Bet on It (35)

“Oh my God,” he heard Aja breathe softly. “Oh my God.”

The grin he threw her way felt unhinged.

He sat down when he saw one of the attendants approaching him. Once the man was behind him, looking down at his sheets, Walker found that his hands were shaking.

“Show me.” The man’s voice held a seriousness that would have been more in place behind the judge’s bench in a courthouse.

Walker pointed his finger along the line of numbers.

“B13, I36, N4, G46, O92,” the man read off the numbers, cross-checking them with the numbers that had been called over the course of the game. Then, he nodded his head once. “That’s a bingo.”

The confirmation sent Walker soaring. He had to hold himself back from jumping out of his seat, stripping his shirt off, and running around the room, waving it like a flag. On the inside, he was pumped, fists waving, face contorted in happiness. On the outside, he schooled his features enough to give the man a wide smile and a firm nod.

Then, within moments of the man handing him a paper of proof so he could claim his money, everything was back to normal. For everyone else at least. His heart still thundered, his cheeks stayed flushed. Goddamn. He finally realized why people did this—subjected themselves to the flat voices of disinterested bingo callers calling out a truly mind-numbing string of numbers and letters for hours on end. Winning felt incredible. If the feeling could be bottled, he would be first in line to shell out cash for it. He understood now why gambling was so dangerous for so many people. If this was how he was over a small win in small-town bingo, he couldn’t imagine how he’d be after a winning streak at the craps table.

When he finally got his breath back, he looked at Aja. Her eyes were on him, like she’d just been waiting for him to get himself together and turn to her before anyone else.

“Congratulations, Walker.” It was a genuine compliment, he could tell.

“Thank you,” he gushed. “This feels fucking amazing.”

Aja giggled—the twist in his chest started feeling familiar. “I bet it does. You shot up out of that seat like you’d just won the lottery.”

“Getting that bingo might be the best thing I’ve ever felt.” It was an exaggeration—kind of, maybe—but he was dazed.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised stamped on her face. But she made no comment.

“You want to get out of here then?” she asked him. “Or did you want to stick around and see if you can get another win?”

Walker looked at his watch; it was already nearing half past eight. Even in his excitement, he wanted to be around her—maybe even especially in his excitement. He still needed to get her home at a reasonable hour, and the odds of him getting two bingos on the same night were incredibly slim.

“Yeah.” He started gathering up his sheets. “Let’s get out of here.”

It only took a few minutes to collect Walker’s winnings, all three hundred dollars of it. And when they stepped outside into the thick summer air, his body hummed with satisfaction.

Their cars were parked right next to each other in the back of the sparsely populated parking lot. Aja leaned against the back door of her car, arms crossed as she looked at him.

“Where do you want to go eat?” She spoke softly, like she was scared of disturbing the peace around her. Aside from the crickets, it was quieter outside than it was indoors.

Staring at her, his mind went blank. How was he supposed to think about food when his already persistent elation was bolstered by everything about her—sight, sound, even just the possibility of her?

His legs propelled him forward until he was standing so close that he could make out the tiny, dark mole on the underside of her chin. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her chest expanded as her breaths drew in deeper.

His resolution to stay her friend be damned—Walker felt bold. Not bold like some asshole guy in a movie who kisses a woman without her permission. But bold like a different kind of guy, in a different kind of movie, who was about to tell a woman that he wanted her. Who was ready to put his desires on Front Street, knowing she could crash those desires with one quick flick of her tongue.

“I don’t know if I’m feelin’ hungry anymore.” Not for food anyway, which he didn’t dare tell her—not yet, not until he was positive that she wanted to hear it from him.

“Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “Well, that’s all right, I have food at home.…”

“Are you hungry right now, Aja? Like right now?”

If she was, he’d take her to get whatever the hell she wanted. Sit across from her while she ate her fill, send her on her way, and be content with it. Sure, he’d go home and jerk his dick until it was sore at the thought of her, but what else was new? But if she wasn’t hungry, if she was open to something else … that was different.

“I mean, I’m not starving or anything yet. But I thought…” she trailed off.

“I am hungry,” he assured her. “I’m just not hungry for food.”

He could see the exact moment the realization dawned on her. His breath stuck in his chest as he waited for her reaction.

It was dark, but the sky was lit up with twinkling stars that, paired with the streetlamps, illuminated her perfectly. The roundness of her face, the slope of her nose, the weight in her eyelids. Everything about her was clear and open for him to take in.