now...the numbness was taking over, and it was painful. This was what she got for trying to trust someone. For trying to open up to them.
She didn’t need the voice of her insecurities this time. No, they were oddly quiet, letting her own thoughts and realizations take hold, letting her own mind create the pain of betrayal.
This...was what she got.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, the thing taking on the weight of the world.
“Hey,” Chase slurred, pointing a finger at her. A charming, drunk smile spread across his face as if he hadn’t just broken her heart. “You have a good night now. I’m...going to be at the bar. You can come with if you want. N-no? Okay.”
He ambled off, leaving her leaning against the hood of her car, her thoughts destroying her as quickly as her shattered in pieces.
Through it all, her phone continued to ring in her pocket.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Ms. Thompson, Noah is here to see you again. He just got off the elevator and is coming this way!”
The sound of his name made her eyes close. He was the last person she wanted to see. After going home a week ago, she’d avoided every call, every text.
She had no reason to see him anymore.
He’d planned on drawing her in close, just to break her heart. Destroy her, get the money. That was all he had wanted from her.
There was no other reason he’d taken her on the dates, no other reason he’d seduce her. For reasons she didn’t want to comprehend, Noah had set out to hurt her—and he had done exactly that, without even trying.
Chase had done that for him.
“Tell him I’m not in the office, please. Say that one of the board members is in again.”
“All right, but he looks a little...angry. He might not accept it this time.”
“I don’t care. The office door is locked. If anything, we can call security.”
“You got it, boss.” She hung up without another word. Madeline had been incredibly understanding about the whole situation. The first day he’d come in, the night after her confrontation with Chase, Noah had come after her.
She had expected it and been prepared for it, telling Madeline the second she walked into the office that Noah was to be told she was on sabbatical, that one of the board members had been elected to hold her place until she returned—which would be when he stopped coming around the office.
Unfortunately, he was smart. Eventually he would take the hint, and soon, he would stop coming around. When that happened, he and his stupid bet could go screw off. If she never came out of her office, he would never be able to kiss Madeline in front of her, and then his bet would be null and void.
It was a small consolation for the hurt she’d dealt with in the last week. He had been on her mind constantly, and every time she thought of him, she wanted to hit something, break something. Her emotions might be too strong for how little she knew him, but she was allowed to be hurt. She deserved to be upset over this.
For the first time in ten years, she had opened herself to someone with more than her body. She’d opened her emotions, her heart. She had started to warm up to him in a way she’d never done with anyone else.
But that’s what she deserved. That’s what she deserved for thinking that for once in her life, she could trust someone with her heart.
It was a good thing she’d never given it to him, she thought.
Bristol was glad Chase had told her. She was glad that he’d got it out in the open. He’d stopped her from making the dangerous mistake of opening herself completely to him, from giving him a part of her she had kept tucked away from the world.
She heard Madeline’s sweet voice speaking from the other side of the door, and laid her head on her arms. She had barely gotten any work done. Even with the concept being approved and the blueprints underway for the in-depth review, she couldn’t be bothered to do anything but sit and mope. Heck, even the out-of-balance accounts were rectified, which left her with nothing to distract herself.
It was hard enough climbing out of bed every day, but she knew staying at home left her vulnerable to an ambush, and she wasn’t ready for that. At least coming into work let her use Madeline as a buffer.
“She’s not in today,” Madeline said solemnly, like she had for the past six days. She was a great liar. As worrisome as that was, Bristol was grateful for it in this moment.
With her head still on her arms, she listened to Noah curse from the other side of the door.
Even though she heard his voice every day, whether it be through a voicemail or through the door of her office, it was still painful. She didn’t see his face—there was no way she could handle seeing his face without losing it.
She wanted to smack him, punch him, hit him. She wanted to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt her. She wanted to make him feel the pain she felt.
But she couldn’t. Because the second she saw his face, she would be done for. She would think about how kind he had been to her at the bar, how caring he had been at his house. She would think about all of that.
Her memories were her kryptonite, and Noah wielded them effortlessly against her. Just looking at him made her want to break, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to give in to the first person she’d opened up to. No, she was going to stay strong.
Hurting was part of life. She was going to have to do it eventually—heck, she already was. Now it was just a m
atter of overcoming it and moving on.
And the sooner Noah left, the sooner she could start recovering.
“Oh, I don’t think I should—” Madeline’s voice trailed off, and then it was completely out of hearing range. Bristol frowned, lifting her head to look at the door. Why was her voice out of earshot? Why was she leaving the desk? She wasn’t supposed to leave the desk.
Bristol stood up, creeping to the window that faced the office. She pulled back the blinds to peek.
Madeline had left the desk.
Why would she leave the desk? And where was Noah in all of this?
Had they left together?
She went to the door, grabbing the handle, but hesitated. If she went out there, she could very well be walking into a trap. Noah could have known she was there, could have known she would wonder where he and Madeline had gone and could have known she would go looking for them.
It would be the perfect way to win the bet.
She shook her head, swallowing down the nerves, conflicted.
Noah wouldn’t actually finish it...would he? She’d seen the kindness in him. Had experienced it. It hadn’t been an act. The tenderness in his touch, the way he had been so respectful towards her—there was no way a man like that could go through with the bet.
But then, if that were the case, her week of avoiding him would have been for nothing.
She bit her lip. She didn’t know what to believe where Noah was concerned. She had seen the text messages for herself. Even as respectful as he’d been, that had more than likely been a ruse to get his money.
Or at least, that’s what she thought until she remembered how genuine he had been with her when she’d been weary of using his shower… God, she hated her thoughts.
Her curiosity won in the end. She had to have faith in him, faith that he wasn’t as terrible a person as this would make him. If he really went through with the bet, she didn’t know how she would recover. But then, she had to know what was happening between him and Madeline, even if it killed her.