Page 5 of Counter Bet

“Rick,” I breathe, fisting his letterman jacket. He spins me around, kicks my legs apart, and works his belt. My phone taunts me on my bedside table. The screen is still lit up with Dallas’ profile.

Rick shifts behind me, and I feel him at my entrance just as he grabs my hair and sinks into me on a grunt.

The phone screen finally goes dark, but Dallas’ carefree smile still burns the back of my retinas.

Rick starts thrusting. I can’t shake the image of Dallas’ slender hands and the glimpse of her creamy thighs peeking through the rips in her jeans. Or the expanse of her neck as she tucks her hair behind her ear. The way she sucks her plump lip between her teeth when she concentrates…

My cheek is squished against the wall, and Rick fondles my breast beneath the jersey with one hand. His other hand is on the wall next to my face. It’s almost as big as my head. I’ve watched him throw countless perfect footballs with that hand, making scouts froth at the mouth. He finally comes with a deep groan, breathing heavily in my ear.

Tears prick my eyes as I stare at the phone.

I feel nothing.

* * *

Dallas grins, pointing her fork at Ben, a boy with green-dyed hair, just as another girl throws her head back on a laugh.

I sweep my eyes over their table across the lunch hall. My mom would suffer a conniption if I tried to leave the house with purple lipstick and black eyeshadow like Dallas and her friends. I have an image to uphold.

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my orange juice.

I should try it for fun one day. See how she reacts.

My treacherous eyes soon flick back up. Ben holds out his tattooed arm and smirks while the others inspect a new tattoo of his. He’s got a reputation as one of the bad boys in town. Another troubled kid from the wrong side of the tracks.

I compare him to Rick, who’s currently in the process of choking on his sports drink after one of the guys on the team made him laugh. They’re like day and night. Rick is your typical footballer. Big and bulky and is rarely seen without his letterman jacket. The weight of it on my shoulders right now proves my point.

Ben is slim and tall with enough definition in his arms to make you look twice.

Rick laughs a lot. Even now, his raucous laughter rings out in the crowded lunch hall, and his body shakes from the force of it next to me. As if he can feel my eyes on him, he glances at me and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

Ben rarely smiles, but he smirks a lot, just this slight, dirty tug to the left side of his mouth. It makes you want to linger there with your eyes. There’s something unpredictable about him.

Something untamed.

A sudden laugh to my left tears me from my thoughts.

Jamie punches Rick in the arm, then ducks as Rick launches out of his chair. They fight to get each other in a headlock, laughing like scrapping kids while the other guys at the lunch table holler in encouragement.

I move my food around on the plate, half-listening to Hailey’s conversation about the latest clothing shop opening up in town.

Rick sits back down, grinning. He runs a hand through his tousled hair, then steals a kiss. “Are you staying to watch the practice later?”

I reach for my glass. My eyes flick up and land on Dallas.

She straddles Ben’s lap.

“Maybe,” I reply distractedly. They must be fucking? Why else would she be nipping his jaw with her teeth in the cafeteria of all places?

She brazenly shoves her hand down his jeans and begins stroking him in plain sight. My eyes widen. I place my drink down on the table and scan the nearby tables. No one pays them attention. Not even the others at their table.

Dallas is like that. She doesn’t care about anything.

* * *

“Stop there, young lady!”

I come to a halt, barely managing to suppress a groan.

---