Betting on You

I can’t believe I’m doing this, was all I could think—on repeat—the day Bailey and I were leaving for Breck.

The morning shift flew by with its usual boredom, but I couldn’t ignore the fucking annoying twirl of nerves rippling through me as I waited for her to change. Why had I agreed to this ridiculous plan?

Did it sound fun? Yes.

Did it sound like the kind of scenario that could go wrong in a thousand different ways?

Hell fucking yes.

And so the last thing I needed before jumping into a car with Bay for hours on end was Theo and his bullshit smile swaggering toward me.

“Holy shit, bro,” Theo said, grinning and shaking his head as I leaned against my car, which was parked under the canopy in front of the hotel. “This should be a slam dunk.”

“Huh?” I liked Theo, liked him as in I didn’t want a meteor to fall from the sky and crush him, but I didn’t particularly enjoy talking to the weasel. He was the stereotypical prep school kid who enjoyed stirring up trouble because he’d never had to face any consequences in his entire life.

He was wearing the required uniform that we all wore, but the dude accessorized with a pinkie ring, a huge watch, and shoes that had Saint Laurent scrawled across the side. If this were a movie, I’d say they’d been a little heavy-handed in costuming the prep school kid—no subtlety whatsoever.

Especially when he spoke like he’d never been unsure of himself a day in his life.

Wouldn’t that be fucking nice.

He came a little closer and lowered his voice. “The bet…?”

I was confused for a second and thought he knew about the bet Bailey and I had. But then…

SHIIIT.

“That was a joke,” I quickly snapped at him and his perfectly pomaded hair, as I suddenly remembered lunch on our first day at work, when Theo said something to me about Bailey being wound too tight for any guy to stand a chance with her. And then before I’d known what an actual sleaze he kind of was, I joked that I could do it.

“I bet you a hundred bucks that you can’t get her,” he’d said, and because I didn’t like his cocky smile, I’d replied with, “You’re on.”

But the last thing I had any interest in doing was pursuing Bailey.

For money, for fuck’s sake.

I said it just to shut him up.

But I knew Bailey would never understand that. Why would she?

So finding out I’d bet that I could “get” her—yeah, she’d lose her shit if she ever found out.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Theo said, his face twisted in amused disbelief. “You’re going away with her for the weekend. Now’s your shot.”

“I’m not looking for a shot.” I glanced over his shoulder, wishing he’d shut his fucking mouth. Not only did I not want Bay to hear him, but I didn’t want someone else to overhear and think I was a prick like him. “Like I said, it was a joke.”

“Getting nervous that you can’t make it happen?” he asked, smirking like a creep.

I had a million smart-ass comments I wanted say at that moment, but guys like Theo were unpredictable. If you said the wrong thing and managed to wound their fragile ego, there could be hell to pay.

“No,” I said, lowering my voice so he’d take a hint. “But I know it won’t happen if she overhears you.”

And boom—it worked. Theo’s face slid into a sleazy grin and he nodded. The dude lowered his voice and said, “Slam dunk.”

I was relieved when he walked away (after a fucking absurd bro-handshake that included a shoulder bump), but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still stress pinging around inside me.

Something about the road trip had me on edge. I couldn’t put my finger on whether it was the blowup that was sure to happen with the adults when we arrived in Breckenridge, or some… something that had everything to do with spending an entire weekend alone with Bailey.

I was… unsettled as I got into the car and started it up.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

And that feeling didn’t go away when Bailey came out in a hooded sweatshirt that looked like it was going to swallow her whole, her hair in a slick ponytail, and a huge pair of sunglasses on and ready.

Damn. The on-edge feeling ratcheted up to an inching-toward-the-end-of-the-cliff level of on-edge as I watched her approach the car. Swear to God I heard Taylor Swift’s voice say, “Are you ready for it?”

Let the games begin.

I reached into my pocket for the TUMS and popped a few into my mouth. I saw Bailey’s eyebrow lift, which made my mother’s anxious voice—Find your calm, Charlie—swim in my head.

“You do realize that if Mr. Cleveland sees you parked here, he’ll lose his shit,” she said, opening up the passenger-side door and climbing into my car.

“I’m not worried about Cleveland. I dare him to censure us.”

“Wow.” She reached for the seat belt, her ponytail brushing her shoulders. “Are you a badass?”

“Obviously. You haven’t realized that by now?”

“Somehow I missed it,” she mused. And I relaxed a little.

“I don’t see how.” Good. This felt very normal for us.

“Are we getting snacks before we get on the interstate?”

“Duh.” I put the car in drive and floored it out of the parking lot. “Are we getting snacks—as if that’s even a question. What kind of a moron do you think I am?”