Home > Bet in the Dark(8)

Bet in the Dark(8)
Author: Rachel Higginson

Also I had to stop referring to him as Fin Hunter in my head. He was not a celebrity.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, Ellie,” he said on a soft mumble.

I cleared my throat, hating how my girl-brain went straight to planning our wedding at the sound of future promise in his voice. I was an idiot. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza?” he asked like he was giving me a choice.

“Sure,” I squeaked, trying to ignore the way my mouth watered. “Sounds good.”

Pizza? As in a real meal! I stayed my enthusiasm until I heard him give his order and credit card number over the phone and then I bounced up and down in my seat like I just won the lottery. Hooray, a real meal!

I would just ignore the sinking thought that I was really selling my soul for pizza. Well, pizza and a debt of seven thousand dollars.

Plus, just because I was eating his pizza, did not by any means, make me friends, colleagues, associates or anything else with Fin Hunter.

With Fin.

Just Fin.

“Why do you look so happy?”

I snapped my head his direction and mashed my lips together to hide my smile. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes again, as if studying the whole of me; not just my outward appearance, not even my mood, he was studying all of me, every part, hidden and exposed.

His gaze was unnerving and the intelligence behind it was completely unexpected. Not that I wasn’t used to smart jocks, all three of my brothers were incredible athletes and super smart. Still, it was honestly unexpected from Fin.

“I just really love pizza,” I admitted when his gaze did not soften or lessen in intensity.

“But you’re so thin,” he observed and I hated that his words felt like an insult.

“Um, thanks?” I shook my head trying to play off the disappointment I felt, but he tilted his head as if I should explain my size to him. Did he interrogate all girls like this? It would explain why he didn’t have a girlfriend.

I didn’t even want to examine why I knew he didn’t have a girlfriend.

“I don’t get to eat it very often,” I explained. “It’s kind of a special treat for me.”

A light bulb must have gone off in his head because suddenly his expression turned smug and knowing. “Oh you’re one of those girls.”

I popped up from my seat, arms crossed, ready for battle. “One of what girls?” I demanded.

“The kind that never eats, the kind that starves to stay skinny,” he deduced arrogantly.

“You are such a cocky bastard,” I grumbled, plopping back down in my seat. I was livid. Not that his argument was at all founded. I grew up fighting for my meals, learning how to beat all the boys to the dinner table and then fending them off while I assured my own sustenance. But still, just because a girl didn’t eat in front of guys didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. She could be nervous. Or self-conscious. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility she might not be hungry. Gah, boys could be so thick-headed.

“Did you say bastard?” Fin asked on a smothered laugh.

“Shut it.” I turned back to the computer, pretending to do work although he hadn’t told me what to do next so I was pathetically at a standstill.

“Geez, Ellie, you’re so bossy,” he whined while walking across the living room to where I sat. “I had no idea, timid Ellie Harris could be so demanding.” He came to a stop, hovering over me. He was uncomfortably close and then he leaned down to rest his hands on the desk so that I had no choice but to smell him, to breathe in his yummy body wash, or deodorant or whatever it was that smelled so…. yummy.

When I didn’t respond to his jab, he leaned forward on his hands, bring his face even closer to mine. He inhaled deeply and my head whipped around, alarmed at the thought that he was….

“Did you just smell me?”

He gave me a sheepish grin and then took a lock of hair in my hand. “It’s not my fault you belong on a shampoo commercial.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah right.”

“What?” he demanded, rubbing the strands of hair back and forth between his forefinger and thumb as if mesmerized.

I glanced up at his perfect, shiny dark hair and rolled my eyes again.

Seeing that I wasn’t going to get an answer he went back to his original argument. “You have no problem eating in front of me?”

“Trust me, you will be lucky to get any pizza for yourself,” I admitted and then had to bat his hand away when he tugged on the lock of hair he was holding.

“So this is good metabolism?” his fingers left my hair to squeeze my measly bicep between them in a hard pinch. I swatted at him again, but he dodged my weak attempts at self-defense.

“Why are you so concerned with my diet?” I growled.

“You owe me a lot of money. I’m just protecting my interests,” he grinned down at me. And once again I was flooded by him, by every part of him. He was invading my space, attacking my senses and it was completely disorienting.

I let out a groan of irritation to which he chuckled at.

“You’re really not on some weird diet?” he pushed and this time the concern marking his tone pressed against my more sensitive feelings, demanding I open up to him.

Just a little bit.

“I’m on the Ramen Noodle diet, does that count?” I admitted on a mumble.

“The what diet? Why?” he actually sounded appalled. Like he was too good for Ramen Noodles. He was in college, it was like part of a code.

“You know, because I can’t afford anything else? I’m a poor, desolate college student.” I said by way of explanation.

He cocked his head back, like my words made no sense to him whatsoever. He turned away from me, resting his nicely shaped backside against the desk and crossed his arms.

“No you’re not,” he finally announced.

“Excuse me?” I hissed, half from shock, half from embarrassment.

“I know all of three of your brothers, Ellie. And I know two of them fairly well. I‘ve gone to school with Beckett and Grayson for four years and Lennox is somewhat of a legend around here. Beckett is in most of my classes. You’re not poor and you’re not desolate.”

I stood up, angrier at him than I ever had been in our entire twenty-four hour acquaintance. And then I verbally attacked his…. shoes. Just because I was in the process of growing a backbone did not mean I was ready for a full on frontal assault. Much too risky. Besides, what if he looked hurt or shocked by my harsh words? Then I would be forced to feel bad for him. “Don’t act like you know me, because you don’t. Just because you Facebook-stalked me and know who my brothers are does not mean you know me.”

He twisted around so he could stare me down at me while I was compelled to look up at him and met his gaze. I was unsurprisingly unnerved by the intensity of his scrutiny. Why did he have to look at me like he could see through me? All the way through me? I kicked the chair out behind me and decided I would stomp my way to the bathroom and hide out there until the pizza arrived.

Then I would eat the pizza.

Then I would leave.

Very dignified.

“I didn’t say I knew you, Ellie. But your family does have money. I do know that,” His words slowed my progress and I whipped my head around to respond.

“Fin Hunter, I-“

“Just Fin,” he reached for my hand, clasping my fingers between his two much larger, much stronger ones. He tugged on it just a little bit and I stumbled into him. He was ready, opening his legs so that when I righted myself I came to a stop facing him, trapped between his outstretched legs and the solid wall of his chest. “Just Fin, Ellie. Or every time you say my name I’m going to think I’m in trouble.”

He looked up at me from under those dark lashes, and I forgot how to talk for a minute. Like all the way forgot, like my mouth had no idea how to make sound come out of it. This wasn’t fair. He was using all of his charm and wiliness on me and I was left to fumble around confused and…. flustered.

“But usually you are in trouble,” I somehow came up with a witty, if not true response, although I had no idea how any kind of rational thought was getting past his body heat or deeply heated eyes.

“Seems to me like you attract trouble,” he rumbled in his deep voice that seemed to drop an octave with anticipation.

Goosebumps immediately rose all over my skin and I felt myself lean toward him even though I knew he was just messing with me. A chill shivered down my spine and I couldn’t stop myself, I was going to kiss him. Inside my head, I was screaming at myself to stop this madness, to wiggle away from him, but I couldn’t. He had this tractor beam radiating from him, drawing me to him like a moth to the light, or more accurately like a stupid mosquito to a deadly bug zapper.

I was helpless to fight this pull, to struggle against the invisible line he had tied to me. And now in just sEconds I suddenly felt this overwhelming need to taste his lips, an obsession to find out how they would feel against mine. Soft or hard? Insistent and frenzied or slow and sensual? My fingers literally itched with a crazed need to run along his scruffy jawline and my heart was fluttering with anticipation. I had to kiss him or I would die.

Saved by the buzzer. Literally. The screaming, ultra loud buzzer blasted through the silence between us and we both jerked apart. I leapt out of his way, while he stood at the same time. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, tugging at the roots. He stared unseeing at the door for a minute, while I tried to find a large enough something to crawl under and possibly die. I didn’t know if cause of death would ultimately be from stupidity or embarrassment, but I was positive at this point, either one was possible.

If only I could find a space big enough to hide my stupid, betraying body.

I could not believe I was about to kiss him!

What kind of wanton idiot was I all of a sudden?

Maybe Colton did more of a number on me than I originally thought. After all it took me six months before I gave him an opportunity to kiss me. Not that he didn’t try, I just never let myself be open to that. Then again, I wasn’t sure I was super attracted to Colton in the first place. But those were therapeutical musings for another day. Besides, now here I was, not even three weeks out from our breakup and I was the one initiating things with the untouchable Fin Hunter.

I meant, Fin.

Just Fin.

The super-hot, super dangerous, super bad influence senior that knew all of my brothers.

Ding ding ding, and stupidity wins over embarrassment every day of the week.

“You alright, Ellie?” Fin was looking back at me from over his shoulder, his hand stilled on the intercom to let the pizza guy up.

I was standing in the middle of his living room biting a hole through my bottom lip.

Ugh.

“Fine,” I squeaked. Cleared my throat. And tried again, “I’m fine, just hungry. Faint with hunger almost. I mean, man cannot live off Ramen Noodles alone, right?” What was I saying??? I cleared my throat again. “What I’m trying to say is let the pizza guy-“

The loud buzzer blaring through the apartment cut off my command, but somehow I could still clearly hear Fin’s laughter.

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