I Bet You(68)

Little did I know he was also Penelope’s dad’s coach years ago. Apparently, they still play golf together.

He listened, cursing a blue streak with each revelation.

And now here we sit.

Waiting for judgment.

He hitches up his pants and glares at both of us. “It ends today. We’re going to put this behind us and never speak of it again. If there is even a breath of it anywhere on social media or as gossip, you will be suspended from the team,” he growls. “This schoolyard nonsense is for babies. And not a fucking word will you speak to each other unless it’s you look nice today or may I buy you a sandwich kind of shit. Do you get it?”

I nod. It’s all I want. A real team. “Yes sir.”

He looks at Archer, whose lips are tight.

“Speak!” Coach says, making him flinch.

Archer swallows. “Yes sir. I understand. Does this mean I can still be captain?”

Coach glares at him. “Neither of you are captains. Not until you prove me wrong by your conduct. Feel me?”

We nod.

“Good.” He comes around the desk. “Now, let’s go talk to the team.” Coach stalks over to me. “I’m giving you point on this, Ryker. Say what you want to your teammates and get it all out.”

I give him a brief nod, and we walk out. I know exactly what I’m going to do.





Penelope



“You make a better Madonna than Madonna,” Charisma tells me as I plop down in the student section of the stands. I preen and strike a pose for her, my big cross earring dangling against my neck.

“Do a turn so I can see,” Margo calls out a few seats over.

I have a little room, so I do a pirouette in my black tutu and hot pink lace crop top, a consignment store find. The edges of the shirt are scalloped, and it comes to just below my titlets. A long black beaded necklace with a heavy cross pendant dangles to my navel, and a studded chain is wrapped around my waist and hangs down. On my feet are black booties with lacy socks.

It fits the rebel in me well.

Charisma gives me a fist bump. “Looking stellar.”

“You look snazzy yourself. Indiana Jones, I presume.” I check out her pants, hat, and the whip that’s resting next to her.

She toys with it. “It’s for Blaze. Later. I’m going to make him pay for not telling me everything.”

Margo is in a pink business suit with shoulder pads, pumps, and bouffant hair. Connor is next to her and has on a Polo with the collar popped and penny loafers. Finally, it fits.

“And that’s a touchdown, folks! First one of the game for the home team!” The announcer’s voice blares as the Wildcats score. I put my eyes on the field to see what’s going on. I was supposed to meet the Chi Omegas and walk over with them, but in the end, I needed some time alone to pump myself up before heading to the stadium. Part of me almost didn’t come, but eventually, I threw my clothes on and drove over here.

It isn’t long before my eyes find Ryker’s jersey as he jogs off the field to let the defense go on.

Our seats are close enough that when he reaches the bench and stalks toward the quarterback coach, I feel as if I can’t breathe. He’s magnificent dressed in his uniform. Broad shoulders. Tapered waist. Tightly muscled arms.

He takes off his helmet and whips his hair out of his face. It feels like forever since we spoke though I know it was just yesterday in the early hours.

Time moves differently when we aren’t together. Slugging along.

I grab my purse and put on lipstick, freshening up my cherry red. I contemplate sucking on a lollipop, but I forgot to bring any.

He looks up, his gaze searching the crowd, up and down the rows until finally he finds me. The air stands still and nothing seems to move as we look at each other.

I can’t make out the details, but his face softens. He closes his eyes briefly and when he looks at me again, I imagine I see regret on his visage. Amid the screams of the crowd and over the heads of the cheerleaders, he mouths something at me.

I shake my head at him and hold my hands up. No clue.

Do I care what he’s saying?

Part of me does. I want this anvil off my chest.

“What’s he saying?” Charisma murmurs.

“I don’t know.”

She looks from him to me. “Uh, are you sure? Because it’s pretty clear to me what that is.”

“I don’t know!”

He waves his hands and tries again, but another player comes along and gets his attention. He turns his head to look at the field then stares back at me. The other team has given up the ball, and it’s his turn to head back out. He sends me a final look and takes off for the huddle.

I watch him.

“Seriously? You didn’t see what he said?” She’s looking at me like I have two heads.

“No.”

She exhales, a thoughtful look on her face. “Let me ask you something: have you ever done or said something you really regretted like a second later?”

I nod.

“Have you done it recently?”

I think. “I manipulated Ryker into coming to the party. I made him feel like a commodity. His words.”

“Right. Sometimes we do and say not so great things to get the thing we really want—even at the expense of others.”