He gives me a side glance. “You won’t lose. It’s not a problem.”
“Your faith in me is astounding. So how long?”
He’s not wrong though. I can’t bring myself to hold a guy’s hand, let alone kiss him. There’s not a chance in hell anyone is getting in my pants.
“How long what?”
“How long until this bet pays out.”
Colt signals again and turns the car around in the middle of the street, heading back in the direction we came from.
“Six months.”
“Where are we going?”
“I want to do something.” He says as he pulls the car over to the side and gets out. He leans down and peers through the open door. “You coming or what?”
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Colt narrows his eyes before shutting the car door and walking away, assuming I’ll follow. His assumptions are always correct. It’s infuriating sometimes.
I’m joking, and I don’t expect him to kiss me, as much as it would help me get over whatever is holding me back. But it’s sort of become a long-running joke now. I like to just throw it out there, hoping one day he’ll surprise me and shove his tongue down my throat, if for nothing else than to shut me up.
My stomach grumbles and protests as I climb out of the car. It had been looking forward to ice-cream. And chicken. Instead, I follow Colt into the dingy store front with a neon green sign in the window flashing ‘open’.
7
Colt
Em hates this place, but she comes for me. If it wasn’t for her I’d never be able to sit here long enough. As it is, my head bobs to the beat of the music and my knee bounces uncontrollably earning me a glare from Benson.
Em reaches out and places her hand on my knee to stop me from shaking. Leaning over me to watch Benson work, her thumb rubs soothing circles above my knee. I relax back in the chair and close my eyes.
AddINKted is the best tattoo shop in town. It’s a little unknown gem. From the outside it appears nondescript. The dark windows and rundown-looking shopfront cause people to pass by it without so much as a glance. But the guys that work here are true artists.
“What if Austin is persistent? He seems like the type of guy to never give up.” Em chews on her lip.
“Huh?” I peel one eye open. What is she talking about? I’m too focused on the needle digging into my skin, the burning sensation slowly spreading as Benson drags the tattoo machine down my arm in small, careful strokes.
“The bet with Rome. You’re not at all worried Austin’s determination will pay off?”
I scoff. I’m not worried. I know Em better than she knows herself. I also know Austin. He’ll be all over her like a dog with a bone for about five minutes. But the second he catches sight of someone else he’ll drop the bone fast.
“I’m more concerned with Rome.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s not going to want to lose, so he’ll do his best to help Austin along the way.”
“Meaning?”
“Rome will stop at nothing to win. He’ll cock-block Austin every chance he gets so Austin stays focused on you. He’ll create situations where you’re left alone together. He’ll do whatever it takes. Starting tonight.”
“And you’re still confident I won’t give in.”
“You’ve lasted nineteen years without being dicked. You can go another six months.”
Benson lifts his head and quirks an eyebrow while Em slides her hand from my knee to the inside of my thigh and pinches the skin as hard as she can.
I jerk my leg away and Benson slaps me on the back of the head.
“What was that for?” I rub my head with one hand and the bruise Em leaves on my leg with the other.
“For being a dick,” both Emerson and Benson answer at the same time.
“Sorry?” I say, more of a question than an apology.
“Don’t give me a half-assed apology. You keep Austin and Rome away from me for six months.”
My eyes widen. “You’re kidding me, right?”
How the hell am I supposed to do that?
“No. You got me into this mess. You can deal with it. Or pay Rome two thousand dollars.” Em smiles. It’s a sweet smile, her green eyes twinkle. Not with happiness. No. She’s pissed. Her far-too-sweet smile is proof of that.
“Two thousand dollars? Dude, what the hell kind of wager did you make?”
“That I won’t sleep with a guy on his team,” Em answers.
“Why would you do that?” Benson asks as he wipes some excess ink from my skin.
“Easiest two grand I’ll ever make.” I pick at the lint on my shorts. The lint that’s not there.
“If I were you,” Benson flicks his eyes to Emerson, “I’d lose the bet on purpose. Teach this punk a lesson.”
Em’s mouth pulls up into a grin as she agrees with him.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn her.
“Don’t worry, you know I won’t.”
I give her a smile. It’s half apologetic, half pleading, but she rolls her eyes and holds out her hand, sensing what I need. I slip my hand in hers and squeeze it in thanks as I settle back into the chair, closing my eyes and letting Benson finish marking my skin.
“Ice-cream now?” I ask Em once we’re back in the car, my arm wrapped in clear plastic to keep it protected.
She groans and hits her head on the head rest. “Yes, if you promise to get ice-cream and not run off somewhere else. My stomach can’t take the teasing.”
I laugh and hold out my fist for her to bump. “Deal.”
We’re late and should head straight to the party, but I have my priorities in order. Ice-cream comes first. I glance at my watch. We’re really fucking late. The tattoo didn’t take long, an hour because it was simple. Another date added to the list of dates already on my left bicep. They all mean something. Today’s date; the date we won the Championship. There are birthdays, too; mine, Dad’s, Em’s, Mom’s, and her death. The date we moved to college, getting Em as far from her parents as possible.
They’ve never called her, never asked my dad if he knew what happened to her.
They’re assholes.
And there’s a special place in hell for them.
There’s another date etched into my skin that Em has asked about multiple times, but I refuse to tell her what it means. It’s important, special, but it’s my special and the one secret I keep from her. She’ll figure it out, I’m sure. Until then, I enjoy keeping it to myself. It was a moment in time, although fleeting, it carved itself in me so deep, there’s no letting it go.
It was one of those defining moments. A moment that sets the course for your life.
Oh, there’s also the date Em let me touch her tits for the first time. Only time. But whatever. That was a momentous occasion and it deserves to be honored as much as anything. Em disagrees. But I’m a guy, and that was a fucking epic five minutes, the image seared into my brain.
I back the car out of our drive and head toward the center of town and the funky little ice-cream shoppe. After my tattoo was finished, we’d gone home to get ready for the party at the team’s house.