Bet in the Dark Page 5
“Why do you owe Grayson?” I asked before I could stop myself. Not many people owed Grayson. Grayson was the kind of guy that collected on all of his debts.
“That’s between him and me. Besides, it’s not the kind of debt that you owe me. This is something less…. tangible. So is that what you would like to do? Are you going to talk to your brother? Or are you going to see this through with me.” His eyes were darker than they ever had been; black pools of intensity.
I swallowed against the nervous lump rising in my throat. I hated his options. Hated them. I couldn’t go to Grayson; that was absolutely out of the question. I was doing my best to avoid my family’s protection, I was definitely not going to go run and crawl under it the minute I faced any kind of trouble. Besides, for some reason going to Grayson felt like I was admitting to this being my fault. And even though staying with Fin and working for him felt exactly like admitting this was my fault, it was all of a sudden the better, nobler option.
Which was stupid.
So stupid.
“Fine,” I grumbled, already regretting my decision.
“Fine, what, Ellie?” Fin asked quietly.
“Fine, I’ll help you. Fine, even though this isn’t my debt, and I don’t owe this money and I probably will never be able to come up with it in six weeks, fine I’ll see what I can do.” I crossed my arms and looked down at my shoes. I kicked my toe against the wheel of Fin’s chair. I knew I was pouting, but I couldn’t help myself. He used my own arguments against me.
“You’ll come up with the money, Ellie,” he said gently but authoritatively.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” I sighed and dared to meet his eyes again.
“I don’t have hopes, I have desperation and I need that money, so you will find a way to get it to me.” His voice was a low growl that sent the hairs on my arms standing at attention.
“What-“
“I’m not going to tell you what I need it for, so don’t bother asking.” Suddenly he was very terse, completely and emotionally cut off. He reminded me of the guy that first came to my apartment; the guy I easily assumed was a hit man for the mob.
Cold, aggressive and dangerous.
“I’m not helping you do something illegal,” I braved my last bit of integrity.
“Too late, Ellie. You agreed to do it my way, that was the only time you will ever be given a choice from here on out. Now let’s get to work.”
He turned back to the computers, his long fingers gliding easily over the keys. With a few clicks of the mouse and pecks at the keyboard we were on the backside of an intensely complicated online poker website.
Fin was absolutely focused now, in the zone and explaining everything in a clinical, slightly annoyed way. I turned my attention to the screen, to the task at hand. I filed all of the information away, determined to do well at this, even if I didn’t understand everything that was happening in front of me.
I had to do it that way. I didn’t have a choice. Because if for even a sEcond I thought about the consequences of helping Fin with his illegal game or whatever illegal activity he needed all that money for, I would succumb to the panic attack I was just barely holding at bay.
And one panic attack in front of Fin Hunter was enough for a life time.
Chapter Four
“Hungry?” Fin asked after two hours of what he called “orientation” and what I called a giant waste of time. I didn’t understand what he did online at all. Not the gambling, not the business side of it and especially not the programming part of his website.
“Why?” I asked suspiciously. “How long do you want me tonight?”
There was a charged pause between us while I stared at my computer refusing to look at him. He was a senior in college; there was no way he was going to take the easy and juvenile joke here.
“All night,” Fin finally answered in my ear, low and growly. “Girl, I want you all night.”
I swung out and punched him in the shoulder. He laughed at my response but didn’t scoot back any. “But then we wouldn’t get any work done and your ten hours of my time would be up for the week,” I reminded him trying to stay as calm and casual as I could. Although that wasn’t exactly easy and it had nothing to do with his joke and everything to do with how close he was sitting next to me right now.
“Ellie, I promise you, if you spent the night with me, I wouldn’t have to bargain for your time, you’d come back willingly. Over and over and over,” his voice was husky now and so full of innuendo I felt my face heat to a fast blush.
I finally lifted my eyes to meet his and while his mouth was tilted in a playful smile his dark eyes were heated and not at all playful. A tingle rolled over my skin, every inch of me while my brain tried to convince my body that he was just messing with me.
“So all boys are perverts then?” I asked dryly. “You never grow out of that?”
His eyes relaxed and he leaned back in his chair, his lips twitching. “You tell me, you’re the one that grew up with three brothers.”
“Yeah, but they weren’t perverted around me!” I squeaked. Although that wasn’t entirely true, it had gotten better now that we were all older.
That got another bark of laughter out of him. “Ok, so dinner, yeah? We both need to eat.”
“You’re not going to make me pay for it are you?”
He smiled down at me but didn’t answer my question, which made me nervous. I mean, I was just joking. But seriously, I was just joking. I couldn’t afford dinner. If I had to pay for it, we’d be eating from my stash of Ramen Noodles. And the muscles, defined and rippling all over his body, told me a sodium filled package of dried noodles wouldn’t be nearly enough nourishment for him.
“Food allergies?” Fin asked from where he stood at the gray slate kitchen counter, multiple take-out menus spread out in front of him.
I kind of hated how cool his apartment was.
But his question seemed really considerate. “Um, no. But I, even though it’s not exactly a food allergy, I really, really hate mushrooms,” I confessed. Ugh, he made me so nervous and we were only talking about mushrooms.
“Noted,” he said on a smirk. “Extra mushrooms.”
I wanted to convince myself that he was just kidding, that he wouldn’t really order extra mushrooms. Plus, it was a lame joke, right? I mean what was with him and taking every obvious avenue? But….
“No, I said, no-“
“I heard you Ellie,” he grinned over at me like he just won some kind of contest. His whole face transformed with that look, he went from unattainably handsome to something more boyish, more playful. I realized that this expression was infinitely more dangerous than all of the other ones; this look was going to get me the most into trouble. “I was just kidding.”
“I had no idea you were such a comedian,” I rolled my eyes. But seriously, who knew the great Fin Hunter liked to make lame jokes? Everything I had ever heard about him centered around his illegal activities, his super human speed or his gorgeous body. Nobody ever talked about his sense of humor.
Also I had to stop referring to him as Fin Hunter in my head. He was not a celebrity.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, Ellie,” he said on a soft mumble.
I cleared my throat, hating how my girl-brain went straight to planning our wedding at the sound of future promise in his voice. I was an idiot. “So what’s for dinner?”
“Pizza?” he asked like he was giving me a choice.
“Sure,” I squeaked, trying to ignore the way my mouth watered. “Sounds good.”
Pizza? As in a real meal! I stayed my enthusiasm until I heard him give his order and credit card number over the phone and then I bounced up and down in my seat like I just won the lottery. Hooray, a real meal!
I would just ignore the sinking thought that I was really selling my soul for pizza. Well, pizza and a debt of seven thousand dollars.
Plus, just because I was eating his pizza, did not by any means, make
me friends, colleagues, associates or anything else with Fin Hunter.
With Fin.
Just Fin.
“Why do you look so happy?”
I snapped my head his direction and mashed my lips together to hide my smile. He was staring at me with narrowed eyes again, as if studying the whole of me; not just my outward appearance, not even my mood, he was studying all of me, every part, hidden and exposed.
His gaze was unnerving and the intelligence behind it was completely unexpected. Not that I wasn’t used to smart jocks, all three of my brothers were incredible athletes and super smart. Still, it was honestly unexpected from Fin.
“I just really love pizza,” I admitted when his gaze did not soften or lessen in intensity.
“But you’re so thin,” he observed and I hated that his words felt like an insult.
“Um, thanks?” I shook my head trying to play off the disappointment I felt, but he tilted his head as if I should explain my size to him. Did he interrogate all girls like this? It would explain why he didn’t have a girlfriend.
I didn’t even want to examine why I knew he didn’t have a girlfriend.
“I don’t get to eat it very often,” I explained. “It’s kind of a special treat for me.”
A light bulb must have gone off in his head because suddenly his expression turned smug and knowing. “Oh you’re one of those girls.”
I popped up from my seat, arms crossed, ready for battle. “One of what girls?” I demanded.
“The kind that never eats, the kind that starves to stay skinny,” he deduced arrogantly.
“You are such a cocky bastard,” I grumbled, plopping back down in my seat. I was livid. Not that his argument was at all founded. I grew up fighting for my meals, learning how to beat all the boys to the dinner table and then fending them off while I assured my own sustenance. But still, just because a girl didn’t eat in front of guys didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. She could be nervous. Or self-conscious. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility she might not be hungry. Gah, boys could be so thick-headed.
“Did you say bastard?” Fin asked on a smothered laugh.
“Shut it.” I turned back to the computer, pretending to do work although he hadn’t told me what to do next so I was pathetically at a standstill.
“Geez, Ellie, you’re so bossy,” he whined while walking across the living room to where I sat. “I had no idea, timid Ellie Harris could be so demanding.” He came to a stop, hovering over me. He was uncomfortably close and then he leaned down to rest his hands on the desk so that I had no choice but to smell him, to breathe in his yummy body wash, or deodorant or whatever it was that smelled so…. yummy.
When I didn’t respond to his jab, he leaned forward on his hands, bring his face even closer to mine. He inhaled deeply and my head whipped around, alarmed at the thought that he was….
“Did you just smell me?”
He gave me a sheepish grin and then took a lock of hair in my hand. “It’s not my fault you belong on a shampoo commercial.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah right.”
“What?” he demanded, rubbing the strands of hair back and forth between his forefinger and thumb as if mesmerized.
I glanced up at his perfect, shiny dark hair and rolled my eyes again.
Seeing that I wasn’t going to get an answer he went back to his original argument. “You have no problem eating in front of me?”
“Trust me, you will be lucky to get any pizza for yourself,” I admitted and then had to bat his hand away when he tugged on the lock of hair he was holding.
“So this is good metabolism?” his fingers left my hair to squeeze my measly bicep between them in a hard pinch. I swatted at him again, but he dodged my weak attempts at self-defense.
“Why are you so concerned with my diet?” I growled.
“You owe me a lot of money. I’m just protecting my interests,” he grinned down at me. And once again I was flooded by him, by every part of him. He was invading my space, attacking my senses and it was completely disorienting.
I let out a groan of irritation to which he chuckled at.
“You’re really not on some weird diet?” he pushed and this time the concern marking his tone pressed against my more sensitive feelings, demanding I open up to him.
Just a little bit.
“I’m on the Ramen Noodle diet, does that count?” I admitted on a mumble.
“The what diet? Why?” he actually sounded appalled. Like he was too good for Ramen Noodles. He was in college, it was like part of a code.
“You know, because I can’t afford anything else? I’m a poor, desolate college student.” I said by way of explanation.
He cocked his head back, like my words made no sense to him whatsoever. He turned away from me, resting his nicely shaped backside against the desk and crossed his arms.
“No you’re not,” he finally announced.
“Excuse me?” I hissed, half from shock, half from embarrassment.
“I know all of three of your brothers, Ellie. And I know two of them fairly well. I‘ve gone to school with Beckett and Grayson for four years and Lennox is somewhat of a legend around here. Beckett is in most of my classes. You’re not poor and you’re not desolate.”
I stood up, angrier at him than I ever had been in our entire twenty-four hour acquaintance. And then I verbally attacked his…. shoes. Just because I was in the process of growing a backbone did not mean I was ready for a full on frontal assault. Much too risky. Besides, what if he looked hurt or shocked by my harsh words? Then I would be forced to feel bad for him. “Don’t act like you know me, because you don’t. Just because you Facebook-stalked me and know who my brothers are does not mean you know me.”
He twisted around so he could stare me down at me while I was compelled to look up at him and met his gaze. I was unsurprisingly unnerved by the intensity of his scrutiny. Why did he have to look at me like he could see through me? All the way through me? I kicked the chair out behind me and decided I would stomp my way to the bathroom and hide out there until the pizza arrived.
Then I would eat the pizza.
Then I would leave.
Very dignified.
“I didn’t say I knew you, Ellie. But your family does have money. I do know that,” His words slowed my progress and I whipped my head around to respond.
“Fin Hunter, I-“
“Just Fin,” he reached for my hand, clasping my fingers between his two much larger, much stronger ones. He tugged on it just a little bit and I stumbled into him. He was ready, opening his legs so that when I righted myself I came to a stop facing him, trapped between his outstretched legs and the solid wall of his chest. “Just Fin, Ellie. Or every time you say my name I’m going to think I’m in trouble.”
He looked up at me from under those dark lashes, and I forgot how to talk for a minute. Like all the way forgot, like my mouth had no idea how to make sound come out of it. This wasn’t fair. He was using all of his charm and wiliness on me and I was left to fumble around confused and…. flustered.
“But usually you are in trouble,” I somehow came up with a witty, if not true response, although I had no idea how any kind of rational thought was getting past his body heat or deeply heated eyes.
“Seems to me like you attract trouble,” he rumbled in his deep voice that seemed to drop an octave with anticipation.
Goosebumps immediately rose all over my skin and I felt myself lean toward him even though I knew he was just messing with me. A chill shivered down my spine and I couldn’t stop myself, I was going to kiss him. Inside my head, I was screaming at myself to stop this madness, to wiggle away from him, but I couldn’t. He had this tractor beam radiating from him, drawing me to him like a moth to the light, or more accurately like a stupid mosquito to a deadly bug zapper.
I was helpless to fight this pull, to struggle against the invisible line he had tied to me. And now in just sEconds I suddenly felt this overwhelming nee
d to taste his lips, an obsession to find out how they would feel against mine. Soft or hard? Insistent and frenzied or slow and sensual? My fingers literally itched with a crazed need to run along his scruffy jawline and my heart was fluttering with anticipation. I had to kiss him or I would die.
Saved by the buzzer. Literally. The screaming, ultra loud buzzer blasted through the silence between us and we both jerked apart. I leapt out of his way, while he stood at the same time. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, tugging at the roots. He stared unseeing at the door for a minute, while I tried to find a large enough something to crawl under and possibly die. I didn’t know if cause of death would ultimately be from stupidity or embarrassment, but I was positive at this point, either one was possible.
If only I could find a space big enough to hide my stupid, betraying body.
I could not believe I was about to kiss him!
What kind of wanton idiot was I all of a sudden?
Maybe Colton did more of a number on me than I originally thought. After all it took me six months before I gave him an opportunity to kiss me. Not that he didn’t try, I just never let myself be open to that. Then again, I wasn’t sure I was super attracted to Colton in the first place. But those were therapeutical musings for another day. Besides, now here I was, not even three weeks out from our breakup and I was the one initiating things with the untouchable Fin Hunter.