Bending Bethany (3 page)

“So, you look like you had a fun night. I am digging the new dress. It may be a bit shorter than the previous apparel you were donning.”

“I was a little drunk last night, I guess,” I offered lamely.
 

“I would say so considering you didn’t get home till two minutes ago.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you did last night, Little Miss Responsible.” Her eyes grew wide when I didn’t reply. “Oh my God! This is rich! You just had your first one-night stand and you don’t even remember it!” she squealed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a poor excuse for a cheerleader.
 

“Taylor!” I sent her the angriest frown I could muster. “It’s not funny.”
 

“Well…little sis of mine…are you sore, ya know,” her eyes darted down, “down there?”

My eyes widened in horror, and I stopped to actually consider her question. I shifted my thighs back and forth, trying to ignore the aching abdominals and bruised glutes to focus on my vagina.
 

“Oh God.” I moved a hand over my mouth, a definite unfamiliar pinch from somewhere down deep inside.
 

“You did!” she shrieked again, making me cover both of my ears.
 

“Shut up! The neighbors will hear,” I seethed. “Now what do I do? I’ve never done this before. What’s the protocol?”

“What do you mean?” She turned her head in confusion.
 

“Well, I mean, will I never see him again? I feel like such a whore.” I suddenly had the urge to shower away the shame. Did I regret last night with Jenson? No, I guess I couldn’t if I wasn’t even quite clear on it yet, but that didn’t stop the guilt of the one-night stand from eating at me. “I don’t know how you do this all the time.”

“Hey, hooker. Not
all
the time.”
 

“Did you give him your number?”

“Um…I don’t really remember.”
 

“You’re a classy one. First night out and you get yourself in this kind of trouble,” she teased.
 

“Well, what about you? Where did you end up last night?” I countered.
 

“Right here, thank you very much. I was home earlier than normal.”

“Oh?” I knew there was more coming. There was always more coming with my sister.
 

“And Luc.” I heard the smile in her sing-song reply.
 

“You brought him back to our place? Now he knows where we live!”

“Hey! I got Luc’s number. I’m a pro, remember?”

I growled, unable to form any other intelligent reply. I stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind me.
 

I returned to my room and pulled out my customary uniform of leggings and an oversized tee before jumping in the shower to wash away last night’s shame. After soaping up and rinsing off, I headed back for my room, spotting the clutch I’d used last night. I rifled through the contents, hoping it would jog my memory.
 

My phone, wallet—cards all still intact—ChapStick, keys, and a folded note.

A note?

I flipped it over in my hands and read the chicken scratch.
 

555-3434

His phone number.
 

“Damn,” I said. This required I make a move. I didn’t have time for more, no time for dating. I had to keep my head in the game if I was going to graduate with honors.
 

I shoved the note back into the clutch, burying it where I wouldn’t have to be reminded of him. I stretched, falling back on the pillows and burrowing into the warmth of my blankets. My eyelids felt like they were weighted down with lead, the drinks from last night still pulsing through my bloodstream as a hangover took hold. I covered my head with a pillow and succumbed to sweet sleep, the only escape from him.

“Bethany!” My sister’s scream shattered the precious cloud of sleep I’d been floating in the last few hours. I launched out of bed and down the hallway, my heart slamming against my rib cage expecting to find god knows what when I finally reached the living room.
 

“So, Jenson, anything you want to say to the fans after last night’s winning triple?” I froze, a familiar face splashed across the television screen.
 

“Yeah, actually. Thanks so much to everyone for supporting me. Your signs and cards and messages mean so much.” Jenson paused as my heart thundered in romantic beats. “And to the special girl I met last night…I’ve got something of yours I’d like to return. Call me.”

I nearly crumpled to the floor as a wave of sheer embarrassment flamed my cheeks.
 

“Well, this just got interesting,” Taylor commented from across the room.
 

Mother. Fucking. Fuck.

Four

Jenson

It may have been a dick move, but I was desperate to get her attention. I knew she wouldn’t call. I knew when I had woken up and found her missing that the likelihood of her picking up the phone to call me was slim to none.
 

When I’d woke and saw her missing, I’d wanted nothing more than to find her. So I’d put on my sneakers and jogged down the street, aiming for the park, which is where I’d ran into that up and coming sports reporter. I’d seen him at a few games, and when his eyes had caught sight of me he’d jogged right up, phone held up and already recording.
 

The impromptu video interview was already hot fodder on the cable news networks by the time I’d returned from my jog. Even if she didn’t catch it on television, it would surely go viral on social media over the next few days.

Flashbacks of last night bombarded my brain. Kissing her against the front door, bending her over my kitchen counter. I’d seen that wild, uninhibited look in her eyes and damned if I didn’t want to see it again and again. By the time the sun rose on the Manhattan skyline, I knew I needed her.

I wanted more time with this girl. I loved when she’d ribbed me. Loved to be the butt of her jokes and the one to put that giant smile on her face.
 

Memories of last night flashed through my mind.
 

I was lucky to have even been out last night as I often preferred to keep to myself, but after the big win yesterday, the guys had convinced me to celebrate. I’d promised one beer, and I’d held my limit, but once my eyes had landed on the dark-haired girl with the bashful smile across the room, I’d known the night was over for me.
 

I wasn’t like Luc, interested in picking up girls, and getting rip-roaring drunk. I was happy sitting next to her at the bar, soaking up the glow about her, deflecting her barbs like a champ.
 

And it wasn’t often I had a mic shoved in my face—I avoided them if at all possible—but when the reporter had caught me on my jog in Central Park this morning and asked me a million questions about the game-crushing win last night, there was only one thought on my mind.
 

Her.

Like a robot, I’d sputtered out my message. His eyes had widened when I finished, so what could I do then but offer a rakish half grin?

I was already front-page gold for the tabloids anyway. Let them chew on this one for a while. Only difference was, the others were fantastical stories, public relations spins if I took a friend out to a gala, but this, this was something.
 

I grinned when I thought of the little present I had tucked away in the pocket of my athletic bag.
 

Her panties.
 

And you can bet I would have kept them if I could have gotten away with it, but instead of stewing and waiting for her to find that damn note, I pulled the trigger and ran with the best play available. The Panty Play.

Five

Bethany

“He has my panties, Taylor!” I shrieked, nearly splitting my own eardrums.
 

“Okay, okay, I see you’re upset. I know this isn’t common for you, so I want you to know, as your big sister, I’m here for you.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Now calm the fuck down.”

I scrunched up my nose at her in disdain. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t screw a pro soccer player and have him announce that he has your panties all over national television!”
 

“I know, you’ve always been the lucky bitch,” she grunted, and I swung a pillow at her head. “So obviously you have to go talk to him.”

“What? No, he can keep the panties. I just hate that he announced it all over TV. And the fact that he lied—you know he told me he worked in the Athletics department?”

“Well, he kinda does.” Taylor shrugged unhelpfully.
 

“Stop defending him!” I swung my other pillow at her head.
 

“Okay, okay,” she giggled, then curled up with the pillow I’d just tossed at her. “Seriously…was he good?”

“Taylor—”

“I’m not kidding. Do you want to see him again? It’s a valid question. I mean, obviously, he wants to see you.” She popped a Cheeto in her mouth and crunched obnoxiously. “And what if you left more than just your panties? Maybe you left a credit card or something? Did you check? I think you should call him.”

“Taylor, you know you’re not of much help.”

“Hey, just because you don’t like my opinion doesn’t make it unhelpful. I happen to think Jenson Abbott, star player of the New England Red Bulls, might be good for you.”

I arched an eyebrow at her.
 

“I Googled him.” She shrugged and popped another Cheeto in her mouth.
 

“Great. I’ve got a sex-on-a-stick soccer player mentioning me in interviews, and you’re practically pushing me into bed with him. I don’t know why I still live with you.”

“Because you’re broke and you can’t afford rent anywhere else,” she offered simply.

I huffed, narrowing my eyes at her. “Get out of my room. Leave the Cheetos.” She snagged one last cheesy bite, then waved as she sauntered out of the room, closing the door and leaving me some much needed privacy as she went.
 

I picked up Jenson’s note, having tucked it safely in my nightstand. Flipping over the bleached white paper in my hands, I traced his slanted handwriting with my finger. I sighed and picked up my phone.
 

I punched in the few numbers, then felt butterflies climbing up my esophagus as it rang.
 

“Hello?”

“Jenson? Uh, hi. It’s me, I mean, it’s Bethany.” I pushed a hand through my hair and tried to refrain from audibly sighing. I was no good at this stuff.
 

“Bethany! I’m glad you called.” His voice warmed instantly, sending lava charging through my delicate veins.
 

“I, uh, got your message.”

“Ah, right,” he chuckled, and I almost lost my mind. “Sorry about that. I just needed a way to get your attention.”

“Well, you’ve got it,” I replied, then kicked myself for being too curt. Despite my best defenses, I liked him. That revelation surprised me more than anything else.
 

“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

“No, no I can’t. I have an early class.”

“Oh, okay, early dinner? Come on, I know you have to eat.”

I paused, working a response over in my head. “You said you have something. Maybe you could bring it by? I really don’t have time for new friendships or anything right now. I’m sorry, Jenson. I know you’re busy, too.”

“Not too busy to take the prettiest girl in the world out to dinner.”

“You’re sweet,” I laughed, thinking he was persistent if anything. “But I really don’t have time. Believe me, I’m sparing us both a lot of energy.”

“I don’t agree with that, but I’m happy to stop by.”

“Great, perfect.” I rattled off my address. “So I’ll see you in a bit then?”

“See ya soon, Bethany.”

I hung up the phone, his words echoing in my head. His sweet voice turned my stomach to melted chocolate. Was he always so charming, so flirty, so perfect? His indulgent chuckle flamed my cheeks with embarrassment. This man was driving me absolutely insane and I’d only known him for less than 24 hours.

Six

Jenson

I hustled up the steps to her apartment, the bouquet of lilies overflowing in my arms. I knocked at the door.
 

“Bethany!” I heard her sister call as she opened the door. “Lover boy’s here!”

“Taylor!” I heard her quiet whisper just as her beautiful face came around the corner.
 

“Evenin’.” I grinned, holding the flowers out to her.
 

“Jenson.” She took the bouquet from my hands and pressed it to her nose. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”
 

“And of course,” I shoved a hand into my pocket, pulling out the thin scraps of fabric that were her panties, “these.”

Her cheeks flamed with the prettiest shade of strawberry, and I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss up and down her cheeks. I wasn’t one for romance and flowers, but this girl made me want to do all of that and so much more.
 

“Thank you for bringing them by.”

“I was just happy you called.”
 

Her smile turned up at the corners, and she hid her face behind the flowers.
 

“Can I take you to dinner now? I know you haven't eaten yet, the top knot and leggings tell me you’ve been studying all day. Time for a break?” I pulled her hand to mine and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.
 

“No, Jenson. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” Her eyes warmed with empathy. “You’re sweet, but I really am too busy for anything new right now, and I can only imagine how busy you are. I mean, you mentioned the travel, but that’s a lot of travel. Why didn’t you tell me you played soccer?”

“It’s not something I like to announce to people. On the rare occasion I’m not recognized, it’s nice to enjoy the anonymity for a while. As for time—the season’s almost over. I spend my days working out in the off-season. It’s boring, really.”

She grinned again. “Thank you for the flowers, Jenson, and ya know,” she lifted the panties in her palm, “my undergarments.” The crimson on her neck climbed higher. She was so damn sweet.