The Bet (North Woods University 1)

“Are you going to change or are you just going to stand there and watch me?”

“I…I don’t know, maybe I should change in the bathroom,” I say nervously.

“You know I pretty much saw you naked the other night, right?”

My cheeks heat in embarrassment, of course he did. Stupid Jules. Stupid. I must be showing every emotion that I’m feeling right at that moment because Rem cringes as if he realizes he said something wrong.

“I’m sorry Cole hurt you… If I would have known what he was planning, I wouldn’t have left you alone with him. I swear I had no idea that he put something in your drink and I thought you wanted to be with him since you went on a bunch of dates together. I was trying to let you go, let you be happy.”

“Dates? What? I never went on a date with him!” I nearly yell.

That fucking asshole.

Rem gives me a disbelieving look. “I saw you, Jules… at the diner, with Thomas and his girl. You all looked cozy.” There’s a jealousness that lingers in his voice.

“That wasn’t a date, Rem. I was there to pick up some chocolate cake and he talked me into sitting down with them while I was waiting. I was there for like five minutes and as soon as the waitress came back with my order, I jumped up and left. It wasn’t a date, Rem, believe me. I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid him. The last thing I would do is subject myself to an hour long date with the guy.”

“Fuck!” he curses, clearly angry with himself that he believed Cole’s pathetic story.

“Yeah, we weren’t dating and as for the other night, I just want to forget it ever happened. It’s one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“Well, I want you to know I wouldn’t ever do that to you…to anyone…”

“I already know that. You’re a pure gentleman.” I roll my eyes, and he lifts a questioning brow at me.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m definitely an asshole, but I wouldn’t do that. I can’t believe I was friends with him, that I didn’t see his douchebagness from a mile away. He never did end up coming back to the frat house and even if he tried, I wouldn’t have let him in. I won’t live with a fucking rapist. He’s pathetic and if I ever see him again, I’ll do more than rearrange his face. His family will need to make funeral arrangements.”

“He’s not worth it,” I respond, pulling my shirt off, and then unbuttoning my pants. As I push them down my legs, I catch Remington’s eyes wandering over my naked body. There’s a hunger in them, a primal need that’s directed right at me and it only gets worse when I reach around and unhook my bra. The need inside of me mounts when his pink tongue darts out over his full bottom lip. I want to kiss him, taste him.

My pussy clenches, but there’s nothing there to sedate the ache forming inside of it. I want Remington, almost as badly as I wanted him three years ago.

I slide the bra off and pull the shirt on that he gave me, trying my best not to react to him, and the heat in my core. When my head pops through the head hole, I find he’s still staring at me, but the look in his eyes has diminished a bit, almost like he’s suppressing the need.

“You want to wear the sweatpants too?” he asks, his voice deep, thicker than normal.

I shake my head without thinking, turn around, and walk over to the bed. He pulls off his shirt, discarding it on the floor before he follows me to the bed in nothing but a pair of boxers.

My mouth goes dry, and I chew on my bottom lip. I try not to let my gaze linger on his muscular chest and well-defined abs, but it’s so damn hard. It’s so unfair how good the last three years have been to his body. All deliciously firm muscle, each ab carved out like stone.

Gah, I have to stop.

He smirks when he catches me staring and I quickly crawl into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. I involuntarily shiver, my pulse quickening when he slides into bed and under the same sheet as me.

Bad. This is so bad.

“You’re just as shy now as you were back then.”

“Am not,” I lie.

“Shh, you don’t have to lie to me, Jules. I won’t judge you, or tease you.” There’s a teasing tone to his voice and I roll over to face him. I probably shouldn’t, but I’ve spent the last three years wondering if I should’ve told him I wanted him more than a friend. I think I can handle being this close to him now.