by Jamie Knight
But you know, he might have a point. Maybe this engagement thing is just a contest. I definitely don’t want to see Arron or Collin win it. They would both spend Grandpa’s money in a hurry and bankrupt the whole family. I need to win and to do that I am going to have to double my efforts.
I have might have a plan. Think I might have to be late to class and visit the freshmen dorms.
Chapter Six
Lindsay
Oh my God, I am covered in blue slushie! It’s cold and sticky and ruining my good seater. My favorite sweater!
I run across campus with my friends following behind me. They can’t stop talking about Brent. How lucky I am to have his attention. How can they say that? He’s such a jerk! I mean, seriously, what an absolute dick. This is all his fault.
As we get near the dormitories, the girls ask me if I am okay. I tell them I need to get changed and that I’ll see them later on. They wave, say goodbye, and head off to their next classes. I’m left on my own to take care of this mess. It is all so embarrassing! Next time I see Brent I am going to let him have it.
The girls don’t know him like I do. All they see is that he is hot, charming and muscular. They don’t know the extent of teasing he has done to me ever since he became friends with Robert. All the taunting and poking fun, it gets old really quick. My friends think just because he shows me attention, he must like me or something, and that I should fall all over him like some lovesick puppy-dog. No way! Brent makes me almost physically ill.
I pull the door to the dorms open as fast as I can, then I dash through the hall and unlock my door. I have to get this stain out right away or this top is totally ruined. I fling the door open and push it, hoping it will just close behind me. I reach for the hem of my sweater and pull it up, working my arm out of one of the sleeves.
There is a bit of giggling in the hallway and footsteps, but I ignore them. I work my arm out of the other sleeve and move to pull the wet, icy cold sweater over my head. It’s a bit of a delicate maneuver as I’m trying to not get any of the slushie on the carpet. As the footsteps draw closer, I realize my door didn’t shut all the way. I turn back to the doorway.
My eyes meet Brent’s. There he is, the boy who created all of this drama, standing in my doorway.
He doesn’t say anything and just stands there staring at me. It makes me a little uncomfortable, even more so when I realize my slushie-covered shirt is halfway off, leaving me practically topless in front of him.
I don’t want him to see me like this! “Ahhhhh!” I shriek, jumping back a few feet. “Go away or turn around!”
To my annoyance, he comes into my dorm and shuts the door behind him. “Okay. Okay,” he says in a calming manner and turns his head.
With his back to me, I hurriedly take off my top and then grab a towel from my chest of drawers. I cover my torso and turn to to face him. He still has his back to me. Which is sweet of him in a way, although it would be a stretch to call him a gentleman, because we are alone in my dorm room.
“Are you decent?” he asks. Before I can answer he turns around to face me.
I pull the towel up to my neck and glare at him. “Well you can plainly see now that I am,” I hiss. “But what if I wasn’t? What if I was just standing here naked? Would you just keep staring? You know, I don’t like this. I think I’d like for you to leave. Please get out.”
He moves into the room a few steps, glances around and then looks back to me. “Lindsay, please, I promise I am not here for any funny business. I’m here because I need a favor,” he says.
“You need a favor? No, you need to get out of here!” I snap and point towards the door.
But instead of exiting my room he sits down on my bed. The very place I sleep each night. He plops down like he owns the place and puts his ankle on his knee.
My hands grip the towel and I glare at him with all my might. My face is hot, and I know it’s red. I don’t like that he causes me to be this way. I am so furious with him! He needs to leave! Why is he being so obstinate?
He combs a hand through his sandy-blonde hair and looks over at me. “I need to ask you a favor, you see. It’s really important. My grandfather. He’s dying,” he explains.
I wave a hand to stop him. “I am sorry to hear that, but I really need to clean up. You caused me to make this mess,” I say, pointing at myself and my towel clad torso. “We can talk about this later. Can you please give me some privacy?”
“Okay, I can do that,” he says.
Brent moves to the opposite side of the bed and turns his back to me again. He folds his hands in his lap and leans forward a bit. That wasn’t quite what I meant but I sigh and decide that it will work.
I wave a little at him, making sure he can’t see me at all. When he doesn’t say anything, I pull the towel off and look down at my bare breasts. They are still covered with sticky blue. I rub the towel on them to get it off.
“Tell me about this favor, Brent,” I say to him. Hopefully he will say what ever it is that he needs to and then go.
“Well, it has to do with a contest,” he explains. “My family loves them. We play them all the time and most of the time it’s my grandfather who starts the contests. Anyway…”
I half to admit I’m only half-listening to him. I rub at the tops of my breasts, getting the slushie off and drying them. As I do, my eyes catch a spot of blue on my white lace bra. Fuck! I feel myself start to shake with anger. I pull the bra this way and that, finding more spots as I go. My bra is full of slushie too! It’s ruined and now, I need a new one.
Brent still has his back to me, so I take off the wet bra and let my breasts hang free. Topless, I go to my cabinet and look for a clean bra in the mess that is my top drawer. I drop the towel, sure that he can’t see me and rummage for a specific bra. It’s nowhere in sight.
“We’ve been doing contests ever since I can remember,” Brent continues to explain. “Some of them are simple, such as, who can beat the others in a chess tournament. But some of the other contests can be really complicated with clues and such. Over the years, it has gotten more and more competitive between my cousins and I when grandpa challenges us. Each one of us want to one-up the others and claim the prize, whatever it might be. It can actually get downright vicious, really.
“Now, despite the competition, or maybe because of it, I usually win these contests. But this time, my cousins are really stepping up their game. The stakes are much higher. Like, as high as it can get. We’re talking loads of cash. My grandfather’s whole fortune. So that’s why I’m here. I need you to do me a big favor because I really want to win. In fact, I have to win.”
I’m still only half listening. The bra I want is nowhere in sight. I pull my arms out of the drawer and put them on my hips. My fingers hit wet fabric. Oh no! I peer down in dread and see my skirt is covered in slushie too. It’s my favorite. A white pleated beauty that I spent almost fifty bucks on! Now, it’s stained blue.
I reach behind me and quickly unzip it so I can see how bad the damage is. I shimmy it off my hips, down my legs, and then hold it up for inspection. Three big blue stains. It’s ruined. I sigh and fight back tears of frustration.
It’s then that I realize Brent has gone silent. I turn. My eyes catch his—or rather, the reflection of his. He’s watching me undress in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. I had forgotten all about it! Oh no!
I’m standing, only in my panties, and he is staring at my body. My brother’s best friend is looking at me almost nude. He can’t see me exposed like this! I feel my face starting to blush again. I can never hide it when I’m embarrassed or upset.
“Get out!” I yell at him and point towards the door.
Brent jumps up. He walks towards me in a panic, but his eyes keep glancing to my bare breasts. I clutch at them, trying to cover my hardening nipples with one arm and put a hand over my panties with the other.
“Please, Lindsay, just hear me out,” he says in a pleading tone. His hands stretch before hi
m like he is going to take me in his arms. “Can you just listen to me?”
Suddenly Brent’s just inches away from my nude skin. I can still feel his green eyes on me. He starts to blush slightly himself and the edges of his lips inch up into a smile.
I grab a pillow off of the bed and start hitting him with it.
“Get! Out!” I emphasize each word with a hit of the pillow. “Get! Out!”
“Stop, Lindsay!” he exclaims while lifting his arms up to defend himself. “I really do need you to do me a favor. It’s important!”
I keep hitting him with the pillow. All of my anger about the teasing and the taunting and the general misery he has brought upon me comes out. I know the pillow isn’t hurting him really, but it feels good to let these feelings out and besides, he ruined my favorite outfit.
“Lindsay! Listen, please,” he begs, raising his voice till he’s almost screaming. “I need you to marry me!”
What?!
I drop the pillow in shock.
Marry him? What the hell is he talking about?
My legs go weak and I fall onto the bed. My whole body bounces a little with the impact.
“As I said before, I just want you to hear me out,” Brent says. He sits down on the bed next to me.
I give him a little nod to continue, because I’m at a loss for words.
“Thank you,” he says. “My grandfather is dying, and well, he means so much to me. He wants one last contest between my cousins and me. When he dies, he is going to leave his inheritance to the first person who gets engaged. There is no prize for second place. So, I need you to pretend to be engaged to me for a couple of months, so I can win the contest. Plus, I think if I’m engaged it will make Grandpa so happy. I want to make him happy, one last time before he goes.”
I sit down on the bed and process this information for a few moments. So, the whole engagement will be fake. I do have some problems with that, however, at the same time it would please my mother. She is always complaining about the fact that I haven’t found anyone yet. Being engaged will send her over the moon and most likely make me their favorite child at least for a few months. It would definitely give me an advantage over Robert.
Plus, my friends will go nuts over the news. My popularity will rise, and I might even fit in a little better at school.
And what will happen when we break it off? I’ll gain sympathy for being jilted. Left at the altar by the spoiled rich kid. Everyone will come to my side and comfort me.
Wow! This idea really has merit. And I’ll only have to pretend for a few months? I guess I could act like I like Brent for that long. All of my friends think I should anyways. Why not give people what they want for awhile, right?
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say.
“You will? That’s great!” he exclaims. Grabbing both of my hands, he takes them in his own and squeezes them.
“What are you doing?” I ask nervously. It feels strange to be touched by him. I start to feel my cheeks flush again.
He looks into my eyes. He’s so close and his green eyes are very bright. “I just want to make sure you really want to do this. So, are you absolutely sure?” he asks.
“I am,” I say and give him a quick nod.
I remember, as he looks at me, that I’m almost completely nude. I gasp and pull my hands out of his. Where is my towel? It must’ve dropped to the floor during the shock I felt. I quickly cover my breasts with my shaking hands and glance around.
Brent notices my discomfort. He smiles, picks up the towel off of the floor, and hands it to me. I pause and glare at him. He nods and laughs, turning around so I can wrap the towel around my breasts again.
After a few seconds, he turns back around and grins at me. He looks so pleased! Then he pulls me in close and hugs me, giving me a peck on the right cheek. His lips are soft and warm against my skin.
“Thank you so much, Lindsay,” he says. “I have to rush to class. I’m probably already late but I’m sure I can make up some excuse.” He shrugs. “I’ll be in touch soon with the game plan.”
I am left speechless by his touch and his kiss. I am blushing again. I can feel my cheeks burning. As Brent hurries out the door, I don’t have the power to say anything. I just raise my hand to my face and gently touch the spot where his lips touched my skin.
Chapter Seven
Brent
I don’t know how I got through class after my encounter with Lindsay. I fought hard to get the information I needed from the professor, but my brain was definitely distracted. I typed up notes and processed what I could, but my mind kept wandering and I kept grinning from ear to ear. I told myself that I was happy because of how wonderfully everything went and not because I saw Lindsay nearly nude. She’s Robert’s little sister and I’m not supposed to think of her that way.
Now as I walk back to my apartment after class is over, I try to concentrate on how Lindsay is helping me out and not how sexy her breasts are—so plump and perky—or how great her curves are. I never thought silly, clumsy little Lindsay would be so…so hot! But I can’t think of her that way, I keep reminding myself. She’s just helping me out with this contest and nothing more.
I am certain that Grandpa Morgan will surely approve of her and I think even really like her. I mean, this was kind of his idea, and really, what’s not to like? Lindsay’s full of fire but knows when to be supportive. I can see her standing beside me as I tell my beloved grandfather our intentions to tie the knot. She will be so convincing and real he’ll never see through the facade and realize it’s all make believe.
Grandpa grew up from nothing so I think there is a good chance he and Lindsay will find some common ground. He is a self-made man and in many ways she is a self-made woman. That bond will help solidify the ruse even more.
I smile to myself. Right now, I’m sure Arron and Collin are choosing the most vapid women they can find—easily swayed by shiny objects. They will be strictly in it for the money. They will be so easy to see through there is no way Grandpa will buy it. He’ll know it’s not love straight away.
As for Lindsay, she can be so sweet and charming. I can picture us holding hands and mingling with other family members. She will be a shining ray of light. They will feel the love radiating. I can’t imagine anyone will think anything otherwise. And with my skills of persuasion I will reinforce those thoughts and feelings.
Yes, Grandpa is going to be impressed.
With Lindsay’s help I think I can pull this off. But, I’m going to have to stop teasing her for the next few months. That will please Robert, too. I might have been pushing the limits of our friendship with the whole “Franny Flustered” nickname.
I stop dead in my tracks. I just realized something. I have to tell Robert about the contest. I don’t want him to think I’m playing a game with Lindsay. Our friendship is much too important to jeopardize over a potential misunderstanding. He has to know the truth and be on board with it.
I need to tell him now, though, before Lindsay gets the chance to talk with him first. But where is he? Hmmmmmm. I think he usually runs along the track in the early evening hours. I’ll go over there and get this over with. I don’t want any hard feelings whatsoever. I just hope Lindsay doesn’t join him for a run there sometimes.
I walk across campus towards the sports complex with a pep in my step. This is definitely an exciting time. I am totally going to win this contest. I can’t wait to see the look on Arron’s face when he knows he’s be completely bested and beaten.
As I approach the field I look around for any sign of Lindsay. All clear. As I suspected, Robert is running laps. I pick up the pace and catch up to him.
“Hey Robert!” I call out from a few yards behind.
“Brent!” he calls back while still running. “What the heck are you doing here, buddy?”
“I have to tell you something and it can’t wait!” I shout back, trying to speed up come alongside him. This would be so much easier if we were conversing normally.
Robert grins at me and runs a bit faster. “Sure, but since you’re here we’re going to have a race first!” he says.
Too funny. Here I am to tell him about a contest and now he wants to challenge me to one. How can I pass him up? I don’t think I’m going to win this one, however. Robert is a much more dedicated runner than I am.
We stop at the starting line and catch our breath for a moment.
“Let’s just do a 100-yard-dash,” he says. “Keep it nice and simple.”
I nod and stretch a bit. We get down in the starting position.
“You say when,” I tell him.
“On your mark, get set… go!” he shouts out.
And we’re off. It’s a mad dash at first. I’m able to get a quick boost, probably residual energy from my interaction with Lindsay, but it’s clear Robert is the better runner. Twenty yards in I feel my legs go a little rubbery while he kicks it into a higher gear. He beats me by five lengths.
We slow down to catch our breath again. Both of us can’t help but laugh.
“You’re such a slow poke,” Robert says with his hands behind the back of his head.
“Hey, I’m not the fanatic who is down here every evening reenacting Chariots of Fire,” I say bent over with my hands on my knees to prop me up. Man, that really took a lot of out me.
“Chariots of Fire? What the hell is that?” he asks.
“Some old movie Grandpa Morgan made me watch,” I say.
“How is your grandfather?” he inquires.
“Not so good,” I say.
We have both recovered from the run and stand up straight. We head back to the benches by the start of the track.
“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.
“Thank you. But the old guy isn’t quite done with life yet,” I say. “In fact, he’s the reason I’m here.”
He gives me a confused look.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Well, remember how I told you Grandpa Morgan likes to do contests? How wild he is about competition?” I say.
