.jpg)
by Ashley Jade
Then I step out of my van and walk over to him.
As always, his navy blazer is off and the sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up his muscular forearms, showcasing his big hands and thick veins.
“Hey—”
Keeping a straight face, I hand him the file. We can talk after he’s read it and agreed to the terms.
The best way to go about doing this is to treat it like a business deal.
And in any good business deal, both parties benefit.
Cole sticking up for me yesterday was unexpected and awesome, but he’s still a self-serving asshole and if I told him I was doing this out of the goodness of my heart, he’d step all over me.
However, if there are rules and regulations in place…it will help put some boundaries between us.
And protect my heart.
“You want me to donate ten-thousand dollars to your church after we break up?”
Straightening my spine, I glare at him. “Is that a problem?”
I’d never accept his money for myself, but I have no problem with him giving it to people in need.
Plus, I know the idea of him donating to a church really grinds his gears…just like the idea of me dating him for months on end grinds mine.
Jaw tight, he leans against his car. “Nope. Cash or check?”
“Check will be fine.” Holding up my paper, I run my fingernail along the black ink. “Did you read through all the rules?”
“Not yet.” He scans his own paper and frowns. “I can’t kiss you?” He looks at me. “How the fuck do you expect people to believe we’re dating if we don’t kiss?”
I suppose he has a point. “Fine.” I take a black pen out of my bag and write an amendment on his contract and mine. “But you’re limited to three kisses a week.” I glance up at him. “No tongue.”
Shrugging, he continues reading. “Your loss. My tongue can do great things—wait a minute. You want me to attend a church session?”
“That’s not what it says.” Unlike him, I would never encroach on someone’s beliefs. “Youth group isn’t a church service. Besides, I’m only asking you to attend once.”
“Why? So the Jesus freak running it can try to convert me? No thanks.”
“The person running it won’t try to convert you. I promise.”
He eyes me skeptically. “What makes you so sure about that?”
“Because I’m the person who runs the youth group. Well, me and another person. We alternate every other week.”
“Why do you want me to go to this thing?”
“I’m hoping it will help you have a better appreciation and understanding for those who believe. I know what you think, but most people associated with the church aren’t standing on people’s doorsteps condemning them to the pits of Hell. In fact, a few of us are really cool and open-minded. If you give it a chance, you might like it. We socialize and talk about our problems—”
He holds up a hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save your Bible-thumping spiel for someone who actually gives a flying fuck about your Lord and Savior.” He stabs the paper with his finger. “I’ll go to this thing, but only if you agree to attend the rest of my football games this season.”
“How in the world is that fair? I’m only asking you to attend one—”
“The season is almost over. We only have two more games before the championship game.”
Pick your battles—I remind myself. “Fine.”
“Great. I look forward to seeing you in the stands at tonight’s game.”
Crap. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I have to work.”
He assesses me for what feels like forever before he speaks. “Fine. But make sure you’re there for the next one.” His eyes drop back to the paper. “The above party agrees not to hook up with any other girls during the duration of the relationship.” He raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Good Lord. I figured that rule would be a given, but apparently not.
“Yes. It’s going to make me look stupid if you’re” —I make air-quotes— “‘cheating’ on me left and right. If you can’t agree to keep your dick in your pants—”
He cuts me off with a husky laugh. “You should see your face right now.” A small smirk lines his mouth. “I won’t hook up with any other girls.”
A few cars pull into the parking lot.
“Great. Is there anything else you want to add to the contract before we sign it?”
He steps closer. “Can’t think of anything off the top of my head, but if I do, I’ll let you know and we can add it later.”
That doesn’t sit well with me. If I agree to start changing things at the drop of a hat, we’ll no longer have a solid framework.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We need structure.”
His gaze darkens. “Fine.” He takes the pen from me and signs it. “Are we done?”
I snatch my pen back from him and scrawl my signature next to his as a few more cars whizz into the parking lot.
“Do you want an extra copy for your records?”
“No. What I want is for you to lock both contracts in your van before anyone sees them.”
Someone’s awfully grumpy.
Begrudgingly, I do what he says.
I’m closing my van door when I feel him creep up behind me.
“Whoa there, buster,” I say as I spin around. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His hand curls around my hip and he tugs me against him. “Saying good morning to my girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “Right.”
“You’re gonna have to stop acting like a kitten in water every time I touch you.” His mouth dips to the crook of my neck and he inhales me. “You smell good.”
“It’s my vanilla and coconut shower gel.”
The feather-light flick of his tongue gives me goose bumps. “You taste even better.”
I swallow hard. “You know, it’s not mandatory for couples to partake in PDA. We can be one of those couples that don’t.”
His teeth scrape along my tender skin. “I want to be one of those couples that do.”
My eyes flutter closed as he gently suckles my flesh, marring me.
I really should have added a clause that neck kisses and hickeys were off limits.
Not only are they gross to look at…they feel good.
Too damn good.
It’s only then I notice everyone is heading inside…with the exception of the small gathering of people gawking at us like we’re some sort of science experiment gone wrong.
“Cole.”
More people stop and join the party. Fantastic.
They’re all probably wondering what planet they stumbled upon, because Cole mauling me in the school parking lot is not how the food chain works around here.
“People are starting to stare,” I hiss into his ear.
“Then we should give them a better show.”
I slap his shoulder. “I have to go to class.”
He painstakingly removes his mouth. “I’ll walk you.”
I start to nod but notice the group is still ogling us. “Show’s over. Nothing to see here.”
A few girls snicker.
“Ignore them,” he whispers.
Easy for Cole to say. Their contempt isn’t directed at him.
I’m about to start walking, but Casey and her squad saunter past us. “Shit.”
“We’re gonna have to face them sooner or later.”
“I vote later.”
My anxiety eases when they prance on by, not bothering to spare either of us a second glance. “I don’t think she saw—”
The words die in my throat when she tilts her head. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds, pig.”
More laughter. More stares.
Tiny beads of sweat dot my forehead. I can’t do this.
Cole narrows his eyes at her. “You know what they say…a rough draft comes before a
masterpiece.”
She taps her lips with her finger, pretending to think. “Funny, because I don’t remember ever coming for you.”
A few people gasp.
“Burn,” some guy calls out.
My stomach clenches. Cole’s not the kind to be one-upped by anyone…let alone Casey.
Dimples on full display, Cole says, “And I don’t recall ever giving a fuck.”
Casey would have won their little showdown…if it wasn’t for the hurt look on her face and the slight tremble of her lower lip.
Her crew swarms around her in a protective cocoon as they amble toward the building.
“You don’t need that asshole.”
“She’s so fat.”
“You should skip tonight’s game and fuck Todd again.” This from Bianca.
“He so downgraded, girl.”
I hate the weird feeling burrowing in my chest.
The one telling me I’m the one in the wrong.
“This was a bad idea.”
“Why?” Cole hikes a thumb behind him. “Because of Casey?” He snorts. “Trust me. She’s fine. This is her M.O. If she’s losing, she’ll settle for the sympathy vote instead. Besides, she’s the one who cheated on me, remember?”
“Yeah. But unlike you, I also remember when you cheated on her.” I shoulder my backpack. “I don’t feel very good about this, Cole. She’s obviously hurting.”
“She’s manipulating.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s why she was baiting me before.”
I don’t understand what he means. “Baiting you? How?”
“Come on, Bible Thumper. I thought you were smarter than this.” His features grow taut. “When she made the comment about me never making her come, she was expecting me to stand there and tell everyone just how hard I used to make her cream my dick in front of you to get under your skin.”
If that’s the case, she succeeded. I hate the way my insides twist with the imagery.
“Why would that bother me?” I say aloud. “We’re fake dating.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that.”
“Right.”
He grips both my shoulders. It’s a move that highlights the height difference between us.
“If this is gonna work, you can’t let her get inside your head. Promise me you won’t.”
I never make a promise I’m not sure I can keep. “I’ll try my best.” I look at my watch and wince. “We’re late for homeroom.”
He holds out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I take it.
“Can I ask you something?” I whisper, making sure we’re out of earshot as we walk under the overhang.
It’s something that’s been nagging at me ever since I agreed to be his girlfriend.
“Shoot.”
“If Cortland wins the bet, he gets your car, right?”
“He’s not winning,” Cole grinds out.
“Okay, fine. Then when you win, what do you get?”
There’s an arrogant gleam in his eyes. “To pop your cherry.”
Chapter 26
Cole
My phone buzzes in my pocket for the tenth time since class started.
I chuckle to myself. I never pegged Sawyer for a stage five clinger.
Sawyer: We are not having sex.
Hitting the reply button, I type out my response.
Cole: I know. School is such a cock blocker. We should cut the rest of the day and go back to my house.
My lips twitch as I hit send. If her panties weren’t in a bunch before, they certainly will be now.
Damn. Bad choice of words. Just thinking about Sawyer’s panties gives me a semi.
I wonder if they’re the lacy and see-through kind.
Nah. Knowing her, they’re probably plain cotton.
Innocent and pure…just like her little pussy.
Sawyer: Are you out of your mind? We are never having sex. Not today, not tomorrow…not ever. Understand?
Smiling to myself, I chew the end of my pen.
Cole: If you feel that strongly about not fucking me, you should have put it in the contract.
But she didn’t.
There was no mention of her impending deflowering.
I’d blame it on her being naïve and not knowing the full extent of the bet, but Bianca let it slip that Sawyer was hiding in the locker room.
She heard everything.
Yet, nothing in that contract said sex was off the table.
In fact, her contract distinctly states that I can’t hook up with any other girls.
Interesting word choice. A Freudian slip if there ever was one.
Sawyer: I didn’t put it in the contract because I thought it was a given.
Cole: I’ll be giving you something, all right. Babe.
Sawyer: First of all—don’t ever call me babe. Secondly—you won’t be giving me a damn thing I don’t want.
Oh, she’ll want it.
Sawyer: And just so we’re clear, what I’m referring to is your dick.
I try a different approach.
Cole: What about my fingers?
Cole: Or my tongue.
Cole: I could always use them at the same time, too. As a matter of fact, that’s a specialty of mine.
Sawyer: I’m good, champ. Thanks.
Christ. She’s a tougher nut to crack than I thought.
Time to drop the bomb.
Cole: Look, I appreciate a girl who’s a giver, but I wouldn’t feel right about you blowing me for the next six months and never returning the favor.
It takes her ten whole minutes to respond.
Sawyer: I beg your pardon?
Cole: Our contract specifically states we’re hooking up. But if sex, finger banging, and going to chow town on you are all off the table—that only leaves blow jobs.
Sawyer: My God, Covington. There’s so much wrong with that statement I’m not even sure where to begin.
Finally, we’re on the same page.
Cole: That makes two of us.
Sawyer: I never said anything about us hooking up in the contract. Are you illiterate? If so, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I can help.
Cole: I’m not illiterate, Church. Your little contract specifically says I can’t hook up with any other girls.
Sawyer: What’s your point?
Cole: The implication is there. ‘Any other girls’ indicates I’ll be hooking up with you.
Sawyer: Did you steal Oakley’s weed stash? The only thing it indicates is that you can’t pass your cock around like a bag of chips, you moron.
Jesus Christ. Six months is a long ass time.
Cole: Sorry, but that’s unacceptable.
Sawyer: Tough shit. You already accepted.
Cole: If we don’t fuck, I lose the bet.
Sawyer: Not my problem. I agreed to be your fake girlfriend. Not your hooker.
Cole: Having sex with me wouldn’t make you a hooker.
Sawyer: You’re right.
Eureka. About time she came around.
Sawyer: It would make me an idiot.
I slide my phone into my pocket.
This isn’t over.
Not until my cock is balls deep inside her and she’s screaming her Lord and Savior’s name.
Chapter 27
Sawyer
The student council meeting dragged on longer than it was supposed to, so by the time I meet Oakley in the library, I’m already ten minutes late.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him when I reach the table he’s sitting at.
Oakley’s so busy scribbling in his notepad, he doesn’t even look up.
I used to wonder what all his scribbling was about, but after peeking over his shoulder a few times, I’m pretty sure I’ve figured it out.
He might not have the hang of math, biology, or history, but he definitely has a way with words.
Specifically, when it comes to rhyming them.
He refers to them as bars—but that boy writes pure poetry.
>
Too bad he refuses to show his poems to anyone...including me.
I poke him. “Oakley.”
Eyes wide, he yanks out his earbuds. “Oh, shit. My bad.”
I take a seat across from him. “Are you ever going to let me read them?”
He stuffs the small notepad in his pocket. “Nope.” He looks at me curiously. “How tall are you?”
Talk about a random question. “A smidge over five feet. Why?”
He stands up. “That’ll do. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
He ushers me out of the library. “My car.”
Shock roots me to the spot as I take in the gigantic cartoon-like head with large blue eyes, dark bushy eyebrows, and a white fuzzy Mohawk that parts down the middle of the helmet.
I’m not sure what Oakley’s doing with Izzy, our school mascot, and I don’t know if I want to.
He’s already on thin ice with his grades as it is. The last thing he needs is to get in trouble for theft.
I rub my temples. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but why in the world do you have Izzy?”
“He was given to me.” He thrusts the massive head in my direction. “And now I’m giving him to you.”
Say what now? “Gee, thanks, but I don’t want him.”
I try to hand it back, but he declines. “Come on, Sawyer. I really need your help.”
I blink. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, Oak.”
He takes the joint from the shell of his ear and lights it. “Morgan’s little brother Scott is Izzy.”
Still doesn’t explain a thing. “And?”
Bringing the joint to his lips, he inhales. “Unfortunately, the little dude came down with mono this week and he’s gonna be out of commission for the rest of the season.” He frowns. “Scott doesn’t want the school to get someone to replace him because he doesn’t want to lose his position, so Morgan asked me if I would take over for the next two games.”