Bet on Me (Bet on Love #2)

by Rachel Higginson

  I smiled at him. “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

  He leaned in, pointing his finger at me. “Don’t you dare.”

  I resisted the strange and intense urge to bite his finger. “The internship is exciting, though, right? It will be nice to have prospects before you graduate.”

  He sat back, and I watched him shut down. His eyes dimmed, and his smile disappeared. “Yeah, sure. It’s a great opportunity.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him about a thousand questions, but Jameson cut me off. He stood up and pulled my attention to the other side of the table. “Well, I’m taking off,” he announced.

  I turned to look at him and felt a flood of embarrassment. Since Beckett sat down, I had totally forgotten about Jameson and Ellie.

  “A-are you?” I stuttered.

  He smiled at me, but it looked forced. “Class.”

  “Oh, right.” I glanced helplessly at Ellie, but she had already engaged Beckett in conversation. I looked back to Jameson. “Are we still on for this weekend?”

  He pulled his backpack on and looked around the cafeteria before meeting my gaze. “Sure. If you’re up for it.”

  I nodded. “I am.”

  “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

  “K.”

  “Bye, Britte.”

  “Bye, Jameson.”

  God, that was so awkward.

  As soon as Jameson left, Beckett stood up. “I have to take off too.”

  Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. “Big plans today?”

  He grinned at her. “Grayson and I are going golfing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, the hard life of grad students.”

  Beckett’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I flinched from the heat and spark and unbridled strength of him. “I forgot my hat,” he insisted. “The sun’s going to be in my face the whole time.”

  She laughed at him. “The struggle is real.”

  With a wink and a wave, he said, “Bye, little sister. Stay out of trouble”

  She saluted him.

  To me, he said, “Bye, Britte.” I turned to say bye,because I was polite and nice and not normally a snarky biotch. But he was right there, in my ear, his lips brushing my cheek as he murmured, “Answer my texts next time.”

  My eyes went big, and before I could fumble through something sarcastic, he walked away.

  I struggled to swallow as he moved through the cluster of tables looking larger than life and move-star perfect against the gray, muted backdrop of sloppy college students. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe they were all very normal looking college students, just compared to Beckett and his god-like perfect they seemed blah.

  And because of that, I willfully decided not to answer his texts again. Even while my fingers itched to pull them up so that I could read through them again.

  The cafeteria felt oddly silent after the guys left. I raised my eyebrows at my best friend and waited for her explanation.

  When she didn’t have one, I gritted out, “What just happened?”

  She held my stare. “You tell me.”

  But I couldn’t.

  I had basically ignored Jameson the second Beckett showed up. Which was so frustrating. I was still mad at Beckett for what happened at the coffee shop. And even more determined not to let him get to me.

  I was focused on Jameson. That was the decision I had made. Jameson was reliable. And nice. And everything I wanted in a potential partner.

  Beckett shouldn’t get to monopolize my attention. He shouldn’t get to dominate the conversation and my thoughts and the whole freaking cafeteria.

  Next time I would remember to ignore him.

  Next time I’d stick to the plan.

  Chapter Five

  Beckett

  The screen blurred in front of me and rows of striped shirts distorted into a blob of different colors and buttons.

  I rubbed my eyes and blinked the page into focus. Britte had been right about my hair. It was too long for Lennox’s firm. And because he had pulled so many strings to get me the internship, and only because of that, I had decided it was time to clean up my act and finally come to terms with my looming MBA.

  I had to do something with it. I had to grow up eventually. I had to get a job. Make a paycheck. Be a grownup.

  And Lennox’s firm was perfect. My degree in economics would fit in perfectly. If the internship worked out, they would start paying for part of my MBA. And when I finally graduated with my masters, I would be in a perfect position to step into the company as a junior associate.

  Plus the job had perks.

  Lennox had seen the majority of the world over the last seven years. He had a great salary. And benefits. And a car and a condo and all his important life needs were checked.

  That could be me if I did well.

  A man had to have goals, right? Those seemed good enough to me.

  Except coach’s words kept bouncing around in my skull and I couldn’t seem to forget them. He had called me in to “discuss” something about my future.

  I’d thought he had some kind of contact in the business world and wanted to offer me a connection. Instead, he’d sat me down and offered a position on his staff.

  As a coach.

  He wanted me to coach with him.

  Nothing super important right away, but he saw potential in me.

  Coach had always seen something in me that wasn’t necessarily there. One of the reasons I’d chosen UW-La Crosse was because of how hard he’d come after me. I had looked around at a few colleges that had better baseball programs, or at least more winning seasons, but Coach Benson had been the best wooer.

  He’d also made me a starter when I was a freshman when half the team hadn’t thought I’d deserved the spot. Then he’d made me captain before I thought was ready.

  Now he wanted me to be a coach.

  I’d played with those guys last year. No way were they going to take me seriously.

  I couldn’t even take myself seriously.

  I rubbed my hand over my face again and went back to shopping for shirts. I tried to focus. I really did.

  But my thoughts went right back to the baseball job. Coach was adamant that I could fit it in with the internship and grad school. I wasn’t so confident.

  My internship was only twenty hours for a probationary period. And I had two nightly grad classes, but a lot of my credits were weekend intensives or online.

  If I was honest with myself, it was doable.

  Plus, I wasn’t ready to give up baseball. I could admit that.

  It was still under my skin and on my brain. My body felt the loss of not training. Even though I stayed fit and had a daily routine, I wasn’t working toward something. For the first time since I was a little kid, I wasn’t getting ready for a season. Or in the middle of a season. Or thinking about the next season.

  My brain seemed to be missing this huge part of where I used to spend a ton of mental energy. My muscles felt lazy and boring now that they didn’t have skills to practice, to get better for.

  A couple of months ago, this was a big part of my life that I thought about all the time, and now it was just…gone.

  But was coaching the answer?

  Or was I just trying to prolong the inevitable?

  In high school, one of the guys that had been a senior when I was a freshman used to come back for our games. He would sit behind the dugout and yell at us during the entire game. Then he’d show up at the parties afterward and try to talk to us about what we were doing wrong or how we could have played better.

  I didn’t want to be that guy.

  Slamming my laptop lid down, I jumped to my feet and decided not to think about it anymore. I was only feeling more depressed about giving up baseball, and less than thrilled for this internship opportunity.

  I needed to push all of those dumb thoughts out of my head and focus on what was important.

  My parents still paid for my apartment. They’d paid for Grayson and Lennox’s to
o until they got a job after graduation and could eventually support themselves.

  I hadn’t thought anything about it until my sister had gone all rogue with her money and refused to let my parents help at all. She wanted to be independent. Pay for her own shit.

  At first, I’d thought she was just rebelling in her very Ellie-like way. But after a while, I realized she was serious. It was important for her to support herself…to take care of herself.

  Those thoughts mingled with all the others. It was like once I heard all that shit from Ellie, I couldn’t unhear it.

  Now I was overcome with obsessing; it infected me like a disease.

  Coach said he’d pay me if I joined his staff. It wouldn’t be a ton of money, but enough to cover rent and the few bills I had. I’d still need help from my parents to pay for school.

  There wouldn’t be an offseason either. I would stay on board to help with recruiting and player conditioning.

  It wasn’t an assistant job or anything. But it would keep me in the game.

  But was that what I wanted?

  Did I even know what I wanted?

  I glanced at my phone sitting on my coffee table. I knew what I wanted. At least I knew one thing I wanted.

  I stretched out on my couch, a deep leather thing that my mom and Ellie had picked out for me when I moved in, and grabbed my phone. I scrolled through some texts I didn’t feel like answering and checked some scores before opening the contact I’d been trying to avoid.

  It had been four days since I sat with Britte at lunch. I had been trying to give her space. It hadn’t been easy.

  Especially after she’d been all flirty and giggly with me in the cafeteria. She could pretend like she didn’t want anything to do with me all she wanted, but I knew the truth.

  I just needed her to see it too.

  I want to see you.

  My thumb pushed send before I could talk myself out of the text. Sure, it was bold and forward and probably going to scare her off. But I was tired of playing games with this girl. I wanted to get to some substance.

  I wanted to get back to where we left off all those months ago.

  When she didn’t reply right away, I flipped on a late game and tried not to check my phone every thirty seconds. Twenty minutes later she finally got back to me.

  I’m studying.

  I smiled at my phone. I hadn’t meant tonight. I didn’t even think to hope for tonight. Closing out Britte’s text box, I opened Ellie’s.

  And stared at it.

  It was embarrassing to ask my little sister for advice. I didn’t really want to stoop to that level. I’d asked my brothers for advice and that had been bad enough. But I was so out of my league with Britte.

  Girls didn’t usually put up this much of a fight. Until I didn’t call them back. Then the claws came out, and they decided to show me their true colors.

  Britte was the opposite of everything I’d ever experienced. She wouldn’t even give me a chance. The one date I’d convinced her to let me take her on had ended as quickly as it started. When we were together, it was impossible to deny our chemistry. Only that’s all she did.

  Deny. Deny. Deny.

  She was the queen of denial.

  And the thing was, if she really wasn’t interested, if she really wanted nothing to do with me, I would have backed off. There had been girls in the past, albeit few and far between, that wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn’t their type. Or they already had a boyfriend. Or they were aliens. Whatever. They weren’t interested in me, and I could respect that.

  But that wasn’t Britte.

  She had been the one to initiate this whole goddamn thing and then when shit got real she ran away.

  I finally closed Ellie’s text and opened Britte’s again. She hadn’t said no. Tomorrow then.

  Only five minutes passed before she texted back this time. I have plans. Another minute later she added, With Jameson.

  This time, she made me smile. Trying to make me jealous?

  I don’t know what I’m trying to do with you…

  I laughed out loud. The sound ricocheted against the baseball announcers and filled my usually silent apartment.

  How about you go to dinner with me? You could try that.

  I imagined I could hear her sigh through the phone. Your tenacity is exhausting.

  I’m tenacious???

  It took another five minutes before she said. Where would you take me?

  Cheddars.

  I smiled because I knew that would piss her off.

  Her reply was almost instant. Wrong answer.

  My next pick was the restaurant she worked at with my sister. Bailey’s.

  Are you trying to get me to say no?

  I smiled at my phone. Are you actually going to say yes?

  If you pick the right restaurant.

  It was at that point I decided to make her wait. I left my phone on the table and took a shower. I had run earlier tonight, and I hadn’t rinsed off yet. Then I pulled out some classwork and got ahead on some reading.

  Hadn’t I just said that I was tired of playing games?

  What I meant was that I was tired of losing her games.

  I was fine with winning.

  It was near midnight when I decided to go to sleep. I grabbed my phone and headed to my bedroom. I stretched out in bed and finally gave into the urge to see if I’d gotten to her.

  I had three missed texts from Britte. See? She wanted this.

  Were you joking?

  Beckett?

  You’re so annoying.

  I finally texted back. My best guess. Thai.

  Ten minutes later she surprised me by texting back. When?

  If you’re busy Friday night, let’s go Saturday night.

  Her reply was instant. Maybe…

  I probably should have quit while I was ahead, but I decided to play it a little risky. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet. What are you still doing up?

  I’m studying…I have like three hours left. Or until I fall asleep. Whichever comes first.

  Geez. Late night.

  It was another minute before she texted, The usual.

  Your life makes me tired.

  You make me tired.

  I didn’t know what to say after that. But then she sent a winky face. If I had to bet, I would say it surprised her as much as it did me.

  I sunk deeper into my bed. I have a big night ahead of me, too. If I don’t stop texting you soon, I’m not going to get my full eight hours of sleep.

  Are you trying to make me jealous?

  I’m trying to make you horny. You know, since you’re now picturing me in my bed. Naked.

  I laughed again when she immediately texted, Oh, my God. Goodnight, Beckett.

  Night, Britte. See you Saturday.

  Because she was Britte and because she couldn’t let me get the last word, two minutes later I got, Maybe…

  There had to be something wrong with me, but I loved that about her. I loved that she didn’t take my shit or give me exactly what I wanted.

  I had too much of that.

  Friends had always been like that. School had been like that. Girls had been like that. Even my parents were like that.

  Sometimes. Even though I loved them, I knew I was spoiled.

  But baseball had never been easy. I’d worked my ass off. Sure, maybe there was some natural athleticism in my genes, but that didn’t mean I picked up a bat and started swinging aces. I had to work to get good and stay good. And get better.

  Coach started me freshman year because I deserved it. Because I hustled harder than any other person up for my position. He made me a captain for the same reason. Because I put in the time and the effort and didn’t give up. I was determined to win and be the best and make my team the best.

  Now I didn’t have baseball anymore, and I’d lost this huge section of me. I still had the drive. I would always have it. It wasn’t something I could lose after all these years.

  But it nee
ded a direction. There was too much energy and will and like Britte said… tenacity.

  I needed a challenge.

  I needed a goal.

  Britte would be a perfect redirection of energy. Not that she was some project, but that I found I wanted to win her. I wanted to prove to her that I wasn’t this horrible person she thought I was. I wanted her to see me—really see me.

  And I had never wanted that before.

  It had never mattered before.

  So like with most things, I decided to go after what I wanted full speed ahead. I didn’t question my motives or give into my fears. I examined the problem, I considered the risks and I determined my method. But it wasn’t a question of why.

  It was a matter of how.

  I’d start with dinner. Saturday. She could hang out with Jameson tomorrow night and me on Saturday night and compare the two of us. It didn’t take a genius to see that she wanted to want Jameson. I’d witnessed enough of the two of them together that I knew she was trying to get his attention. And because Jameson wasn’t an idiot, she had his attention.

  But I also had the cafeteria to compare with. She’d not said two words to him once I showed up. Not until he left.

  Britte and I had something. Sparks of something that could be hot and electric.

  Whatever she was trying to do with Jameson was nothing but lukewarm and forced.

  That meant Thai food couldn’t just be Thai food. It had to be something bigger. Something to prove to her that she should give up on Jameson and give us a chance.

  At least a chance.

  That was a lot of pressure for this date. Good thing I played well under pressure.

  I kicked my covers down so I could roll underneath them. Reaching over I plugged my phone into the charger and set it on my nightstand. I clicked off my lamp and lay on my back, looking at the now obscured ceiling overhead.

  My mind had trouble shutting off at night. For the majority of my life, I would go over plays and repetitions to lull my brain to sleep. But the difficulty had flared up since the season ended last summer and I didn’t have that anymore.

  Tonight my thoughts bounced between Britte and Coach’s offer. If I took the coaching job, I would be the difficult asshole with my internship. The one that probably ended up getting fired because he could never work overtime or weekends. During the season, I would have to travel a ton. And most of my nights would be tied up with practices.