by Natalie Rios
His lips curve into a smirk. “A kiss.”
My brows rise in confusion. “You want to kiss me? How is that a prize? You don’t even like me.” At least, I don’t think he does. Even though I swear he was checking out my ass at the Kappa party.
“Yeah, because you tried to get me kicked out of prep school.”
“False. I only tried to get you barred from graduation.”
Theo waves this aside. “Whatever. You don’t have to like someone to kiss them.”
True enough, I guess.
“Still, if neither one of us likes each other, it’s not much of a prize.” Which makes me suspicious. Why would he make a bet where there’s nothing in it for him?
“Ah, but see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Slapping both hands on the table, he leans in so our faces are close. “Getting one over on you is most definitely a prize. You’re the one girl on campus who doesn’t want to kiss me. You’re like a unicorn and the novelty of it is prize enough. But if that’s not enough to convince you...”
His lips are a breath away from mine now and his voice lowers into a husky timbre my friend Veronica refers to as his bedroom voice. “I know you’re going to like it. You’re going to love the way I nip at your plump bottom lip. The way I cup your face and cradle your jaw. The way my thumb slowly strokes along your cheek while my tongue slides over yours. I’ll have you hot, wet, and panting for me to give you more. Hearing you whimper my name will be the ultimate reward.”
All confidence, he leans back in his seat again, licking his lips. The picture of smug.
For a second, he has me under his spell. Until I remember the interrupted over-the-jeans-hand job. Until I remember he’s a domineering jerk who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. And then I start laughing. Loud, roaring guffaws that earn me angry glares from nearby tables and a scowl from Theo.
“I’m sorry,” I manage between giggles. “I’m sure the cocky asshole routine works wonders with other girls, but me? I just find it funny.”
“I’m not cocky,” he grumbles. “I’m confident. There’s a difference.”
“Still not my type.”
“What is your type?” he snaps out, like it’s completely impossible for him not to be every girl’s type.
“Not you.” Slipping on my black-rimmed glasses, I level Theo with a look. “This might be impossible for you to comprehend, but not all girls are attracted to cocksure, arrogant jocks. Especially if said jock has spoiled asshole tendencies. I’m sure you’re used to getting what you want without having to work for it, but I’m not that type of girl. That being said, I accept your bet.”
His brows lift to his hairline. “Even though you’re going to have to kiss me?”
“On the very slim chance you manage to last an entire month without bending some Zeta over the kitchen table of your frat-”
“I’ve never done that,” he chokes out a laugh. “Seriously. That was all Levi.”
“Whatever. If hell freezes over and you make it through the month, kissing you won’t exactly be a hardship.”
Theo cups a hand around his ear. “Was that a compliment coming from Allie Perez?”
“I mean, you must be good at it by now. You’ve only practiced on, what, half of Carlton’s female population?”
“Have you been keeping count? Maybe you do secretly want me.”
“Sorry, I’m not a math major. Nor do I have the time and patience to count quite that high. Now, let’s discuss terms. Since I know you’re going to fail and I don’t trust you to admit it.”
“I don’t hook up with every girl I come in contact with, you know.” Raking a hand through his hair, he sounds slightly offended. “Seriously, what kind of guy do you take me for?”
“Britney Spears has a song that sums up my opinion of you perfectly.”
“Oh, yeah? Which song would that be?”
“Womanizer. And as the lyrics go, I know exactly what you are.”
Eyes narrowed, he cocks a brow at me. “You think you’ve got me pegged, don’t you?”
“To a T.”
“You forget, I’m an athlete. I hate to lose. So here are the terms: give me your phone number and I’ll check in with you every night like a good little boy.”
I tap a pen against the surface of the table. “And how do I know you’re not with a girl, making her keep quiet until we hang up?”
“FaceTime then. You have an iPhone, right? I FaceTime you every night before I go to bed. Most days you’ll be hanging out with me anyway. Going to frat parties and stuff.”
“Yeah, about that. Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays are out. I work those nights.”
“Are you for real?” Theo shakes his head. “Those are prime drinking days. The majority of the frat parties are on those nights!”
“I have to leave early then because my shift starts at 10pm.”
He’s still shaking his head. “That’s not going to work. We agreed you were going to act like a regular college student. Parties are-”
“Regular, non-wealthy college students have to work. Which means whatever shenanigans you have in mind will have to be planned around my work schedule.”
“Where do you work that your shift starts so late?”
Ignoring that question, I write down my number and slide it over to him. “Here. Try not to lose my number among your sea of bimbos and text me when there’s a party that fits my schedule. Now, are we done here? This sociology paper isn’t going to write itself and I still have my chem homework to do.”
His frown turns into a smirk. “Sure, Perez. But be sure to mark your calendar. Thirty days from today you’re going to kiss me and the only Britney lyric you’ll be singing is Gimme More.”
Choking on a laugh, I extend a hand and we shake on it. “Game on, Theodore.”
6
Theo
I’M ALWAYS ANTSY the night before a game. Always. It doesn’t matter who we’re playing or what our record is. Without fail, I’m a twitchy mess, running plays in my head and counting down the hours until I have to step out on the field.
Ironically, that’s where I feel most comfortable. On the field, making plays.
I don’t mind watching game film. I definitely don’t mind practice. Hell, I don’t even mind getting sacked on occasion. It’s the waiting and anticipation the night before a game that drives me up the wall.
Or to a bar. Which is where I am now. Sitting in a booth at a bar in Blacksburg, Virginia. Shooting the shit and watching an old spaghetti western on the TV with Levi.
“How come bars never show porn?” Levi asks, legs sprawled out in the booth across from me.
My mouth twists into a sardonic smile. “Probably because they like having customers.”
“They would have more customers if they showed porn. Place would be packed.”
“Maybe with guys. But no girl would step foot in this place if they showed porn. And would you really want to be here if it turned into a huge sausagefest?”
“True that.”
A waitress ambles over. “Hey there, you boys need anything?”
“A glass of water would be great,” I say.
“Same,” Levi says.
“Coming right up.” She doesn’t move, instead leaning in until she’s brushing against my shoulder. And whoa, are her boobs huge. What? Don’t judge me. It’s hard for me not to notice given her low cut top and the way she’s thrusting them right under my nose. “Anything else?”
“Ah...A basket of wings?” I look to Levi. “You hungry?”
Of course, he’s noticed her rack too. And his eyes are glued there. “I could eat.”
“A basket of wings then,” I say to the waitress.
“You got it, gorgeous.” She gives me a wink and a smile full of promises before running off with our order.
“Fuck. I was going to call dibs, but clearly she’s more into blondes.”
“Go for it.”
“What?” Levi’s feet hit the floor with a thud. “Are you sick
or something, T?”
“No, why?”
“Because we’ve been friends for, what, four years? And I’ve never seen you turn down a hot, available and willing girl like that.”
True enough. The waitress is smoking. Turning my head, I watch her return with our waters. Long legs, beautiful face, and tits so huge they’re practically falling out of her top. Normally, I’d be all for it. A one-night stand with a hot blonde in a different town is my kind of Friday night entertainment. But I’m not in the mood to score tonight. I find my mind drifting back to Allie. Her fantastic ass, those pouty lips…her smug smile when she declared I wasn’t her type.
Sighing, I force myself to focus on the present. I have to stop thinking about Allie. She’s been on my mind far too often lately for a girl I’m not even sure I like.
Hell, who am I kidding? I like her. The problem is she doesn’t like me.
Two frosty glasses are set on the table and the waitress flashes me that smile again. The smile that says come find me after my shift and I’ll show you what Blacksburg really has to offer. “You boys want anything else?”
And, oh boy. The suggestive way she asks that question. Looking straight at me and only me. My dick doesn’t respond though. Not a twitch or a tingle.
It’s like with Tara in the library all over again. I was only able to get hard after thinking about Allie. And then, like my thoughts conjured her, she was there. Catching me in a situation that may have permanently cemented my position in the Fuck Off Zone.
“Yup. Thanks,” I add when the waitress still doesn’t leave. She huffs off and Levi sucks his teeth. “What?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who’s acting weird. Why did you blow off the waitress?”
“I don’t know, man. Aren’t you tired of all this?”
Levi blinks at me. “Tired of what? Getting laid?”
“No, this.” I sweep my arm in a semi-circle. “Going out. Partying-”
He lets out a snort. “We’re such party animals. Sitting at a bar, drinking water the night before a game.”
I shake my head. That’s not the type of partying I’m referring to. “Picking up groupies. Aren’t you tired of it?”
Levi extends his arm and rests the back of his hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, but maybe you’re a little delirious?”
I slap his hand away. “Fuck off. Just not feeling it tonight.”
“Not…feeling it?” Disbelief drips from his every word. “Who are you and what have you done with Theodore Montgomery? Because my man T-Rex would never turn down beautiful pussy. Never.”
His words make me cringe. They’re not too far off from what Allie said about me. Like I’m some sort of sex-crazed maniac who’s led around by his dick. Then again, I should have known better than to broach the subject with a guy who has no problem fucking girls on a shared kitchen table.
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
“Forget you said you’re tired of pussy? Sorry, not gonna happen.”
Fuck my life. Maybe he’ll back down if I give him a crumb. “Let’s just say I can’t go there anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t.”
“Can’t? Like you can’t get it up or some shit? Are you into dicks now? Because it’s cool if you are. You’re my friend and I’ll never turn my back on you. So feel free to leave the beaver to me,” he adds with a wink and fuck me. Why do I have to have such nosy friends?
I flick my crumbled up straw wrapper at him. “I can’t because I made a bet with Allie. I can’t have sex for a month.”
Levi shakes his head. “Are you kidding me? Why would you agree to that?”
“Because if I win, I get to kiss her.”
“Just kiss her? Wait.” Levi squints his eyes and scratches his head. “Wait. Who’s Allie? Is she a Zeta? Delta?”
“She’s not in a sorority.”
“Huh. What’s so special about her? I mean, you’re seriously willing to give up sex for a month just to get a kiss from her?”
I shrug, unsure how to answer him. “She hates me. Getting a kiss from her is like finding a golden ticket to the Wonka factory. And you know I love a challenge.”
I hope the nosy bastard leaves it at that. How can I explain to him something I don’t fully understand myself? But something about the way she looked at me in the library, like she was disappointed in me, really bothers me. For the first time in my life, I felt disgusted with myself. Self-conscious and just a little bit dirty.
I like to think I’m not a douchebag. Cocky? Sure. There’s nothing wrong with being confident. Horny? Absolutely. I’m a twenty-two year old red-blooded male, basically a walking hormone at this point in my life. But an asshole? One who only uses women for sex? I like to think I’m better that.
But Allie is a good person. A bit of a smartass and uptight at times, but still a good person. Smart and beautiful, she’s the type of girl you would be proud to bring home to meet your parents. I know my parents would love her, sassy mouth and all.
For a person like that to be disappointed in me? It stings, because I want to be a good person too.
“Willy Wonka?” Levi snorts, jarring me out of my thoughts. “Now I know you’re whacked in the head. You like this girl or something?”
“T likes a girl?” Harrison, one of our right tackles, suddenly appears at my side.
Fucking hell.
He, Jackson, and Mosley cram into our booth. As quarterback, I’m the smallest guy at the table, which means I have to squish up against the wall to make room for their massive bulk.
“What are we talking about?” Jackson asks.
“Nothing.”
“T’s got a crush,” Levi says over me. The waitress arrives with our food and Mosley lets out a hoot before diving right in.
“Jesus, Mo. Can you at least chew with your mouth closed?” Sadly, my attempt to change the subject doesn’t work.
“Who’s the girl?” Harrison asks between mouthfuls.
“Some chick named Allie. Do we know an Allie?”
“I don’t have a crush on her,” I cut in, shooting Levi a death glare. If he mentions the bet, I’m going to be getting so much shit for the next month.
“You just want to kiss the girl,” Levi sings, clearly not caring he’s thisclose to getting a fist in his face.
“Are you really quoting The Little Mermaid right now?”
“Says the guy who was talking about Willy Wonka and his magic factory earlier,” Levi shoots back.
“Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is a childhood classic.”
“So is The Little Mermaid.”
“Man, whatever,” Harrison interrupts. “I want to hear more about this girl that’s got T all twisted.”
“Why don’t you just fuck her?” Jackson suggests, waving around a wing. “Get her out of your system and move on like you always do?”
“Yeah, T. We can’t have our starting quarterback all distracted and shit. You’re the playmaker,” Mo adds.
“It’s not like that,” I insist. “I’m not distracted. It’s just this stupid thing we’re doing.”
“For shits and giggles?”
“Nah, worse,” Levi says to Mo. “For chaste kisses.” They all titter like it’s the most hilarious thing they’ve ever heard. And I seriously regret saying a word to Levi.
Note to self: make better friends.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. So funny. Can we please talk about something else now?”
Fortunately, Mo decides to have some mercy. “This place is dead.”
“I could go for a change in venue.” Levi looks at the rest of the table and waits for our nods. “Got any suggestions?”
“Juicy Lucy’s.”
I cock a brow. “That sounds like a strip club.”
“It is. They have private rooms and excellent reviews on Yelp.”
“Yes, because when I’m looking for a strip club, the first place I turn to is Yelp,” I deadpan.
“Hey, how else am I supposed to find out if the place is sketchy?”
“Private rooms? Sold. Let’s roll out.” Levi claps and the four of them exit the booth.
“Wait. Aren’t you coming, T?” Harrison asks.
I shake my head, but Levi ends up answering for me. Wrapping an arm around him, Levi leads the group out. “T doesn’t do strip clubs, frosh.”
I don’t. At all. I also don’t drink the night before a game. So I settle the bill, which they saddled me with, and make my way back to the hotel. Lay on the bed and consider my options. TV? Internet? Call my parents? Nope, nope, and nope.
Call Allie.
Pause. Do I want to talk to Allie?
Sure, why the hell not? I’m supposed to check in with her anyway for our little bet. And I kind of like bickering with her. It’s far more entertaining than all the ass kissing I usually get from football groupies.
It takes me two attempts (both of which she rejects), but I finally get her on FaceTime.
“Why, look who it is. Carlton’s Most Valuable Player. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she answers.
“Just checking in for the night. As you can see...” I slowly swing my phone around the room. “I’m all alone in this empty bed.”
“Aw, are you calling me because you’re lonely?” she mocks. “How sweet. Wait. Aren’t you in Virginia?”
My mouth twitches. She remembered. “Yeah.”
“It’s eight o’clock on a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be out at a bar or something?”
“I don’t drink before a game.”
“Where are your teammates?”
“Juicy Lucy’s.”
“Juicy Lucy’s?” Allie snickers. “Let me guess, strip club? I’m surprised you didn’t join them.”
I shrug. “Didn’t feel like going.”
“Too much temptation, I suppose. Well, I should go-”
“Wait!” I don’t want her to hang up yet. I’m bored and honestly, I kind of like the sassy mouth on her. “What are your wearing?”
Allie glances down at her oversized plaid shirt. “Uh, flannel pajamas?”
“Flannel, Perez? It’s September. My thermostat read eighty when I left campus.”