Page 23 of Missed Exit

“Were you so wise and responsible at twenty-one?”

“No, which is exactly why I know how badly he’s about to fuck up.”

“Well, if you’re going to fuck up, your early twenties is the time to do it.”

“Some of us fuck up worse than others.” I open both the beers she’s set on the coffee table. The caps twist off, but she always waits for me to open them. I know she could open her own, but it’s become part of our routine for me to do it. And I like it.

“I bet you weren’t so bad,” she says.

“You’d lose that bet. I bet you never fucked up on any level.”

“And you’d lose that bet.”

We clink the necks of our bottles together and settle back against her couch cushions to watch the ballgame. My ’Stros are going to blow her Cards out of the water.

“Speaking of bets, care to wager on the game?” I ask.

“Hmm, what’d you have in mind?”

“If the Astros win this game by more than five, you have to cook me dinner tonight. If not, I’ll cook.”

“Why such low stakes? Not showing much faith in your team there. If the Astros are up on my Cardinals by more than five runs at any point in this game, I’ll not only cook you dinner, I’ll serve it to you naked.”

“Whoa. That’s a lot of confidence in a team you weren’t even a fan of until a few weeks ago. Playing a sport you’d never watched. You sure you want to risk that much?”

“Go big or go home.”

She extends her hand, and I shake on the bet. But I never want her to go back home. Not that Agate Ridge is home for me, either. I’m not sure where home is for me, anymore.

13

Greta

How I'm Not Gonna Die

Istillcan’tbelievethe Cardinals failed me like this. But if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s doubling down when I should’ve cut my losses. I raised the stakes, and now, I’m his naked beer maid while we wait on the grocery store take-and-bake pizza in my oven to finish cooking.

Honestly, I think he expected me to try to get out of it, but I don’t skip out on a bet. Besides, I hate being underestimated.

So, I took it all off like the supremely confident woman I’m currently pretending to be as his eyes roam over my body.

Law accepts the cold bottle from my hand and snakes his other arm around my lower back to pull me closer as he takes the first sip of the beer.

“How do you like it?” I know it’s his favorite beer, but I’m playing a role here, and staying in character is my only hope of getting through this.

“It seems a little more hoppy than usual.” He touches the tip of the bottle between my breasts, and I try not to jump. When he pulls it down between my ribs, I maintain eye contact. He drags it lower, pausing at my belly button for a moment, trying to read my reaction, but I’m doing everything in my power not to give him one.

My gaze is steely. It has to be. The brown bottle slides down my abdomen. A shiver wracks my spine when he slips it between my legs.

Am I really about to let him do what I think he’s about to do?

The glass lip is no longer cold when it makes contact with my pussy. He continues his critique. “I think it needs a little sweetness to take the edge off.”

Okay, I did not expect this when I decided to pay up, but I’m not going to let him unnerve me. I can match his energy.

He glides the mouth of the bottle back and forth between my seam. I smile, still staring straight into his eyes even as my walls clench in anticipation. When he pushes it inside me, he almost breaks my resolve. He doesn’t go far, just the first few inches, but my heels leave the ground, and my breath stutters.

I forget to breathe at all when he brings the bottle back to his mouth and traces the rim with the tip of his tongue before taking his second sip. “Yeah, that’s better.”

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