Chapter 14.01

The week started off calmly. Exams were approaching, but I wasn’t behind on anything.

“Hey, Jay,” Dave said before class. “I saw you yesterday.”

“Where?” I asked.

“I know you’re cheating on your girlfriend,” he whispered.

“What?” I tried to figure out what he was talking about.

“I saw you at the movies with Miss Wenword, and don’t tell me you’re just friends,” Dave said accusingly. “It was obvious you two were involved—you couldn’t keep your lips off her.”

“Well, Dave,” I laughed, “that’s true.”

“You just moved in with your girlfriend. That’s not exactly fair to her,” he said reproachfully.

“Dave,” I lowered my voice, “she is my girlfriend.” I emphasized the ‘she’.

“Since when?” I smiled at his shocked expression.

“More than half a year,” I said—just enough for him to know. “But we’ve known each other from previous years. We don’t make a big deal out of it—precisely because of who she is.”

“Now I understand why the old man keeps pestering you every week,” he grinned.

“Yeah, it’s not easy for me,” I laughed. “But don’t go telling your roommates or anyone else. Got it?” I asked pointedly.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“It was obvious yesterday how much you’re into her,” he laughed.

“She’s incredible,” I said, grinning.

In the afternoon, I had a date with Jenny at her usual spot in the park. By the time I arrived, she was quietly reading.

“Hey, little girl, are you free tonight?” I sat down beside her.

“Well, that depends,” she smiled.

“On what?”

“On what my boyfriend has planned,” she said, immediately catching on.

“How about this?” I asked, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “What’s up with your little admirer?”

“He brought me flowers to class this morning,” she said quietly, watching my face.

“Where did you put them?” I was calm for now.

“I gave them to a girl who actually likes him, saying they ended up with me by accident. She was really happy,” Jenny smiled. “And since she struggles with Fabio’s language, I helped set them up for dinner tonight. He didn’t say no—because, you know, ego is important to you guys.”

“Hopefully, that means he won’t bother you anymore,” I said.

“I don’t think he will,” she smiled. “The girl is exactly the type your old self would have loved.”

“My old self?” I asked, pretending to be offended.

“Yes, the one whose ego was everything,” she teased.

“What makes you think I’ve changed?” I asked.

“I didn’t say you’ve changed—just that your ego is dormant right now,” she laughed.

“Little girl, you know you’re in trouble for that, right?” I chuckled. She just nodded.

We went home for dinner, ate, and settled in to watch a movie that we had started a couple of times but never finished. Both of us kept our distance, wrapped in a silent pact—determined to win the bet.

—

Over the next few days, Jenny made it her mission to torment me—in the best and worst ways. Every evening, she wore something new: silk, lace, sheer little things I wouldn’t normally let her keep on for more than thirty seconds. But a bet was a bet.

She stuck to the rules just as firmly as I did. Aside from the usual greeting kiss, she never gave in—no wandering hands, no lingering touches. And she matched my restraint, which made it all the more unbearable. If I went for a shower, she’d be in the tub at the same time, humming softly, not-so-innocently luring my attention back to her. Every moment became a quiet battle of willpower.

By Thursday, I was unraveling. Studying was pointless—I couldn’t think of anything but her. The feel of her mouth on mine, her legs brushing against me under the table, her laugh when she caught me staring.

That afternoon, I got home from swimming and found her in a tracksuit, casually stirring dinner with music playing low from the speakers. The lingerie was gone—for now—but suspicion brewed fast.

“Babe,” I said, brushing a kiss across her cheek, “something wrong?”

“Nope.” She didn’t even look at me. “We’re going home for the weekend tomorrow, so there’s no point in pushing the bet. We’ll continue next week.”

I eyed her warily. “I see.”

I dropped onto the couch, trying to focus on the screen, but the shift in music—now slow and sultry—made it impossible. A few minutes later, she stepped into view, hips swaying gently to the rhythm. Her eyes locked on mine, mischief dancing in them.

“You’re not going to dance, are you?” I asked, my voice tighter than I meant.

“You said I owed you one,” she said with a wicked little smile, and started moving.