Betting on You

“Oh my God, Charlie!”

I looked up from the catnip-packed bird in my hand as Bailey was running toward me—literally—and wearing a huge grin. She somehow managed to smile in a way that was both childish (like a six-year-old getting a glimpse of Santa Claus on the roof) and sexy (like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted to do to you), all at the same time.

It made me crazy, swear to God.

“What?” I asked, and then she grabbed both of my arms and gave me a little shake.

“You will not believe what just happened, you freaking genius!”

“I like the sound of this,” I said, a little disappointed when she let go of my arms.

“He texted,” she squealed in a singsong voice. “Zack texted me!”

Huh? That was not what I’d expected her to say, and it felt like I’d just been punched in the stomach. She looked so fucking happy, and the happiness was because her ex had texted her.

Fucking awesome.

“Told you,” I said, clearing my throat and trying to ignore the tension flowing through me. “What’d he say?”

She pulled out her phone and read his response, beaming as if she’d never been so happy. “So how should I respond?”

Tell him to go to hell. The guy was clearly a moron and didn’t deserve her, but it was better for me if they got back together, wasn’t it?

“I’d go with something vague, like Let’s just say you missed one hell of a performance.”

That made her smile hitch even higher. “That is perfect.”

I watched her send the text, making happy puppy sounds that were so adorable, I wanted to hit something, but then she looked up and her smile dropped away. “Wait a second.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, torn between being glad she was no longer Zack-beaming and already missing her happy glow.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Her eyes moved over my face, like she was thinking hard. “He has a girlfriend.”

I didn’t say anything.

“So he shouldn’t be texting me if he has a girlfriend, right? And I don’t want to be the bitch who’s texting someone else’s boyfriend.”

Bailey’s concern-crinkle formed between her eyebrows, and she blinked a little faster.

“Maybe they broke up,” I said, trying to make her feel better while hoping—like a total asshole—that it wasn’t the case.

“Maybe,” she muttered. “I should probably find out.”

“Not a bad idea,” I replied, knowing I’d lost her. Her mind wasn’t with me—with us—anymore. It was with Zack.

Why did I suddenly fucking hate that so much?

And as we walked toward the registers, it occurred to me that holy shit, they could actually get back together.

Holy. Shit.

In all of the hypotheticals that streamed through my mind on a daily basis, I’d never considered the possibility of it. Not until right now.

And no. No. NO.

What the fuck would that mean for us?