Page 78 of Devil's Bargain

THIRTEEN

I shoot up in bed, bleary-eyed and confused. This is not my bedroom. I scan my eyes over the grey walls, mahogany furniture, and the trophies in the glass cabinet. Morning sunshine pours through the slats, casting streaks across the bed.

I look to my left and press a palm over my mouth.

Rick is asleep on his front next to me, fully dressed atop the sheets. I’m underneath the quilt. He must have moved me in the night.

I’m struck by the sudden urge to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. He looks almost angelic in his sleep. Everything about him is softer somehow.

I go to move off the bed, but his hand shoots out and latches around my wrist. “Don’t go!”

“I have to.”

He rolls over on his back and rubs his hands over his face. His T-shirt has rolled up over his belly button, and the flash of abs makes my mouth go dry. Speaking of mouth. Mine tastes like ash.

“I’ll make you breakfast.” He gets up and walks over to the door.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

I follow after him as we go downstairs to the big kitchen. It’s white and bright. The cabinets gleam, and the kitchen floor is spotless.

Rick opens the fridge and pulls out eggs and milk.

I walk over to the island and take a seat on one of the tall chairs. “You know how to cook pancakes?”

He finds plates and a glass bowl in one of the cupboards overhead. “I’m not just a pretty face. I am capable of more than catching a ball.”

“You can throw it too?” I jest, earning a chuckle from him.

“You should come to my game later,” he says as he gets flour from the pantry.

“I can’t, Rick.”

“Bring your friend, the girl with the black bob.”

I watch him whisk and pour the batter into the pan. “Why do you want me there?” I don’t know why I keep asking him this, but it matters a lot to me for some reason.

He roots through the draws for a spatula. “I told you! I want you there.”

“Why? Are you going to make a love heart with your hands?”

He chuckles. “I’ve never done that shit!”

“Not even to Emily?” Me and my big fat mouth!

“Not even Emily!”

“What about Madeleine? Do you want her there too?”

He flips the pancake. The smell is mouthwatering. “She’s a cheerleader. She’s always there.”

“So give her the love heart symbol.”

He scoffs. “I think I’d rather give it to Jamie.”

His best friend, the blonde receiver.“I thought you liked Madeleine?”

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