Betting On It

by Violet Blake

  “I knew that if I wanted to see you again, I’d have to make the first move. Which kind of sucks because I don’t know why you were upset in the first place, but whatever.”

  He opened his mouth.

  I held up my hand, flinging a dagger-like scowl his way. Right between the eyes.

  He closed his mouth and relented with a humble nod.

  “And three: If you didn’t want to talk, that’s fine. But you can’t fault me for asking, because here’s the thing. I’ve had shitty things happen to me that I don’t want to talk about, either. Maybe…maybe we can meet halfway. Or not. In which case there are no hard feelings, and we move on. But you don’t get to just clam up and walk away. Not without giving me something.”

  He sat there, showing all the emotion of one of the pens on his desk, for a few moments.

  I rolled my eyes and let out a long sigh, letting the back of my head hit the door. Which hurt. I straightened. “All right, I’ve said my peace. Ball’s in your court, Callahan.”

  I pushed through the door and slipped through. He hadn’t said anything, and this wasn’t resolved, but I’d done what I came to do and didn’t break into tears or completely wuss out. So score one for Blair.

  Down the hall I walked, giving the receptionist a megawatt smile and thanking her as I left.

  Outside I put on my sunglasses. Adrenaline squeezed a rush of tears out of my eyes. I might have grown a temporary spine, but it didn’t mean I was invincible.

  Too wired to even contemplate eating lunch, I sat on a park bench under a tree and watched people go by. I was shaking and sad and scared. I hated it.

  This was when I would call Jessica to talk me off the ledge. She’d done it a thousand times when I was with Ethan, when his silver tongue turned to razor wire. Now? No way in hell could I call her about Sawyer. Too close to home.

  Damn it, I was an idiot. Why couldn’t I have found somebody who wasn’t my best friend’s family? If I had a wall in front of me, I’d bang my head repeatedly, until I had a grasp on common sense.

  A woman came to sit next to me, and she opened a brown paper bag and took out a sandwich. As if I weren’t there, she bit into her sandwich, and still chewing, she turned to me, hefting a healthy dose of concentration on me.

  “You have a little…” she motioned to my eye. “Your mascara is running.”

  Crap.

  “Thanks,” I said, and took my compact out of my purse. I opened it and licked my finger to wipe it off. I moved the mirror to check my other eye, and saw that either Sawyer was photobombing my compact or I was having some sort of heat-induced hallucination.

  I turned my seat, snapping the compact shut. He stood in front of me, red-faced, sweaty, and panting.

  “I ran,” he said, bending at the waist to catch his breath. “Please don’t go away. Stay and let me talk to you and explain what happened.”

  “Oh, my God,” the woman whispered next to me. “Let him explain, honey. If you don’t, I’ll let him tell me whatever he wants to tell you.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve got this.”

  “Good girl,” she said.

  Too wary to become excited, I stood and put my hands behind my back, crossing my fingers. “Let’s get you some water, Sally.”

  I walked to a food cart and bought a bottle of water. “Here,” I said, and handed it to Sawyer.

  “Thanks.” He guzzled at least half of the bottle, took a deep breath, and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

  “I take it you didn’t come here for the awesome workout,” I said, and rested my butt against a brick planter. I crossed my arms and tried to keep my face placid. Torn between kissing him crazy and yelling at him, I figured the best thing to do was to play it cool and make him sweat. Figuratively.

  He gulped down the rest of the bottle. “I didn’t realize how crazy running in a suit in ninety-five-degree weather would be until I found you.”

  “Well, that suit’s never going to be the same again.” The thing was just about plastered to him by now. “You could’ve just called.”

  “I know.”

  “So…”

  “Begging for forgiveness is hard to do over the phone. You wouldn’t get to see me grovel, for one.”

  “Oh?”

  “And you wouldn’t get to see how torn up I am after being such a dickhead.”

  “Ah.”

  “Can we go back to my office?” he asked. “There’s air-conditioning there, and my groveling will be much more enthusiastic.”

  I nodded and walked with him to the brewery, past the smiling receptionist—I could’ve sworn I heard her sigh on the way by. Once we were inside his office he shut and locked the door, and sat on the edge of his desk. I stood at the door again, my arms crossed.

  “Everything you said was right.”

  “Of course it was,” I said.

  “I made you cry,” he said, his brows drawing together in a V.

  “Don’t rub it in.”

  “I was so taken aback by you showing up, and what you said. It took a few moments to process, for all of it to sink in.”

  “And?”

  He gave me a crooked smile, one that betrayed his inner vulnerability more than it assured. So he wasn’t invincible, either. “You’re not cutting me any slack.”

  “Hell, no, I’m not.” If I’d learned one thing over the last several months, it was that life was too short to let people trample you.

  “I’m so sorry, Blair. I didn’t want to talk about why I acted like that Saturday. I still don’t. But I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I scared the shit out of you, made you feel unsafe.” He met my gaze levelly and regret darkened his features. “I hurt you. I know I did, and I couldn’t—I didn’t want to see you I was so mortified.”

  “What happened, though? I’ve spent a few nights with you, and might spend more with you in the future if the next couple of minutes goes well, so can you give me something?”

  He swallowed and nodded. “That movie, I heard the screaming, and I didn’t know where I was…it reminded me of… There was nothing you could’ve changed. I’m the one who’s fucked up.”

  He thought he was fucked up? Heartbreaking.

  I took his cup and filled it with water, then handed it back to him, the task giving me a way to hide my sadness, and think of a worthy response. “If you decide you want to talk one day, I am here. If there is something you know of that will trigger…that…again, tell me.”

  He nodded and drank from the cup, his eyes glinting most evilly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  And my Sawyer was back. My dirty little mind was already formulating ways he could start his restitution. “Your apology is accepted. You’re pretty good at the whole grand gesture thing. Kind of romantic, actually.”

  He grinned, confidence back in check. “Nothing but the best from me.”

  “Don’t get cocky, Sally.”

  He held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me to him, into a warm, sweaty bear hug.

  “Come over tonight?” he asked.

  “I’ve been working eighteen-hour days all week to stay caught up at work,” I lamented.

  Although the corners of his mouth turned down ever so slightly he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Maybe I could stop by after work tomorrow, though? Unless you’re too busy?”

  “Not a chance,” he said. “I’ll be working late anyway, so stop by the hostess station in the restaurant and she’ll let you up.”

  “It’s a date. Oh, and Callahan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Leave those glasses on, will you? Don’t shave, either. And, uh, don’t comb your hair.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” I said, walking up to him. “You’re going to make my sex-with-a-nerd fantasy come true.”

  He coughed into his fist. His cheeks pinked. “Jesus, woman. How am I supposed to get anything done today?”

  “You’re not blushing, are you, Sally?”

  “That’s
Mr. Callahan to you.”

  “Like hell. I can’t believe I made Mr. I-have-no-shame blush. I’m going to have to write this down.”

  “You can write that down,” he said, “along with a list of all the rules I’m going to break.”

  I met his gaze head on, licking my lips. “Bring it, jackwagon. I can’t wait to see you try.”

  ...

  Another long workday kept my worries aside. Sleep last night came easily at least, the combination of relief and no air-conditioning putting me into an instant coma when my head hit the pillow.

  Friday afternoon, though, the entire week left me exhausted, overheated, and more than a little sick of being awake in general. Jess and Emily would be at our usual date in about an hour, so around five I sent Sawyer a text to let him know I was done for the day.

  I showed up at the front entrance and found the hostess. “Hi, I’m here to see Sawyer?”

  Dressed in one of the brewery’s brand T-shirts and a denim skirt, she looked me up and down, her expression bored. “Are you Blair?”

  Lips tight, I smiled. “I am.”

  After she led past the restaurant and ushered me toward the side of the building for business, I marched down the hallway to his office like fucking Beatrix Kiddo on her way to kill Bill. I rapped on the door three times.

  “Yes?” he called.

  I let myself in and locked the door behind me. “Oh, good. I’m happy to see you can follow directions.”

  He lounged back in his chair and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Sometimes. How was your day, dear?”

  “Dear?” I waltzed up to his desk and perched my butt on it. Crossing my legs, I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the ridiculous smile that threatened.

  “Did you get my groveling flowers?”

  Every hour today I’d gotten a new delivery. He was ridiculous. And sweet. But mostly ridiculous. “And the groveling tea, the groveling oil paints, and the groveling artist’s easel. Oh, and the groveling La Perle delivery? By far my favorite. You’ve really written the book on the subject, Callahan.”

  “I might’ve gone a little overboard.”

  “Might have? I love the gifts, but all you have to do is say you’re sorry and we’re good.”

  He ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Blair. For all of it. Especially the groveling smoothie.”

  I smiled. “Much better. You busy?”

  “Never too busy for you.”

  “Good answer.” I shifted so I stood between his legs, between him and the desk. “You look like you could use a break.”

  “And you look like a woman on a mission,” he said, leaning closer to me. His hand rested on my hip, then moved down my thigh, to the hem of my skirt. “What’s on the agenda?”

  “Why don’t you unzip your pants and find out?”

  His mouth dropped open in faux astonishment. “That is so inappropriate.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.” I grabbed his tie and pulled him to me for a kiss. Ever the multi-tasker, he unzipped his pants while I kissed the hell out of him.

  I put my hand on his abs and drew little circles around his muscles, enjoying the way they twitched under my touch. When my fingers drifted to his trail, I followed it down until I reached his cock. Wrapping my hand around it, I gave it a gentle squeeze. Sawyer leaned back in his chair, and I positioned myself between his legs. I sank down, and licked the tip of his penis.

  “Blair…”

  I took the first few inches of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head. Truth is, I had very little experience in blowjobs. Yeah, I’d done it for Ethan, but he’d never seemed to get much enjoyment from it. Odd, right?

  Thing was, I might’ve become just a wee bit addicted to the way Sawyer reacted when I touched him. No matter how inexperienced or nervous I was he’d made me feel comfortable, uninhibited, like I could do anything and he’d love it. He’d gently guided me to show me how to please him when I wasn’t sure, never making me feel like an idiot. And in kind, I knew I could do the same for him now—the man took direction like a champ.

  Between my mouth and my slick hand, every inch of him was taken care of.

  I grabbed his Adonis ass with my other hand. He moved with me, his hands playing with my hair and caressing my neck.

  “I’m going to come,” he bit out.

  I sucked harder, touching him in all the places I knew would push him over the edge. It didn’t take long. His cum filled my mouth, and when his orgasm died down I swallowed, savoring the salty taste. I licked my lips and used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth.

  Shaking fingers tangled in my hair. I stood, triumph and embarrassment warring inside me. It wasn’t until he pulled me to him for a kiss that I let go of the embarrassment and wrapped myself up in him.

  His phone rang and he groaned.

  “Don’t you need to get that?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  He shot a pouty glare at the phone, the pain in his eyes evident. “Sorry.”

  “You can show me how sorry later tonight. I have to go see your cousin now for drinks.”

  “No kissing and telling.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jessica and Emily had already arrived at the pub, and sat at a booth. Drinks of the cocktail variety sat on the table, and I about passed out from relief when I saw my favorite—a pina colada—already in the empty spot.

  Emily gave me a knowing smile, then dumped some liquor from a flask into her diet soda. “Somebody’s awfully smug.”

  “Oh?” I sat, my voice so very not nonchalant.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. You’ve just done something from the list?”

  I took a long pull from my drink. Which was a shitty idea because brain freeze. I winced and pinched my nose.

  “How many down?” Jess asked, laughing.

  I held up my hand and wiggled all five fingers.

  “Not bad for two weeks,” she said.

  My brain freeze had pretty much subsided, and I shot my drink a dirty look. “He’s an athlete.”

  “No,” Emily said, putting her hands over her ears. “Just…no.”

  “Sorry, but I believe you guys were the ones who set this up? Not my fault I happened to do it all with your cousin. Who, I might add, you practically offered up on a sacrificial altar for me.”

  “A circumstance we’re now regretting,” Emily said.

  Jessica laughed and high fived me. “I’m proud of ya, girl. Just out of curiosity, how are you guys pulling off the friends with benefits thing? That would be…I don’t think I’d be able to do that with a guy.”

  Jessica and Emily watched me, and I knew I’d have to answer carefully. This was touchy no matter how you spun it.

  “I don’t feel like anything has changed much. Yeah, we’re having sex, but it doesn’t feel weird.” It feels terrifying. And awesome. But mostly terrifying.

  Emily snorted. “Have you seen you two together? You may think it’s just a casual thing, but—”

  Jessica’s glower stopped her like a slap. “Emily. Don’t.”

  Emily put her hands up. “What? It’s not like it’s a huge secret.”

  My insides turned to goo, and I silently willed the topic to go away.

  Jessica put her hand on mine under the table. “Whether they take it further is up to them. Hence the thirty-day trial run, right?”

  I nodded. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

  Jessica shook her head. “You’re fine. We love you both and want you to be happy. You’re in different places right now is all. I’m sure it’ll work out how it’s meant to.”

  Emily, loosened by her second shot in half an hour, wasn’t ready to let it go at that. “Bet or not, just go for it. Everybody thinks you guys are a thing anyway, so why not make it real? Nobody’s said anything about you being poor and him being filthy rich, and it’s not like—”

 
; “Emily!” Jessica said, glowering.

  Emily’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean anything. Ugh. Too much vodka. S-sorry, Blair.”

  Jessica waved at the waiter. “Can we get a pitcher of ice water, please? And another pina colada. On me,” she said, quelling my protest.

  How great would it be to not have my friends treat me like a charity? Yet another reason why I would be wise to keep things platonic with Sawyer. The last thing I wanted from him was charity.

  “Are you going to stay with him again this weekend?” Emily asked, taking a big swig of water.

  Still smarting from the poor comment from her, I made sure my smile was in check. “We’re having dinner tonight.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she said, but she didn’t look at all happy. Now I had to wonder how much she’d had to drink before I’d arrived, and what had happened prior to that.

  I shrugged and checked my watch. I still hadn’t told anybody about my broken down car. And I wouldn’t. But I only had forty-five minutes left before I’d have to walk to Sawyer’s, and I had another pina colada coming. Make that twenty minutes before I had to leave. Because walking on heels after two cocktails? Not easy.

  “Are you okay?” Jess asked.

  I snapped out of my reality check and nodded. “Lots going on this week is all. I needed this.”

  She reached into her purse for her phone. A few seconds later I got a text.

  Jessica: Don’t feel bad about Emily. Parental issues today. We’ll talk later, OK?

  Blair: No worries.

  Exactly twenty minutes later I snuck a twenty under my napkin and hugged them good-bye. Ten minutes into my incredible journey my feet were killing me and the heat was intolerable with this outfit.

  Fifteen minutes later Sawyer greeted me at his door. “I don’t know how you walk in those things.”

  Embarrassment filled me. “I had a few drinks and didn’t want to drive. It’s all good, though.”

  “You should’ve called me,” he said, stepping aside so I could go inside.

  “I needed the fresh air.” I kissed him before he could argue, kicking off my shoes.

  He broke off the kiss. “Are you hungry?”

  A man’s voice called from upstairs. “Sawyer?”