I Bet You(37)

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Ryker.” His voice is husky, and I rub my arms.

Charisma pops her head out the door, her hair definitely looking decidedly worse than mine. “Need some help?” Obviously, she heard who’s here. “I can hold him down while you pluck his chest hairs out?”

“No.” I shake my head, so she goes back to her bedroom and shuts the door.

I open the door and there he is. Wearing gym shorts and a Waylon hoodie, he looks rumpled and worn out. His gaze captures mine, his face lined and hard. The bruise around his eye brings everything that happened with Archer back into sharp focus.

“What do you want?” My hand clings to the doorjamb, and I block the entrance to my house.

“You didn’t respond to my texts,” are the first words out of his mouth. Accusatory.

“I know.”

“I’ve been worried sick. I sat on your porch for an hour hoping you’d come home. I went back to the library. I drove all over campus.” He exhales, pushing a hand through his hair. “Can we talk?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Why?”

“It’s late, and I’ve been drinking, and I don’t want to be around you.” My voice is brittle. “You broke my trust, Ryker. You told the team we had sex.”

A muscle in his cheek flexes. “Drinking?”

“At Cadillac’s with my friends.” Then I have to toss in, “Connor was there.”

Anger flits over his features and his eyes sharpen. “Really?”

My arms cross. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

His eyes laser in on mine. “But I owe you one. Let me come inside and we’ll talk.”

I rub at my forehead, already feeling the twinges of a headache that’s bound to morph into a full-blown jackhammer by morning.

“Red—”

“Stop calling me that.”

He bites his lip. “It didn’t happen the way you think it did. I didn’t have sex with you and then just bust up in practice, high-fiving everyone. Did you really think that about me? After everything we’ve talked about?”

I frown. “Don’t point fingers at me. This is not my fault. You fucked us up all on your own.”

He swallows and looks away. “I know. I tried to tell you in the library the other day. I just couldn’t.”

My heart cracks at his admittance and pain ripples through me.

“I wasn’t on board with that stupid bet, Penelope. I never accepted it. I told him no since the beginning. I’m not that guy. You know me.”

Do I?

“You have to believe me.” He leans in and I take a step back.

“Please. I don’t want you inside my house right now.”

He scrubs at the shadow on his face with both hands, a ragged look on his face. “Just…give me a chance.”

“Why? I gave you something precious, and you told everyone about it. Did you tell them I was a virgin too?”

“Fuck…no. I didn’t even mean to say what I did. It just came out. Blaze had just told me Archer harassed you then I went out on the field and he tackled me and we fought. My anger was out of control…I don’t know…everything just fell apart. I just…snapped.” He lets out a pent-up breath. “I hate that I said it, Red. I hate it so much. I wanted to take those words back—”

“Once you ring a bell, you can’t un-ring it.”

He closes his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

Emotion tugs at me, pulling at my chest.

But…I can’t.

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough. Good night, Ryker.”

I shut the door in his face.





Penelope



Margo sits across from me at the student center. Her face is pale, and she looks like she might hurl.

“Hangover?” I ask as we eat lunch together.

“Ughhhh,” comes from her as she sucks down her second glass of water.

“I should have told you to hydrate last night. Champagne headaches are the worst.” I grimace. I was smart and took a Tylenol before I went to bed; plus, I guzzled a Gatorade.

She nods and looks down at her pizza. “I don’t think I can eat this.”

“It’s barely edible anyway,” I say as I munch on my slice that has pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms.

“I ended up going back to Connor’s place last night.”

My ears perk up. “Oh yeah?”

“We had a few more drinks. We might have played strip chess.” She gulps. “Then I woke up on his couch wearing his shirt and my underwear.”

“And…did anything happen?”

She groans. “That’s the bad part. I have no idea. I got up before he did, grabbed my shit, and left.”

She said shit. I bite back a grin.

“Well if you were on the couch, probably nothing happened.”

She sighs. “I guess.” Giving herself a shake, she tightens her sweater around her shoulders and crosses her arms. “So, what’s the latest on the party? We all ready for tomorrow?”

I set down my pizza, flip my notebook page, and run my gaze over my list. I feel as if I’m moving in slow motion. All I can think about is Ryker and what he said. I shove it down and bury it deep. “Yes. We’re meeting the pledges here and walking over to the game together. Then we’ll head to the house. Everything’s all set.”

“And the players? Did Charisma take care of uninviting them?”

I nod. Charisma eagerly volunteered to be the one to text Blaze. Her message said, If any football players show up, we will pull your nipples off. Really. We will.

“She’s got it covered.”

Margo nods. “Good.” Then she frowns and gives me an odd look.

“What’s up?” I say.

“You recall the day I was with Ryker in the science building and you showed up?”

I nod.

Her chest leans in over the table, and there’s a glint in her eyes. “I just remembered something Archer said to him. They didn’t know I was standing there, and it was hard to hear, but I caught the gist of it.”

“What?” My lips tighten.

“No, it’s not bad. I recall Archer giving him grief about a bet and Ryker saying he wasn’t doing any bets.” She squints. “I really think Archer was referring to you, because you had just walked past us.” Her teeth chew on her bottom lip. “Does that make you feel better?”

I shrug. The truth is he told them he won.

I sigh. “Are you saying you want Ryker at the party?”

She waves her hands. “No, no! I don’t care about that anymore. That whole thing was stupid, and I never should have put my own issues with the Thetas over everything else…” She stops. “I’m just trying to be a good stepsister, I guess, and help you figure this out.”

I smile. Something good has happened. We’re friends.

Her eyes go past my shoulder and land on something. Her expression hardens. “There’s Archer. Don’t look, but holy moly, his face.”

Of course I look. I turn around, and he’s coming out of the bookstore. There’s no Sasha next to him and no other players. He’s wearing a black hoodie with the top up, but it doesn’t hide that he now has two black eyes. His gaze darts around the student center and then he hurries down the steps and out to campus.

My hands clench around my notebook. Shit.

Margo grimaces. “He looks like someone beat the poop out of him.”

“Again,” I say.

Charisma has come in from getting her pizza and takes a seat across from me. “Yep. I heard about it in class this morning. Apparently Ryker showed up at his door, pulled him out in the hall, and pummeled him. Took four RAs and the house director to get him off Archer.” She chews on a slice. “None of his buddies helped him either. Not one single player on the defense.”

My face is grim. “What’s everyone saying about me and Ryker? Does everyone know?”

She gives me a pat. “No one is saying anything, and I’ve been pressing. There’s nothing on social media. Only assholes will talk it up anyway.”

I nod.

“What did Ryker say last night? Maybe he’s the one squashing this?”

I shrug.

I’m just so…done.

And broken.

Just talking about him makes my chest ache.





I’m walking out of my writing class when I pass by my dad’s office. I see it two times a week as I walk this hallway and never once have I stopped to see if he’s there.

Something’s different today. I feel different. Raw. Emotional.

Hitching my backpack up on my shoulder, I ease over to the sign posted next to his door to check out his office hours. He doesn’t have a class scheduled right now, and when I knock on the beveled glass door, his gruff voice says, “Come in.”

I open the door and step inside. It’s a spacious office with a big window, dusty potted plants, and a few shabby armchairs—typical professor. A large oak desk dominates the room with a line of heavy bookshelves behind it. My gaze lands there and stays.

“Have a seat, please. Got to get these grades in before I lose my place.” He’s got readers on and is staring down at his desktop.

“Okay.” I settle into one of the roomy green armchairs across from him.

At the sound of my voice, his head pops up and he takes off his glasses, setting them on the papers in front of him. “Penelope! What a pleasure. I wasn’t expecting you. How are you?”