Page 64 of All Bets Are Off

I am fine. I can do this.

When I finally emerge from the bathroom after almost an hour, Shelby is shaking her ass side to side to her music as she applies mascara. She walked through the door just after I had picked up the flyer from our floor. She must have seen the mix of emotions on my face because she snatched it out of my hands, read the words on the other side and grinned widely.

There was no talking her out of joining after that. I tried to refuse her solidarity but she flat out told me that I would not be doing this alone, and well, I think I fell in love with her a little more at that moment.

Friends don’t let other friends run in their underwear without them.

We spent the rest of the week focusing on school work and ignoring the few rumors still lingering around campus about me. It’s been nice to feel a little more relaxed, not worrying about the guys pulling some bullshit, not panicking about Carson punishing me for it, and not caring what anyone is still saying about me. I wish I still felt that relaxed now.

When she sees me standing in the doorway she freezes, her eyes dropping down to take in my outfit and when I spy her simple pink boy shorts and white crop top, I cringe, suddenly feeling overdressed. I have to remind myself it’s out of necessity and not that I actually want to be dressed like this. If I had my own way I’d be rocking some Llama printed shorts and a black lace bra, my favorite go to combo.

She snorts a laugh, shaking her head. “Only you, Brielle Montgomery, could make me feel underdressed for an undie run.”

I can’t help but blush with embarrassment, if only she knew I wish I was dressed exactly like her. “Stop it, you look great,” I tell her, pausing before I add, “I’m just going for the conservative look is all.” I shrug, hoping I am acting casual enough for her to believe me and she laughs again.

“If by conservative you mean a sexy housewife that every guy is gonna wanna bone, then you’ve nailed it.” She finishes her lashes with a last swipe of mascara before she tosses it back in her makeup bag as I shift nervously on my feet. When she notices me she sighs, “B, I was kidding. You look fucking amazing. The guys won’t know what’s hit them.”

I voice my fear aloud. “They probably won’t even be there.” It’s something I have been pushing to the back of my mind all week. All the times we have done this, every bet since the first time they took that bracelet from me, we have done it together. All of us on one side, there for each other no matter what. But I ruined that. They might have been pushing me to take a bet, but I need to stop kidding myself into thinking this is going to be the way it used to. We aren’t in this together anymore, I am in this alone.

Shelby snorts again. “Bitch, please. Do you really think they are going to miss a chance to see you in your underwear? The tension with you guys is so thick I am surprised it hasn’t snapped already, especially with all that testosterone they throw around.”

Her words make my stomach flip over in anticipation of seeing them today. I wish I could tell her about the kiss I shared with Elias, about what happened last week in the gym with Zaiden, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to say it out loud, even to myself. It’s like if I say it then I am finally admitting we aren’t friends. Not because of the distance I put between the five of us, but because I finally crossed the line with two of them and I don’t know where that would leave us, even if we became friends again. Could we move past it? Would the other two be jealous? Would I, if I had to watch them with other girls again? Question after question that I can’t bring myself to dissect and answer.

“It’s complicated,” is all I can reply, and it’s the closest thing to the truth I can admit.

She smiles a sad smile, like she understands what I am going through as she glides pink lipgloss across her lips and smacks them together. “Well forget them, come over here and get a picture with me so I can show you how hot you look.”

My feet move on autopilot, grateful for the distraction as I happily pose in different ways as Shelby snaps numerous pictures of us. She is excited and it’s infectious as we smile and pull faces until she has taken at least two dozen photos. Once she is done, she taps away on her phone and I hate to burst her bubble, but I need tonight to go down without any distractions.

“Hey, can you not post any of those on social media yet please?” The uneasiness that curls at the bottom of my stomach has become a staple feeling for me lately, and I am doing my best to try and mash it down and not think about it.

Her fingers pause their methodical typing as she looks at me sympathetically and I feel even worse than I already did. “I take it you haven’t mentioned today's activities to your boyfriend?”

The word boyfriend makes me want to be sick, just like every other time I hear it, feel it. It reminds me of Carson’s poisonous words in my ear, his sickening touch against my skin, his forced cock down my throat. It takes everything in me to keep those thoughts off my face and I think over my words carefully before I respond, “Carson wouldn’t be over the moon about me running through campus in my underwear. He would get a little jealous and possessive and I don’t want to hurt him.”

My words aren’t actually a lie, Carson would be both jealous and possessive, but he would also be angry, and it wouldn’t be me hurting him, it would be him hurting me. The fear and anxiety of that is enough to make me almost not want to go.

I accepted the bet to force the guys to back off and in return keep Carson happy, but what if he finds out? I mean is a stupid bet with the guys really worth Carson’s wrath? Probably not, but despite that panic I’m feeling, I also feel a thrill inside of me. The kind that only the guys can bring out of me, the kind that rushes through my veins and sets my soul on fire. A feeling I’ve missed, a feeling I’ve craved, like an addict with a fix. Yet instead of just one, I have four, and today will be my first hit in months.

Shelby must sense my rising panic because her voice snaps me out of my distress. “Come on, let’s do a shot.”

“A shot?” I question her, but still accept the shot glass she grabs from the shelf above our shared desk, as she moves to dig out a bottle of tequila from under her bed.

“Yes, a shot,” she muses, shrugging as she fills both our glasses. “Have to stay warm somehow.” She smirks and then throws her head back as she downs hers, grimacing a little as it goes down.

I can’t help but laugh, she’s right, this is what I should be doing, drinking on a Friday night and running around in my underwear. It’s normal, fun even, and she has no idea how much I truly need the drink. So I drink my shot and then hold my hand out for another, her smile widens as she pours us both another and we drink those too. “That’s more like it,” she muses, shoving the bottle back under the bed and leaving the glasses on our desk. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Any nerves I had about doing this evaporate as soon as we make it outside. We barely stand out amongst the hoards of students in their underwear. There are people everywhere clad in all sorts of underwear, just an endless stream of boobs, butts, and pecs, and I can’t help but smile. I can disappear into this crowd and not worry, as long as the guys know I took part, it might not even make it back to Carson, if I’m lucky.

Shelby and I join the crowd heading towards the center of campus until we see a bunch of signs for the start of the race. There are a few hundred people gathered already and butterflies start to swirl in my stomach as excitement clouds any fear I was feeling earlier. This is going to be fun.

That thought is incinerated when the crowd parts and I spy the four reasons I am here in the first place.

Elias, Ashton, Zaiden, and Hudson.

They are standing court by one of the big statues, a flock of girls surrounding them but not quite crowding them as they exchange hushed words between each other as their eyes scan the crowd. For the first time since I got that flyer, I want to hide, to turn my back on them and push them away again. I have to remind myself that I am doing this for them, even if they don’t know why.

Ashton is the first to spot me, his eyes flickering wildly around as if desperately searching for me. When our eyes lock, I feel my skin rise in goosebumps under the intensity of his gaze. Ash has always looked at me like I am the only person in the world, as if I am the only thing in his entire life that matters, and it’s hard to have him looking at me now. Not because I don’t want him to, but because when he looks at me, he truly sees me, and from the concerned look in his eye now, I know I have been showing him too much. He hasn’t said anything or approached me after he saw Carson and I part ways outside the restaurant a couple of weeks ago, but I can’t shake the feeling he already knows something he shouldn’t.

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