The Wager

Chapter Nineteen

He was fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

Way too many fines in that sentence. Sure, Jake was doing a stellar job of convincing himself that being in the same room with Char wasn’t going to kill him. It was like junior high camp all over again. Except this time, he knew exactly what he was missing out on while the girl slept far, far, away from him.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Char some clothes. Then again, no clothes were always an option. He smirked, then remembered her threat and continued his search.

Opening up the top dresser door, he found some boxers and a t-shirt he used to wear in high school. Those would work.

By the time he had climbed the stairs to the loft he had almost convinced himself that it wasn’t a big deal. “Almost” being the key word.

Char was already lying on the bed, her legs crossed and her arms behind her head, causing her breasts to push against her dress in such a dizzying way that Jake had to close his eyes for a brief second. Take that back—not like junior high camp, not at all.

“I found you clothes.” He threw them toward her face. Okay, so maybe kind of like junior high camp after all, since he was still bullying the girls he liked. Where had his game gone? Out the window, that’s where.

“Thanks,” Char muttered, pulling the clothes off her face. “Hey, I remember this shirt.” She laughed and held it up to her chest. “Man of the Year, huh?”

Jake scratched his head and looked away. “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.” He had been voted Man of the Year in high school, which basically to a hormonal teenage guy meant he was some sort of sexual god sent down to give attention to all girls within his vicinity. They’d loved that shirt. Every time he wore it—well, let’s just say every time he wore it, he was tardy to class.

“I hated this shirt.” Char put it on the bed and sighed.

“You hated it?” Jake took a seat next to her and grabbed the shirt. Had he really been that small? Hell, back in the day he’d thought he was a cut, muscled god. Pathetic, really. The shirt wouldn’t even fit him now.

“Hated it.” Char leaned back on her arms. “I thought it was stupid that people voted on something so silly and that girls took it so seriously. Like, oh my gosh! Did you see Jake Titus today? He’s so hot and he’s wearing the shirt. You know what that means!”

“Shit, how’d you know?”

“Everyone knew.” Char laughed. “If you wore the shirt, it meant you were ready for a little… extracurricular make out session behind the gym. Girls would go to their lockers, add lipstick, hike up their skirts, and just wait for you to pick them. So yeah, I hated that shirt.” She sighed. “Not that much has changed, though. At least now you get your pick without the shirt, right?”

He didn’t really know what to say to that. Was he supposed to agree? Or just lie his ass off? Because technically and sadly, she was right.

“Anyway, I need to change.” She looked at him pointedly.

He didn’t move.

“So…” She nodded toward the door.

Jake shrugged. “I can close my eyes if you’re being that much of a prude, but let me just justify my actions for a brief moment here…”

“Oh please do.” Char turned to him and crossed her arms, again causing her breasts to spill over her dress. Good Lord, she had a nice body. He licked his lips and looked away so he could concentrate.

“One.” He held up a finger. “I’ve seen you naked like four times in my life.”

“Four?”

“Four.” He confirmed. “Once when we were in sixth grade. I was supposed to be in my room when you and Kace changed for the pool. Instead, I snuck over to the guest room and peaked through the door.”

“Pervert.”

“Hey, I’d just discovered I liked girls.”

“Versus what? Mice?”

“Cute.” Jake scowled. “The second time.” He waved two fingers in front of her face, and she pushed his arm away but he kept talking. “Junior high camp. You and Kacey thought I was asleep and you changed into pj’s. I swear ever since then I can’t even look at blue and white stripped underwear without getting a—”

“Stop.” Char moved to stand. “I think it’s safe to say I know where that was going.”

“A huge smile”—Jake winked—“on my face. Gotta love stripes. Anyway, the third time was in high school when you tried out for the basketball team and hit the showers early because you had to go home sick.”

“You do realize that you sound like a Peeping Tom, right?”

Jake shrugged. “And you realize that guys are desperate enough to not give a shit how creepy we sound. We hear ‘naked’ and all bets are off.”

“Which brings us full circle. You want me to trust that you won’t watch when really we both know you will, so let’s get it over with.”

“P-pardon?”

“Stand up.”

He wasn’t really sure he could, or should, for that matter.

“Or sit.” Char moved to straddle his legs. Holy shit, was this really happening? Was she going to—?

“I think you’re under the false impression that I don’t know how guys think.”

“Well I—”

“And because of that little mishap, and you know, for all those times you watched me like the creepy, horny little high schooler you were…”

She grabbed his hands and placed them on either side of her thighs.

“… you don’t get to watch.”

Did that mean he could touch?

She ran his hands from her thighs all the way up her sides, stopping right below her breasts, and then she lifted his hands to her chest and up to her face. “Feel that, Jake Titus?”

Hell yeah, he felt that.

He felt his eyes flare with desire as his body hummed with need to have her.

“Now you don’t have to watch.” Char stepped away. “You and your perverted little mind can imagine. Now, out.” She pointed to the door and crossed her arms.

Was she serious?

She wanted him to stand? Right now? And actually walk to the door? And close it behind him? Without…

“I’m waiting.” She winked.

Well played, damn it.

With difficulty he rose to his feet and slowly shuffled out of the room. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind him that he managed to exhale, and even then he had to lean against the wall so he didn’t collapse in a pool of his own unsatiated lust.

“Things go well?” a voice called from down the hall.

Travis walked slowly toward him and smirked. “Ah, so you’ve finally lost it.”

“Huh?” Was he sweating? What the hell! When had a woman ever affected him like this!

“Your game, skills, wooing magic, ability to charm a nun out of her skirts—”

“Point made,” Jake interrupted.

“So…” Travis crossed his arms. “You and Char, huh?”

Jake was silent.

“Don’t do it.”

“Clearly, I’m not doing anything. That’s the damn problem,” Jake muttered.

Travis swore. “Just… don’t do anything rash before the wedding, okay? I can’t even imagine how pissed Kacey would be if she found out you were trying to dally with her best friend and maid of honor.”

“There was no dallying, believe me.” Was that bitterness seeping out of his every word?

“Good.” Travis slapped him on the back. “Because I’ve already got someone lined up for her. Someone stable who doesn’t date chicks with names like Jak-Jak or Honey.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Jake pushed away from the wall.

“It means,” Travis stepped closer to him, “stay the hell away from her. You just want her because she’s playing hard to get. The minute she makes it easy, you’ll be gone, and I’m going to have to deal with two hysterical women, not to mention Grandma, on the happiest day of my life. Just… Jake, for once in your life, leave it alone, okay?”

What the hell? A pain hit him sharp in the gut. Was it disappointment? Guilt? Shame? He wasn’t really sure, but the last thing he wanted was to continue to let everyone down in his life. He backed away and sighed.

“She’s not my type anyway.”

Travis rolled his eyes. Yeah, he wouldn’t believe himself either, mainly because he was lying his ass off.

“And,” he shrugged. “We’re too good as friends. I wouldn’t want to ruin that. Never actually had a friend that was a girl; I mean we can only count Kacey for so long. I just wanted to do something nice for her birthday. That’s all, I swear.”

“Really?” Travis’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course.” Jake forced a smile. “Besides, you know I love blondes.”

“Travis!” Grandma yelled from the other room. “Couch! Now!”

“No sleeping anywhere near Kacey until after the wedding. Grandma’s orders,” Travis mumbled. “If you hear a man weeping in the middle of the night, ignore it.”

Jake winced. “At least you only have less than two weeks left of torture.”

“Right. Tell that to my—”

“Travis!” Grandma yelled again.

Mumbling an oath, Travis made his way down the stairs and toward the couch. Jake turned back toward the door and knocked.

Char was already in the bed with the lights off. Disappointed, Jake took off his shirt and pants. Clad only in his boxers, he lay down on the bed and pulled the throw blanket over his body.

She had fallen asleep. How could she sleep at a time like this? Wasn’t her body still humming with desire? Did she have no feelings for him whatsoever? And why the hell did he care? With a yawn he attempted to close his eyes and sleep.