Page 69 of Bet on It

Her eyes scanned her sheet with sharper and sharper focus at every ball that was pulled. Each time a number she didn’t have was called, she became slightly more demoralized. There were only three balls left spinning in the cage. That meant three very close, very real chances for her to walk out of the hall with a win and an excuse to have Walker inside her again. She shivered. It was so close, but she refused to let herself believe it would actually happen. She would save herself from the disappointment when she had to crawl into her bed alone again. She wasn’t going to win. She was not one of the lucky ones. Hadn’t she learned that already?

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The caller’s thin lips formed words that she couldn’t read from across the room, no matter how hard she tried.

“N69—either way up.”

Aja gasped, sucking in air so hard that she nearly choked on it. She’d gotten it. She’d won. She’d fucking won.

She looked over at Walker, eyes wide in shock. He looked confused for a second before he looked down at her sheet and saw the horizontal row of dauber prints right in the center. His eyes widened too, realization flooding into his gaze.

“Say somethin’,” he said quietly.

“What?” She was too stunned to comprehend much.

“You have to tell them you won, Aja.”

She swallowed. Was there anything someone with an anxiety disorder hated more than public speaking? Well, yes, tons of things, but it was still pretty fucking far up the list. She wanted this too much not to claim it though. Wanted to be able to say that she’d won, wanted the prize and recognition that came with it. And more than anything, she wanted the chance to be with the man she loved again.

“Bingo!” A few heads turned to stare, but the caller made no move to show that he’d heard her. It was mortifying. “B-Bingo!” she said again, louder. Raising an arm up, waving it around to draw more attention to herself.

It seemed to take the caller forever to make his way to her. When he got to her side of the table, he had to squeeze past the large pole to her right to get to her. It made her cringe.

She held her breath as the caller looked over her sheet. His slightly shaky index finger tracing the bingo as he made sure it was legitimate.

“B13, I24, N36, G50, O69. Well”—he straightened—“looks like we’ve got a bingo. Congratulations, young lady.”

“Th-thank you.”

The confirmation only made her heart beat faster. She took the proof-of-win with trembling hands, turning to look at Walker and Ms. May again. The older woman was grinning, reaching a hand across the table to congratulate her with a warm pat. Walker’s gaze was heavier; he’d moved past the initial shock and settled on something else entirely. She knew exactly what because it was mirrored in her own. This win of hers was worth more than the $300 prize. It meant heat and pleasure and closeness and intimacy. It meant everything.

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