The Wager

Chapter Six

“I need a drink,” Char announced once she and Beth were safely at their shared apartment on Queen Anne Hill. “Scratch that. I need ten drinks and a sedative.”

“So what?” Beth opened the wine bottle and pulled out two glasses. “You were arrested and zip-tied to some hot man candy. Really, there are worse things in the world.”

“You mean like going into anaphylactic shock and having your grandmother stab a needle next to your man parts?” Char chuckled and took a sip of merlot. “That part, I enjoyed.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully Grandma has good aim and Jake can still sire children after that little escapade. How the heck did I sleep through it?”

Char shrugged. “No idea. At any rate, I’m glad it’s over.”

“Right.” Beth snorted. “And I don’t stalk Damon Salvatore on Twitter.”

“Not his real name, Beth.”

“Don’t kill the dream, Char.”

Char sighed and leaned against the table. “I was totally fine; seeing him again, I mean. No flashbacks of that crazy night we shared, no lustful thoughts or feelings, or—”

Beth’s eyebrows arched. “Oh, do continue. It was just getting good.”

“It wasn’t good. It was awful.”

Smirking, Beth tipped back her glass and swallowed. “So you’ve said, over and over and over—”

“Can we just…” Char waved into the air. “Drop it? It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.” Then again he’d probably be in Kacey’s wedding, not that it mattered. He’d be lucky to see past the whiskey haze and the women hanging all over his arms. Right; like he’d pry himself away from skank long enough to make her life a living hell. It wouldn’t be a problem, because she wasn’t going to let it be a problem. So what? If they were both in the wedding, she’d just avoid him at all costs. Hell, she’d drug him if she had to. No way was she letting him near her.

“You’d better hope that’s the case, because next time it’s not gonna be Grandma I’m worried about, but you.”

“Please, he’s like the opposite of sexy.”

“Careful, Pinocchio; wouldn’t want your overly large nose getting in the way of your wine glass.” With that, Beth left the kitchen.

Please. Like Jake mattered at all. So what if he was attractive? He knew it, and that was the problem. He’d always known it. He was a selfish bastard and she wasn’t going to fall for him again. She wouldn’t let herself, because that tragic story always ended badly. With a pint of Rocky Road and a bottle of wine, watching Downton Abbey on Netflix.