Bet in the Dark (22 page)

             
Goodnight, Finley Hunter.

Chapter
Ten

              “That was brutal,” Jameson declared as soon as Professor Maken wrapped up our shared Econ class on Wednesday.

             
“No kidding,” I agreed. My brain felt fuzzy after the information dump I just sat through. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in yet, although I knew I was running out of time to decide, but I did know that anything involving Economics was out.

             
I packed up my notebook, textbook and various other things and then slipped my backpack on both shoulders. Jameson was waiting on me when I was finished, so I led the way up the stairs and out of the classroom.

             
I was not at all used to being friends with Jameson. Fin was hard enough to handle. Now I had Jameson wanting to sit by me every class and following me around after. It was bizarre. I just wasn’t used to having a whole lot of friends in general, let alone popular, hot, seniors that could probably be anywhere else but with me. Girls and guys stopped to talk to him on our way through the building. He nodded his head and said hello, but stayed with me until I reached the sidewalk outside.

             
I ducked against the constant drizzle and biting wind of the spring afternoon and headed toward the student union without really giving Jameson much instruction. He followed and I didn’t know what to think.

             
Running through the rain, didn’t give us much opportunity to talk though until we were inside the warmth and dryness of the student union. Shaking out his dark auburn hair he flashed me a perfect smile from underneath his shaggy hair.

             
“This weather
sucks
,” he groaned. “It’s supposed to stay like this all week and we have all day practice tomorrow for the meet.”

             
“Oh, you guys have a meet this week?” I asked, flipping my own damp hair over my shoulder. I was regretting my outfit today. In an effort to dress less missionary I wore a pair of black leggings and a royal blue tunic-style tank top that landed just below my hips that I borrowed from Britte. I had a long gray cardigan that covered half of my ass, but now that I was damp and soggy my clothes were clinging to me uncomfortably.

             
Jameson was in the middle of texting so he took a moment to finish and send before he answered me. “Yes, it’s a five day-er. Going to come show us some support?” He waggled his eyebrows and I laughed at him.

             
Britte walked over from our regular table and joined us. “Hey,” I greeted her. I was actually supposed to just meet her, but now I wasn’t really sure what to do with Jameson or how to get rid of him. “Jameson wants to know if we’re going to support him at his meet this week.”

             
Britte laughed before she could stop herself. “Sure, that sounds like us.”

             
“We could make posters,” I suggested, shooting her a devious smile.

             
“And t-shirts!”

             
“And sit in the front row!” I laughed harder.

             
“We could even do that thing, where people clap their hands and jump up and down and….” Britte trailed off pretending to be confused.

             
“Cheer?”

             
“Yes, we could cheer!” Britte ended on a high-pitched squeal and we both burst into laughter.

             
“So, you guys just hate organized sports or what?” Jameson asked, not at all entertained by us.

             
“We’re just kidding,” I shot him a smile, hoping he would relax. “I go to every one of Beckett’s games whenever my parents are in town and they make me.”

             
Britte started laughing all over again.

             
“Yeah, but baseball is boring,” Jameson insisted.

And he was right. Baseball
was
boring, and it was definitely the worst of all my brothers’ sports. I enjoyed watching the actual game of tennis the most when Lennox played. I even liked playing tennis. But Grayson’s wrestling career was by far my favorite, for obvious reasons. Grayson excluded, I was not about to complain about watching sweaty boys wrestle around…. Beckett and baseball was something I endured, although I recognized that he was an incredible athlete and did the best job he could at making it exciting.

             
“Truth,” I agreed with Jameson.

             
“So you should try a meet, you might like it.” He was not going to give up on this.

             
“She ran track, J. The girl knows what a meet is like,” Fin’s rumbly voice in my ear caused me to about jump out of my skin. Gah.
Jameson’s text message
. Darn him.

             
“Traitor,” I mumbled at him crankily. He retaliated with one of his heart-stopping smiles. Fin won hands down in the perfect-features-overalls, but Jameson had amazing teeth and when he smiled his whole face lit up. It helped that his skin was flawless and whenever it heated with emotion or exertion it turned the most attractive shade of pink in just the high planes.

             
“We look out for each other,” he explained and I wanted to roll my eyes. But I didn’t. I’d already offended him by making fun of cheering for him and I didn’t think his ego could take much more.

             
I knew better than anyone that boys were sensitive.

             
Before I could come up with anything sarcastic to retort Fin put a heavy arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. I wiggled a little, uncomfortable with being so connected to Fin in public. Either my brother’s spies were going to see us or people really were going to start putting us together as a couple. I highly doubted anybody knew who I was, but Fin was like a mini-celebrity and it made me nervous that he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me.

             
“Where did you come from?” I asked, deciding not to make a big deal out of this. At least not yet. Besides, I was having a really hard time remembering why exactly I didn’t want to be tucked in to his warm side.

             
“Study group,” he said simply.

             
“Oh, which class are you having trouble in?” I had to ask. I
had
to! Fin failing at something might just be enough to make him appear human to me. And that could be enough to shake him off forever.

             
“I
lead
a study group for some math classes, but tonight’s was a statistics group.” He looked down at me, over the scruff of his beard and straight into my eyes, although I knew my chest was kind of on display from his position towering over me. It was the stupid wet, low cut tank top and he was staring into my eyes. Not fair. He was supposed to ogle me so I could resent him for his uncontrollable lust.

             
“Of course you do,” I grumbled. He just smirked down at me.

             
“You guys had Econ?” Fin asked with notes of possession in his tone that he wasn’t even trying to hide.

             
“Mmm-hmmm,” I allowed but then wiggled away from him. We were going to have to talk about this. Soon. Once free of Fin’s touch I said, “Alright guys, see you later.” I lifted my hand and waved at them but Britte grabbed it and forced it back down.

             
“Ellie,” she quietly squeaked.

             
“You ladies have plans this afternoon?” Jameson asked with a smirk.

             
“I have class later,” I said quickly. It was still hours away, but eventually I had class.

             
“Well, we were going to go grab lunch in the cafeteria, want to come?” Fin asked. His eyes were boring into the side of my head but I refused to look at him.

             
I let Britte answer with a casual, “Sure,” knowing she was holding back her excitement while I was fighting the dread pulsing through me.

             
And this time it wasn’t just Fin and the boundaries I was desperately trying to maintain between us. I also had to worry about running into Beckett, possibly even Grayson, although that was less likely. And the biggest concern of them all was the fact that I couldn’t afford it!

             
“Actually, that sounds really fun,” I tried to make it sound like I believed what I was saying.
Tried. Probably didn’t succeed, but at least I tried. “
But I owe this one guy a ton of money and I can’t afford it. You guys have fun though!”

             
“What were you going to do for lunch then?” Fin asked as if he was actually concerned.

             
“I’ve got a hot date with a pack of spicy chicken Ramen back at my apartment,” I smiled confidently but the truth was the thought of eating another pack of too-salty noodles made my stomach churn with defiance. I knew I didn’t have a choice, I literally couldn’t waste any of my money on food, but there had to be something else out there with more than a four flavor rotating menu that also cost only thirteen cents a meal.

             
Fin scowled at me again, his eyebrows drew down and the corners of his mouth turned in so that I knew he was serious, but most of all dangerous.

             
“I’ll buy your lunch,” he declared and it sounded every ounce the command that it was.

             
“No, I don’t think-“ I started with every intention to go from carefully polite to a full on refusal.

             
“I’ll buy it,” Britte volunteered before I could come up with any real defense. “I owe you
anyway
.”

             
“For what?” I raised my eyebrows and waited for her answer, daring her to come up with something. She didn’t owe me for anything.

             
“For that thing, the other day.” She countered my eyebrow raise with one of her own and I knew I was defeated. At this point I was just being selfish.

             
Besides, there was this nervous fluttering in my stomach that insisted I wanted to eat lunch with Fin.

             
“Fine, you can pay me back. By buying me a huge, gigantic lunch that will distend my stomach and make me gain at least five pounds.”

             
Britte laughed out loud but agreed while Fin and Jameson just shot each other a confused look.

             
Britte explained, “She’s been traumatized by Ramen Noodles.”

             
Fin led the way to the cafeteria through the rain. By the time we navigated the sidewalks and around others running from the weather we were even wetter, my clothes even clingier. We stood panting and catching our breath in the lobby of the cafeteria, dripping water onto an already sodden mat. Well, Britte and I were panting, the boys looked none the worse for wear. Fin and Jameson shook out their hair while Britte and I worked hard at adjusting our clothing and wringing out our own hair.

             
She was doing much better than me since she had the foresight to wear a jacket today with a hood. Her hair was only damp and her clothes relatively untouched although her skinny jeans were now even more molded to her than before.

             
Fin was giving me an incomprehensible look as I pulled my tank top away from my skin and fanned it a little bit. His jaw was working back and forth and his arms folded across his chest. All in all, the rain had done nothing but make him more irresistible. His t-shirt clung to all his rigid, sculpted muscles, his eye lashes were spiked with moisture and his hair just damp enough that I had visions of him just out of the shower.

             
What?

             
Where did that thought come from?

             
I needed to pull myself together.

             
Charlie pushed through the doors at that moment drawing all of our attention to him and another guy I had seen around Fin before. Jameson and Fin said their hellos, and introduced us to Gunner.

             
“Gunner?” I asked just to make sure I got his name right.

             
“Not my real name,” he admitted seeming just a little bit embarrassed. “It’s a nickname.”

             
“He’s a sprinter. The hundred and two hundred,” Jameson explained. If I hadn’t run track in high school I wouldn’t have known those were the fastest sprints, so I guessed the nickname made sense.

             
“My real name is Ben Gunning, but I’m fast,” he said matter of factly.

             
“Good for you,” Britte mumbled, but she sounded amused.