Betting On Love

by Danielle Dickson

  “Definitely not!”

  “Are you having sex with him?” she deadpans, so seriously that I snort.

  “I am not talking with you about this,” I laugh out.

  “Give me details, who is he to you?”

  “He isn’t anything to me.” Apart from a giant pain in my arse. “He lives in my building and has appointed himself chief of annoying me for some reason. There’s no details to give.”

  “Is he single?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I presume so, he doesn’t seem like the monogamous type.”

  “So what are you waiting for? You’ve had two long-term boyfriends, go have some fun with him!”

  “Mother! You’re not supposed to be encouraging me, you’re supposed to tell me to stay away from him because he reeks of bad motives, or some other motherly advice. Not pushing me into his bed and handing me the condom.”

  She laughs, the sound making my heart happy. “All I’m saying is that you’re twenty-six years old and you deserve to have a little fun after all you went through.” I shake my head at her view of things. “I have to say, I’m a little disappointed I’m not there to meet that towering Tarzan in person.”

  My parents are as smart and accomplished as they come in their respective fields, but neither one of them have got caught up in the stuffy, upper class mentality some seem to have once they see the zeroes of their bank account. They’re jokers and have never shied away about talking to me about the taboo subjects that most parents cringe over even just thinking about talking to their offspring about. So, I guess you can say we have a very open relationship, but it still doesn’t stop me from cringing.

  “Enough. I’m having a hard-enough time as it is staying away from Mr. Egotistical. I can’t go there again and get hurt.”

  She’s silent for a moment then sighs. “You need to let this go.” I know she isn’t talking about Mac and the atmosphere changes drastically. “Don’t hide away like a hermit, love. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to or rush into anything, if it’s friendship he’s offering you, then take it. I don’t like the thought of you being all the way over there without anyone to confide in.”

  My head automatically sweeps to the door he left through and I worry my lip. “I guess friendship is fine, I’m being overly dramatic again, aren’t I?”

  She chuckles. “Just a little. Oh, bloody hell, I’ve got to go, Bil, your dad has just walked in—”

  “Oh, Juliana… Come to bed,” I hear my dad cooing in the background and I refrain from gagging.

  “Yeah... err… bye, Mum, love you!” I say hurriedly and snap the iPad cover shut before I get scarred for life.

  My family is nuts, but we’re a good sort of nuts. The kind of people that you will always need in your life to brighten up your day. I already feel better—if not slightly weirded out—by talking briefly to my parents, even if it wasn’t about anything in particular. They were always there for me growing up no matter how busy they were with work, they always made time for me whenever they could.

  I’m an only child, not for their lack of trying, my mum just couldn’t conceive again after me and they decided they didn’t want to go down other routes, so it was always just us. I guess that’s why we’re so close. Still didn’t mean I wanted to talk about having a one-night stand or a friend with benefits situation with my mother of all people! I’m not a prude, far from it actually, but there’s just some lines I won’t cross with her. She has enough of that talk with her clients.

  I yawn and stretch my arms out as I walk over to the front door and lock it, deciding to get an early night and to keep out any unwanted visitors. I must get that key from him, or at least remember to lock my door from the inside when I come in. It freaks me out that he can just walk in here like that without me even hearing him, even if his intentions are anything but sinister, you shouldn’t just walk into someone’s apartment.

  I walk past the kitchen on the way to my bedroom and peek at what he left me on my bench: a plate of Oreos. Yum!

  I pick up the plate and carry it into my room, turning on the TV and snuggling under the duvet cover.

  My mind drifts unconsciously to Mac. He looked good enough to eat tonight in grey jogging bottoms, a tight white t-shirt, and his hair out of the man bun I’ve become accustomed to seeing him with. Godlike, it’s the only way to describe him. I need to get a grip of myself. If I’m going to be seeing him around a lot then I need to become immune to his looks and charm, there’s only so much torture a girl can take before she finally caves.

  I laugh at the main character on the screen on one of my romantic comedies and pop an Oreo into my mouth, chewing it and immediately spitting it out onto the plate. What the fucking fuck!

  I scrub my tongue on the corner of my hoodie and pick up another one, screwing the top off it and pulling it apart. My temper flares up as I look at the yellow, oily blob in the middle. Mayonnaise? That fuckwit!

  Throwing back the covers, I stomp out into the hallway and— Shit! I don’t even know which apartment he lives in.

  “Argh!” I huff out, storming back into my apartment ready to confront him at school tomorrow. He doesn’t know who he’s messed with.

  I stretch out my limbs and roll out of bed, padding to the bathroom to have a shower to wake me up. I stand under the running water and groan as the hot spray relaxes my tight muscles; it’s the first time in a long time I’ve gone this long without sex and I won’t lie, I’m tense as fuck. I had the option to last night, I have a whole list of contacts I could’ve called that would’ve been here with just a click of my fingers, but for some reason I just couldn’t get my mind off Billie. That woman has me wrapped around her little finger without her even knowing it, but I can see that she’s trying to keep her distance because of the person she thinks I am. Don’t get me wrong, she’s right, I am that guy. But I’m not just that guy, there’s more to me than she realizes.

  And I have the perfect plan to show her.

  I laugh thinking about the Oreo prank I played on her, hoping she didn’t just throw them in the trash. I can’t wait to see her reaction; she’s sexy when she’s riled up.

  I turn off the water and then get out of the shower, toweling myself dry as I pick out a pair of old, worn, ripped jeans and a navy t-shirt out of my dresser. I get changed and pull my hair back with a hair tie; the guys at work all mess with me and call me a girl because of how long my hair is, but I don’t give a shit, I like looking different and the girls go crazy over it.

  Walking into the kitchen I switch on the coffee pot and look in the cupboard for some coffee grounds, cursing as I remember I finished the last of them off yesterday. I slide my feet into my combat, work boots and grab my keys and wallet, locking up on my way out. There’s a coffee shop about a block away that I can stop off at on my way to work.

  Pulling up outside the shop, I jump out of my car and immediately spot Billie standing in line through the window. I thank the gods and waltz on in like I own the place, sneaking up behind her.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” I whisper in her ear.

  She jumps and nearly knocks the coffee out of some hipster’s hands. “Hey! Watch where you’re—”

  He soon shuts up when he sees me glaring at him and walks off with his head down. The smile snaps back on my face as she turns around with a sarcastic look on hers.

  “Well considering we live around the corner, it’s not that unusual, Mac. But thanks for scaring the living daylights out of me again, you creep. Oh, and you should wipe that smug smile off your face, don’t think I won’t get you back for last night.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

  She narrows her eyes at me and steps closer. “Of course you don’t, but just know that what happens next is on you.”

  My laugh booms out throughout the room and she rolls her eyes at my outburst before she turns back around, giving me a full view of her round ass in those tight, black yoga pants. God bless yoga pants
.

  She orders a Frappuccino when it’s her turn and I interrupt the barista, handing him a ten-dollar bill. “And a black coffee, please.”

  He looks at my outstretched hand then back at Billie seeking confirmation, she nods and he takes it from me and gives me an awkward smile, obviously feeling the tension she’s radiating toward me.

  My coffee comes first but I wait for her fancy macca-flappa-whatever to arrive and then follow her over to a table by the window. I watch her suck on her straw and just seeing her lips wrap around it like that has my dick twitching and me groaning internally. She’s that sexy without even trying to be.

  She looks up at me after taking another small sip and takes off her lightweight red scarf, placing it on the chair behind her. “Thanks for the drink, but it doesn’t make up for last night or mean you can come and sit with me.”

  “I wasn’t asking,” I retort, sitting down in the empty chair opposite her as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and glowers at me. I continue to stare at her and she blushes slightly, looking out of the window. She must feel the electricity between us too, it can’t be all one sided.

  She huffs out a long breath and takes another sip of her drink and I watch her intently, wondering what she’s thinking, but I don’t have to wait for long to find out. She clears her throat. “That busty blonde just slipped you her number and you didn’t even notice. What’s wrong with you?”

  I look down at the table and sure enough, there’s a small slip of paper with a number on it. I sweep the room and my eyes land on a tall blond with breasts the size of my head and a fish pout on her lips thinking that it looks sexy. No, thanks.

  I make sure both her and Billie see me screw up her number and flick it away, swinging my head back to Billie. “Just because she put her number in front of me doesn’t make me a player, but you seem to be really trying to convince yourself that I am. It’s okay, I get it.”

  “But do you? ’Cause from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you get the fact that I’m just not interested in being another one of your meaningless hookups.” She leans back in her chair, so I copy her.

  “And how do you know that’s all I want? You hardly know me,” I counter.

  She looks out of the window with a determined look on her face. “A player is someone who constantly fucks around without a care in the world who they hurt in the process. They have no respect for anyone involved, so as it stands... you, sir, are a grade-A player. I don’t need to know you in order to see that and I don’t need to know you in order to decipher that glint in your eye every time we’re around each other. I’ve seen you with women.” She finishes her sentence by looking me in the eyes. She’s ballsy, I’ll give her that.

  “So, I guess you have me all figured out, huh?” I ask her and she nods. “Well guess what I think you are?”

  “I honestly couldn’t give a toss what you think about me, Mac,” she snaps.

  “Competitive.” I leave that hanging in the air and she looks at me intensely, confusion marring her beautiful face, and I can tell she wants to say something.

  She worries her lip then sighs. “Fine, I’ll play along. I know I’m competitive, I didn’t become a PE teacher for nothing.”

  I nod, contemplating my next move in this game that I’m orchestrating. “Then are you willing to take a wager on something?”

  She leans forward, arms crossed over the table. “On what?”

  I smile, I knew I was right, her curious nature trumps her trepidation over her feelings for me. “You think I’m a player, so let’s play a game.” I have her attention, so I decide to just spill it. “Let’s go on dates. Let’s play-fight. Let’s talk twenty-four seven. Let’s cook together. Let’s kiss, sleep together, and everything in between.”

  Anything that’ll have her in my bed in the smallest amount of time, anything that will help her to trust me. She pushes back her chair and stands as she scoffs, wrapping her scarf around her neck.

  “And whoever falls in love first, loses,” I add, smirking at her but completely surprising myself in the process that that even came out of my mouth.

  She freezes at that comment and looks down at me through her long black lashes. “You’re insane.”

  I stare at him, trying to determine if he’s being serious or if this is just another one of his jokes he seems to think is funny, but apart from the smirk on his face, I can tell he’s being deadly serious. I don’t get what the endgame is, we don’t even know anything about each other for him to want to do this with me.

  “You’re insane,” I repeat again when he doesn’t say anything.

  He shrugs. “Maybe so, but you can’t deny the insane connection we seem to have.”

  Bollocks! So he feels it too?

  What am I supposed to do now? I can’t play it off like I don’t want anything, the smirk on his face tells me he knows it’s not one-sided. Plus, it’s a bet, and I’m feeling lucky.

  I unwrap my scarf again and sit back down in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “How do I know you’re not some psycho that wants to get close to me so he can murder me while I sleep?”

  He laughs deep and loud, the sound sending tingles through me. “If I wanted to murder you when you slept, I could’ve done it already. I have a key, remember?”

  I cough out a laugh. “Put it bluntly why don’t you.”

  “Well, why would I lie? You like bets and I’m willing to bet that you’re going to lose this one.”

  “So, you think that I’ll fall for you before you fall for me?”

  He links his fingers together on the table in front of us and my eyes flit to his muscular forearms causing my tongue to flick out, wetting my bottom lip.

  “I’m counting on it,” his deep voice rumbles out as I watch his eyes watching my mouth.

  “And why’s that? What does the so-called winner get?”

  “Satisfaction of winning and bragging rights. What more do you want?” he teases.

  My eyes flit between his, the colour matching my own golden tones. “Counter bet. I agree to everything but your last ‘let’s.’”

  He screws up his nose. “Err, let’s cook together?”

  I laugh sarcastically. “Nice try.”

  He shrugs and winks at me. “Fine, no sleeping together. I don’t like to stay over anyway.” I rise out of my chair again, ready to leave him sitting there on his own but I stop when he sighs. “Fine, fine. No sleeping together.”

  “Or…” I counter, sitting back down.

  “Or?” he asks, confused.

  “Yeah, or kiss or do everything in between,” I state.

  He pouts. “Well that sucks. How am I meant to make you fall in love with me when I can’t show you my moves?”

  I roll my eyes and stand up for real this time, wrapping my scarf around my neck again and picking my drink up. “I guess you’ll have to use your brain instead of your dick for once.”

  I blow him a sarcastic kiss and he shakes his head back at me while laughing.

  “Bet starts tomorrow,” he calls as I walk out of the coffee shop.

  I smile, already thinking how I’m going to get him back for the Oreo prank.

  Let the games begin.

  I pull the curtain back, looking down at the car park, waiting and watching for Mac to pull up.

  He thinks that he’s gotten away with that prank he pulled with the Oreos. He should be so lucky!

  There’s absolutely no way I’m letting him get away with it, just thinking about my plan and knowing what is in my car boot has me grinning like a fool. I’ve been giggling on and off for the last hour as I sit and wait for Mac to come home.

  Finally, he pulls up and slides out of his precious BMW, patting the roof like it’s his pet. Weirdo.

  He walks into the building and I jump away from the window, looking around my dark apartment.

  I can’t strike right now, I need to wait an hour or two, make sure he’s firmly in his apartment before I seek my revenge.
/>
  I sit and wait for another two hours before walking to my bedroom; dressing all in black and throwing my hair up into a cap before I make my way out of my apartment building.

  I head straight to my car, opening my boot as I look all around me, making sure no one can see me.

  Unloading the supplies out of the boot, I can’t help the giant grin that breaks out on my face or the feeling that somersaults in my stomach at getting my revenge.

  This is going to be good.

  I drink up my coffee, happy that I remembered to get some grounds after work last night. I had to stay later than usual to help add support to a wall that was crumbling away. As much as I wanted to go and annoy Billie, I was so tired that I had a shower, ate leftovers and went to bed; but the real fun starts today. I have a date planned that will knock her socks off.

  I drink the last drop in my cup and toss my car keys in the air, catching them as I walk out of my apartment and down the stairs ready for a hard day at work. I walk out of the building with a spring in my step that’s immediately halted at the sight of my car, or what was my car at least.

  Every inch is covered in pink, yellow, orange, and green Post-it notes. It’s a giant Post-it note-shaped car. My first reaction is to laugh until I realize that I have to at least take it all off the windows before I can to drive to work. I entwine my hands behind my head and look up at the sky as I rant to myself, starting to pull off the Post-it notes from the driver’s side window first and revealing a thick layer of saran wrap.

  “Are you shitting me?” I grunt out. I hear a titter of laughter and spin around in the direction of Billie leaning against her car about seven cars down crying with laughter.

  “Car trouble?” she manages to get out between her uncontrollable laughter.

  I narrow my eyes and start walking toward her. She startles and fumbles to get into her car and by the time I reach her, she’s safely inside and has the door locked.

  She grins at me and I pull on her door handle. “Let me in the car, Billie. I have work to get to.”