COLTON
I sip my beer, pretending to be listening. Clay is talking with Benson about the game, discussing the crucial moments and goals. I lost interest in their conversation the second I saw her with Layla, Grace, and Grace’s boyfriend. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her tonight, but it is the first time she’s been so close. And I can’t look away.
I’ve been trying to convince myself to ignore her, to not notice her. It took all my willpower not to read the text message she sent on Friday before the game. Seeing her on the stairs after I scored sent all my emotions into turmoil. Thank God the game was almost over, because I had an incredibly hard time concentrating after that. She’s all I want, and it gnaws at me that I’m pushing her away. Ava is the first girl I’ve ever really liked, and I’m letting her go without putting up even the tiniest fight. Without trying to make her understand I want more than just one hookup. I’m sure I’m making a mistake.
I frown, leaning forward, hoping to hear what she’s saying, but it’s useless. The music is blaring all around me. Ava says something to Layla, wheels around, and goes over to the drinks. I keep my eyes trained on her and see Moore sneaking up behind her. When he puts his hands on her, I ball my fists. What the hell is wrong with him? Why can’t he leave her alone? I’m ready to jump out of my chair when I hear Clay’s laughter. He still hasn’t told her about the bet, and she has no idea what Moore is capable of when he wants something.
“Clay?” I meet his gaze and nod in Ava’s direction. “Don’t you want to step in?”
My best friend looks uncertain, his eyebrow arched in question. As soon as he realizes what I’m hinting at, he curses under his breath and stands up from his seat. “See you later, Drake. I need to fix something.”
“Sure.” Benson shrugs and wraps an arm around some girl’s waist.
I follow Clay, keeping my distance. But as soon as I see her step closer to them, I speed up. Just in time to hear her question.
“What is he talking about? What bet?” Her voice is trembling with barely hidden fury.
“Ava, I’m so sorry,” my best friend says quietly, becoming smaller. “I tried to tell you earlier, but something was always in the way. And I kept telling myself that I had time but—”
“The bet was about me? With him?” she shrieks.
“Yes, but it was before—when I didn’t know you.” Clay digs himself deeper with each word. He’s going to make her think the only reason he feels bad about the bet is because they are friends now. “He said he would fuck you, and I told him it was never going to happen—”
“What does the loser have to do?” Ava demands, and I step closer. She’s losing it, and it makes my heart swell with ache. Clay should have told her earlier. He should have found the time and told her everything. She shouldn’t have found out like this.
“Wear a dress and makeup the last day before winter break.” Moore grins, noticing me.
“And the winner?”
“Dunno…” He taps his finger on his lips, staring at me with a strange glint in his eyes. What is he planning? “I kinda forgot. Let’s ask Thompson. He was the one who broke our hands.” Fucking asshole. “Colton, tell the lady what the winner gets.”
She wheels around, her gaze boring into me at once. As if she felt me behind her. I try to keep my cool, but it’s hard, and my nervousness starts showing.
“A bottle of their choice,” I mutter, and she shuts her eyes. I step closer to her, wanting nothing more than to hold her in my arms.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes, whirls around, and extends her palm to Moore. What is going on? “Where is your room?”
“Upstairs,” he murmurs, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. My gaze locks on their hands, and it becomes hard to breathe. What the fuck? She’s not going to sleep with him, is she? “Let’s go.”
“Ava.” Clay raises his voice, grabbing her wrist and holding her back. “Don’t do this.”
“What? Are you worried about the dress thing?”
“I don’t give a shit about that. I don’t want him near you.” my best friend begs.
“Should have thought about that before. Now? I expect to see you in a dress and full makeup on Monday.” She spits it out, letting Moore walk her further from us.
Neither of us looks away, watching as they climb the stairs. She glances over her shoulder, and our eyes meet. She’s perfectly aware of how pissed I am. She just doesn’t care.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Clay bellows, fingers flying to his hair. “What the fuck is she thinking? Sleeping with that dimwit? Just because she wants me to feel miserable?”
“You should have told her—”
“Go fuck yourself, Thompson.” He turns around and stomps to the front door. When it closes with a bang, I know he’s left. Typical Clay. I heave a sigh and hide my hands in my pockets. Waiting for her will be pure torture.
Thirty minutes forty-five seconds later, I see her walk down the stairs. She looks serene and incredibly calm. There is no sign of the disturbed state she was in when she found out about the bet. I drag my eyes down her body, taking in every detail, as if I haven’t done it a thousand times tonight already. She is wearing a white skirt, which ends way above her knees, a black pullover that hugs her chest like a second skin, and a leather jacket. No matter how much I try not to look, it’s useless. She’s the only girl I see in this fucking place. The only one.
So many feelings rise as I watch Ava free her hair, letting it spill down over her shoulders. She tosses it a little, her fingers threading through her locks. She seems lost in her thoughts. There’s not even the hint of a smile on her face. Her anger is gone, just like mine. Now I feel only two emotions: relief because I know she’s safe, and jealousy. The latter continues to grow as I keep my eyes on her. Of all people, why did she have to sleep with Moore? Why did she even decide to go upstairs with him? I don’t get it.
Layla rushes over to her, throwing her arms around her shoulders and whispering in her ear. They stay in each other’s embrace, and suddenly Benson’s sister starts laughing. Ava takes a step back and presses a finger to her lips, urging her best friend to keep quiet. I frown, my eyes glued to her face. This is not the reaction I expected. They chat some more, and then she points to the front door. Her best friend nods, whirls around, and hurriedly walks further into the house.
Ava heads to the front door, and I go after her. I don’t care if she slept with Moore; that won’t change how I feel about her. I just try to understand why…unsuccessfully. I feel like I need an instruction manual, a how-to guide. How to win over a girl without pissing her off every damn minute? I need a book for dummies, because I feel hopeless when it comes to her.
“Where are you going?” Someone puts their hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I furrow my brow, turn my head to the left, and meet Benson’s gaze.
“Out,” I grit through my teeth, brushing his hand off my shoulder.
“Just like Ava,” he counters. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m not your pet, Benson. You have no right to tell me what to do.”
“Haven’t you done enough damage? Making a bet—”
“Clay made the bet, not me.” I’m losing my patience. My temples start pulsing, and my vision blurs.
“Does it matter? You knew about it and did nothing to stop them. Moore was groping her, forcing himself on her, all because of the damn bet. Was it worth it to watch him try to get into her panties?”
“Is it really that hard? To get into her panties? I mean, you did it pretty easily.”
The second the last word leaves my mouth, Benson punches me in the face. I stumble back slightly and bump into someone. Some people gasp, some hoot, and some clap. What’s a great party without a fight, right? I quickly wipe the blood from my bottom lip and stare at him icily.
“What’s your problem?”
“My problem is assholes like you, who think they are all-powerful and can do anything they want,” Benson hisses, balling his fists. “Don’t you dare follow her. She’s not your toy to play with.”
“Because she’s yours?” Mental note to self: Colton Thompson, you’re a fucking idiot. “I saw her getting into your car the other day.”
“She’s my fucking friend.” he shouts. He’s ready to charge at me again, but someone steps in front of me and stops him. I lower my gaze and recognize his sister. “Layla, move.”
“Why was Ava in your car? Are you still screwing her behind my back?”
“She wanted to talk. We’re just friends.”
I use this moment to twirl around and dash out of the house, coming to a stop instantly.
Ava is standing on the porch with her phone in her hands. Once she looks up and our eyes meet, she pouts. Then she shoves her phone into her purse and pivots to the stairs, striding down without even a glance in my direction. I heave a sigh and go after her, matching her steps.
She keeps silent for a few minutes, then stops and turns to face me. “What do you want?”
“To make sure you’re safe.”
“You’re like a week late, Thompson.” She narrows her eyes. “I don’t remember you giving a shit about my safety when you let me walk back to my dorm alone after the movies.”
“I’m sorry about that.” I take a step closer, hovering over her and looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry about the bet—”
“I don’t care.” Ava averts her gaze from me and resumes her walk. I do the same, strolling down the street with her.
“Clay wanted to talk to you about it—”
“I don’t care,” she repeats, louder this time. “Anything you want to tell me, I’m not interested.”
I sigh in exasperation, trying to calm down my fired-up nerves. “He felt bad about the bet, and he knew it was wrong.”
She doesn’t try to stop me this time, and I feel hopeful. But it doesn’t last long. She covers her ears with her hands, shutting out any sounds.
I reach up and tear them away from her ears. Her eyes widen at once, and her mouth gapes open. “Stop acting like a child.” I say.
“Me?” Ava pinches her eyebrows together. “When was the last time you looked in the mirror? You’re the biggest kid I’ve ever met.”
And the award for the most awkward apology goes to me. “Ava, I didn’t mean…” I lean forward, trying to grab her arm, but she slaps my hand away.
“Fuck you,” she scoffs furiously.
“I’m just trying to say I’m sorry.” I manage to grab her hand and hold her wrist in a steady grip. “I should have told you about the bet myself. Moore didn’t deserve you—”
“That’s what you think of me?” Ava gasps, wriggling and trying to free her hand. “That I’m so easy? That I’ll fuck anyone?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not judging you—”
“I fucking hate you, Thompson.” I let her pull her hand free. Breathing heavily, she opens her purse and takes out her phone. A moment later, she shoves it into my hand. I bend down to look at the screen, and suddenly my insides are frozen.
The photo is colorful and clear. A blindfolded Hudson Moore is lying on his bed with his hands tied to the headboard. He’s naked, with only his hockey glove covering his dick. She never planned to sleep with him. She just wanted him to pay for making a bet about her.
“I don’t fuck just anyone, Thompson. And I definitely don’t fuck someone who has zero respect for me.” Ava snatches her phone out of my palm, hiding it back in her purse.
“You were upstairs for more than thirty minutes, and I—”
“I needed him to let his guard down. I needed him to think I wanted him. That’s the only reason it took so long.” My palms are sweaty as I wait for her to say something else. She takes a deep breath and tilts her head to the side. “I can’t believe I thought I liked you.”
My heart stops for just a moment, and then it speeds up and thunders in my ears. She thought she liked me? Liked? As in past tense? No. That’s bullshit. I refuse to accept it.
I invade her personal space, wrap my arms around her waist, and haul her to my chest. She puts her hands up, creating distance between us. “You’re lying,” I tell her, holding her gaze.
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Physically? You’re my type. But your personality? A hundred percent no.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I’m a very attentive person, Thompson. I notice everything.” My skin is already on fire. Her closeness is making me go crazy.
I lift her, making her lock her legs behind my back. She licks her lips, her breath hitching.
“What are you doing?” Ava whispers, all her bravado gone.
“Kidnapping you.” I head in the direction of my apartment building. It’s about twenty minutes away from here, but I’ll carry her the whole way without any problem. “Looks like that’s the only way to make you listen to me.”
