Page 48 of The Bet
“I’m nothing like my brother, and I thank my fucking stars for it.”
“Will you stop swearing?”
He turned away, clenching his teeth. He didn’t know how to win her over. She was frigid. Or a lesbian. And if that was the case, then he had no hope in hell.
He was starting to feel that the bet had been a huge mistake. A drunken proposal made in the heat of a sultry evening, after a good too many tequila shots. He had started to think that the moment he had landed back in New York and listened to the messages on his answering machine. Lots of messages, from lots of interested women. A lot of people knew he had been to his brother’s wedding, and many wanted the low down, he was sure. He’d had to turn down multiple offers of lunch and brunch and drinks with gorgeous girls, forthis? For a Saturday in a fucking park with a girl who had no interest in giving him the time of day.
Screw it.
Playing along with this bet was a waste of his time and frankly, he didn’t have months to waste, or wait, until he got some pussy again.
As tempted as he was to tell Jacob that it was time to go home, the look on that kid’s face made him wait. The boy was having a good time. But once Jacob was ready to leave, he was going to drop them home, and then hit The Oasis.
It was time to let Luke know.
He’d had enough.
~ ~ ~
She rubbed her hands together and watched Jacob whizzing down the path gleefully. He wasn’t feeling the cold one bit, even though there was a chill in the air, and as the afternoon drew on, she started to feel the cold even more.
She glanced over at Xavier who looked to be freezing.
Pathetic.
He was so full of hot air she couldn’t imagine him ever feeling cold, and were it not for the way he was walking around rubbing his arms, she wouldn’t have been able to tell.
Okay, so, maybe she could make out the faint outline of his muscles in that fancy designer t-shirt of his. The one with the logo, the one that clung to him and showed off his lean build. They weren’t huge, his biceps, but they were definitely toned, she could see, because he wore the type of t-shirt that made it impossiblenotto see. She looked away and swallowed. The guy could be a jerk, even if he’d been thoughtful enough to buy her something to eat.
She would have to watch what she said now because he hadn’t liked the comparison she’d made to Tobias. What she had so far seen of Tobias made her see him in a different light. Tobias was a good guy, decent, honorable, and he treated women with respect.
But Xavier?
He was like the frat boys at college—only older. Too old to go to college. If Tobias had just turned 30, she estimated that his brother was probably a few years younger. Cara had said he was around 27 or 28.
There were plenty of guys like that at college. Rich ones, who wore designer clothes, albeit grungy designer clothes, ripped jeans, and vintage jackets then paid ridiculous amounts for it. She and Cara got their clothes from thrift shops. Vintage was in, and she was proud of it.
“I’m cold,” said Jacob. Can we get some hot chocolate, please?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her.
“Hot chocolate?” She saw the kiosks in the distance. Central Park kiosks charged jacked up tourist prices. Savannah had told her to make a note of all her expenses when she was out with Jacob, and ordinarily this wouldn’t have been a problem, but today she only had a few dollars on her.
Yet it wasn’t often that Jacob asked for anything.
“Sure. Uh—” She looked over her shoulder. Xavier was on his cell phone and, with a pinch of anger, she wondered why he had come along with them. He should have left after lunch. Why had he insisted on coming to the park in order to spend time with Jacob, when clearly he wasn’t spending any time at all with him?
“Shall we go get some now?” She had just enough to buy Jacob something. “And then maybe we should go home afterwards?” She hoped he would agree.
“Okay.”
She headed for the kiosks, when Jacob, scooting beside her, asked. “What about Xavier?”
“He looks busy,” she said, breezily. “He’ll know to follow us.”
When they reached the kiosks, she saw that she could only afford a $5 hot chocolate, and hoped Jacob wouldn’t ask for anything else.
“Aren’t you having any?” Jacob asked, when she paid for it with the last of her cash.
“No.” She was on a tight budget, always, and tried to pay with cash as often as she could.
