Bet on Me (Bet on Love #2)

by Rachel Higginson

  “Except if you’re lactose intolerant. Then you get the snake. Big time.”

  This girl. “Are you lactose intolerant?”

  “Well, no. I’m just saying. Ice cream is painful for some people.”

  “Okay, well, since it won’t hurt you and we’re celebrating, I’m taking you to ice cream.”

  “You don’t care what I want, do you?”

  I shook my head at her. “Wrong. I do care. I just know you want ice cream, and your words are all lies.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. I was hilarious. And I loved making her laugh. The way her whole face lit up. The way her eyes widened as if she were surprised that I could make her laugh. I loved the sound. And the movement of her body. And every single thing. Damn, she was something else.

  “Wait, what are we celebrating?”

  I held her gaze. “I survived dinner. No poison. That’s a big reason to celebrate, I think.”

  It was her turn to shake her head. “You’re a dork.”

  That was something coming from Britte. “So, ice cream?”

  “Okay, Beckett. Ice cream.”

  My cheeks started hurting from smiling so much. I paid for dinner, and we walked back to my truck side by side. I wanted to take her hand so badly, but I refrained. If tonight had taught me anything, it was that Britte spooked easily.

  And I didn’t want to spook her. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

  In fact, the more time I spent with this girl, the more time I wanted to spend with her. She was an enigma like that. I wasn’t even trying to get in her pants.

  Not yet, anyway.

  This was the long game. I had to play my cards right if I wanted a chance with Britte. I knew that. She was not into the whole one and done thing. And I could respect that. Usually, I didn’t want to deal with the work, but we’d already established that Britte was the exception.

  It was just such a freaking shocker. I kept waiting for that moment where I wanted to get on with it so I could be done with her.

  Instead, I felt my entire body apply the brakes. If this had to go slow, then I was on board with that. Not that I wouldn’t have totally been into whatever action Britte was into. But, I knew she wasn’t.

  At least, not yet.

  Ice cream would help. And then whatever it took after that.

  I drove us to a place near her apartment and parked the Charger away from the order window. It was the kind of place without indoor seating, but it was still nice enough that we could sit outside and not freeze our asses off. In another month, the trees would start changing colors, and the temperatures would drop.

  “Okay, Nichols, do you know what you want? Or should I guide you through the menu?”

  She stepped forward in line. Kids I recognized from campus packed the place tonight. Like, I said, it was nice and warm, so the college kids were out in droves. This September still felt like summer. You couldn’t beat Wisconsin autumns, but we would take as much heat as we could get.

  There was a chance a girl I’d spent time with in the past could show up, but I wasn’t worried. I had a past. I couldn’t change that. And neither could Britte.

  But what I could change was what I wanted now. And that was Britte. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. If girls showed up that thought they knew me, I would just prove to Britte who I’d rather spend time with. They needed to know.

  And Britte sure as hell needed to know.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Order for me.”

  I liked that. “Give me a direction. Are you a fruit and nuts kind of girl? Chocolate? Vanilla?”

  She glanced around at the patio. After a second, she decided. “Chocolate. So much chocolate.”

  “I think I could have guessed that.”

  Her attention turned to me. “Am I that transparent?”

  I held her gaze. “In no way are you transparent.” I leaned in, and she didn’t back away. I could feel her body heat, smell the sweet scent of her perfume. “But, I get the impression that you don’t often break rules, but when you do…you go all out.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, and I wanted to be the one to sink my teeth into her…to taste her. “There’s no proof of that.”

  Not a denial. I liked that. We stepped up to the order window next, and I ordered for us. “I need two Death by Chocolates.”

  The cashier took my order and my card and went to work on our order. I could feel Britte’s focus on me again. “What?”

  “I did not peg you as a chocolate lover.”

  I kept my eyes on the ice cream. “I like the brownies they put inside it.”

  “The brownies?”

  I heard the smile in her voice without looking at her. “Brownies are bomb.”

  She laughed this time. She laughed so hard she leaned on me and grabbed my arm. It was the first time she’d really touched me tonight, and I couldn’t help but turn toward her and rest my hand on her hip. It was natural, instinctive…inevitable.

  Her hand fell on my chest, and her forehead dropped to my shoulder while she continued to laugh.

  “What is so funny?” I demanded.

  Her head lifted, and her eyes glistened with humor. “Brownies are bomb? Who says that?”

  I squeezed her hip and she squirmed but didn’t step away. Then when the cashier handed our ice cream mixers through the window I handed hers over. “Try this and tell me the brownies aren’t bomb. I dare you.”

  Her eyes narrowed with the challenge. We walked over to an empty table and sat down. I straddled the bench so I could still look at her, but she leaned back against the table, crossing one of her long legs over her knee.

  I watched her take a bite of ice cream and reconfirmed my position on these brownies. Because I could watch her eat this ice cream all goddamn day. Holy shit.

  I stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth to distract me, raising my eyebrows at Britte for her opinion.

  She rolled her eyes but scooped up another bite. “Fine,” she sighed. “I can admit, these brownies are bomb.”

  I gloated. It was called for. “See? I know my brownies.”

  “I’m a brownie believer,” she admitted. “You’ve convinced me.”

  “So what you really are is a Beckett believer.”

  She shook her head at me, but smiled around her spoon. “You’re so full of yourself.”

  I leaned closer to her, unable to resist her absolutely captivating mouth. “Only when I have cause to be.”

  She leaned into me, dropping her voice and lowering her lashes, “What am I going to do with you, Beckett Harris?”

  I set my ice cream down and then reached for hers. “Kiss me,” I told her. “You should kiss me.”

  I waited a beat for her to pull away, but I didn’t wait long. I had goals and aspirations and needs.

  Mostly I had needs.

  And I wasn’t going to give her the opportunity to get in my way. When she didn’t immediately tell me to stop, I closed the distance between us and found her mouth waiting for me.

  Her lips were cold and sticky. She tasted like chocolate. She was goddamn delicious.

  I didn’t want to push her, even though I couldn’t get enough of her. But because I knew she would run at the littlest provocation, I kept the kiss as short as I could. Just enough to give her an idea of what else could happen if she’d give us a chance.

  I let my tongue run over that plump bottom lip I’d been staring at all night. When she opened her mouth on a gasp, I deepened the kiss until she was breathless and pressed against me.

  She was so sweet. And it wasn’t just from the ice cream. It was Britte.

  It was her. Sugar and spice, side by side, one inside the other. A goddess wielding fire and vengeance. A warrior queen. She was this gorgeous woman with drive and passion, and she was completely brilliant. But there was this edge to her too. This lethal bite. She tempted me in every way all the while flashing sharp, deadly teeth.

  But it didn’t matter.

 
I was already in too deep.

  I just wanted more. And more. And more. Until I felt her bite. Until she sunk her teeth so deep into me she drew blood.

  Until I could feel her in my bones and veins, and everywhere I needed her to be.

  She was like a present wrapped inside a present. Every time I unwrapped another layer of her, she grew more compelling, more bewitching. I wanted nothing else than to just keep unwrapping her until she was bare and open in front of me. I wanted to know all of her secrets. I wanted to know all the hidden, protected places she kept locked up. I wanted to explore this kiss until I knew every road it led to…until I knew what happened next in every possible scenario.

  Her lips moved against mine with that building passion I remembered from our one other time together. She lit up so fast. She pretended to be cold and withdrawn…hard to get. But this girl was an inferno that would consume both of us whole if we ever let it blaze unchecked.

  She made a sound in the back of her throat, and I had to pull away. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to, and things would get really crazy. In public.

  I pulled back, ending with a soft kiss to the corner of her lips. I took my time leaning back, though. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to lose this moment. I didn’t want to lose her.

  I knew, in my gut, that she would pull back again. I had been through this enough with her that I just had to wait for it. And that was what I hated. It was one step forward, two steps back.

  Licking my lips, to savor that last taste of her, I grabbed her ice cream and handed it to her. “It’s melting,” I explained.

  She blinked at the ice cream. Her hands were jerky as she took it from me. I loved that I’d flustered her. My confidence swelled, and I probably would have commented on it had she been any other girl.

  “I should probably get back,” she said. I watched her shut down again. The shutters closed. The door locked tight. The walls rose.

  I had been prepared this time, but it still didn’t sting less. My ego? Yeah, not quite so big anymore.

  “Sure,” I told her, trying to play it cool. “But you should probably finish your ice cream first.”

  Her gaze lifted to mine. “I’m so full.”

  Picking mine up, I took a big bite. “Think about all the kids without ice cream right now. What would they think?”

  “The kids without ice cream?”

  I smiled, hoping to coax one out of her. “I don’t know. That’s just what my mom used to say to us about our vegetables. All those starving kids wishing they could eat creamed peas. I guarantee those kids would much rather have these bomb brownies than my mom’s mushy peas.”

  Her mouth lifted at the corners. “You’re probably right about that.” She took a small bite. Victory! “But also aren’t most kids in bed right now? I mean, there are like a ton of kids without ice cream at this moment.”

  “Then we could make the argument that there has never been a more crucial time in history to eat ice cream.” I tapped the bottom of her cup. “For the children, Britte. For the children.”

  She finally smiled. It was small and subdued, but it was better than nothing. “You’re out of control, Beckett Harris.” She met my gaze, holding up her ice cream. “And you’re a bad influence.”

  I erased some of the distance between us. “You’ll thank me for that later.”

  Her lips pursed. “Pretty sure my ass is going to blame you for this later.”

  I leaned to the side, giving it a healthy glance. “Pretty sure your ass has absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  When I looked back at Britte, her cheeks had a pretty blush spreading across them, and her eyes were narrowed dangerously. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment,” she told me.

  Genuinely confused, I countered with, “What else would it be?”

  I spooned out the last bite of ice cream and jumped to my feet, holding my hand out for Britte to take. She reluctantly did, but for all her resistance, she left it in mine all the way to the trash can where we threw away our cups and then to the car where I pulled the door open for her and helped her inside.

  Once in the driver’s seat again, we fell back into that easy banter that had been with us most of the night. Conversation was natural and fluid. I made her laugh. She made me laugh. By the time I pulled up in front of her apartment, I couldn’t think of another date where I’d laughed so much.

  I put the Charger in park and looked at her. Her eyes stayed intently on the windshield while she played with her hair, tying it in knots and wrapping it around her fist.

  “Should I walk you to the door?”

  Her eyes darted to mine. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “Sure?”

  Her face flashed with that all that skittish emotion she kept so close to the surface. “Positive.”

  “I had a fun night, Britte.”

  Her smile was shaky, but she admitted, “Me too, Beckett.”

  She apparently didn’t plan on giving me any encouragement. Luckily for her, I didn’t need much. “We should do it again sometime. Like sometime soon.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe.”

  I wanted to growl. This girl. “Well…I’ll text you.”

  Her expression gentled, and she leaned into me. For a second, I thought she might kiss me. Which would have stunned the crap out of me. Her gaze dropped to my lips, and I held perfectly still, afraid to frighten her away. In the end, she didn’t do anything I wanted her to. She pulled back and murmured, “Goodnight, Beckett,” before jumping out of my car and racing inside.

  If she had been any other girl, I would have assumed she wasn’t interested in me and that this was an epically failed attempt on my part.

  But this was Britte, so I knew it was more complicated than that. There was something else going on. She had kissed me tonight. I hadn’t imagined that. That had really happened. I had witnesses.

  And I knew she thought about kissing me again just now before her constantly overthinking brain talked her out of it.

  I was just going to have to get more creative with this thing. There had to be a way to convince her to give us a shot.

  To give me a shot.

  I would bet anything that we would be good together.

  If she would just give us a chance.

  Chapter Eight

  Britte

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of an incoming text.

  Beckett hadn’t kept me out especially late, but I had tossed and turned for most of the night. I just couldn’t sleep. Which was nothing new for me. My mind constantly spun. It was hard for me to shut it down, especially at night. Sleep always felt so useless to me. I had so much to do; so much to learn and study for and work on. I had hours of homework and a job, and my dad to take care of. And as I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep, my mind would conjure up the thousands of things I had on my To Do List and parade them in front of me, calling me a failure every single night.

  Luckily, I usually had enough homework that the few hours of sleep I did get a night usually came when I could no longer keep my eyes open. Last night, I’d been too wired from my date with Beckett to even consider homework. And for the most part, thanks to my study session with Jameson the night before, I was caught up.

  That meant I flopped around for hours as all the pressures I put on myself compounded in a frustrating, never-ending loop inside my head.

  Needless to say, when Beckett’s text came at nine this morning, it was too early. I was too tired. And I definitely wasn’t expecting to hear from him before tomorrow.

  Or next week.

  Wasn’t there a social rule about that?

  I swiped my finger across my screen and pulled up the text. I had prepared myself to be irritated and cranky. I hadn’t even had coffee yet for God’s sake. So the smile spreading across my face surprised me.

  Survived the night. The snake didn’t make an appearance. I’ve decided you are not totally bad at ordering Thai food.

  My fi
ngers clumsily moved over the keyboard. Did you doubt me?

  His response was instant. Absolutely. You’re a dangerous woman, Nichols.

  A huge smile stretched across my still sleepy face, pulling at tired muscles and making it impossible to ignore. Beckett was nothing like I expected.

  And that was saying something since we weren’t exactly strangers.

  But, for the entire time I had known him, he had been this serious athletic superstar, worshiped on campus and adored by his family. I had seen him be silly with Ellie before, and joke around with his brothers, but last night he was like an entirely different person.

  He hadn’t even looked at another girl the entire night. And trust me, I had been cataloging every glance and gaze, waiting to catch him in the act.

  We’d also miraculously avoided any more fan club invasions.

  Last night, as far as first dates went, it was kind of perfect.

  Beckett Harris was kind of perfect.

  Only I knew better than that. Nobody was perfect. Nobody was really who they seemed to be. With the exception of maybe Ellie.

  But that was only because I loved her so much. She could have had faults for days, but I would have remained willfully blind to them.

  Hashtag squad goals.

  I scooted into a sitting position, hovering over my phone as early morning light streamed through the window. My brain wasn’t fully awake yet, so when my dad’s name and number flashed over Beckett’s text, it took me a second to figure out what had happened.

  I’m not really a smart person until I’ve had coffee.

  My dad didn’t usually call this early or ever. We texted updates to each other in a clinical, loving sort of way.

  I would text him, I passed my final! He would text back, Proud of you, girl.

  He would text, Stained the deck this weekend. I would text back, Proud of you, old man.

  Just kidding.

  I could usually think of something deck related to say in less than three sentences.

  Worried that something terrible had happened to prompt this unprecedented morning phone call, I tapped the right buttons and moved the phone to my ear. “Hello?”