The Bet

Chance PoV

He was distracting me, and I was letting him. His sock-covered foot traced my bare legs beneath the table. He batted his eyes cutely, trying to look innocent, but I wasn’t falling for it.

“Mason, we have to study. Remember, you insisted,” I said, though my resolve wasn’t holding at all.

“I am trying to study, but you’re being all sexy with your glasses, messy bun, and shorts. I think you wore those intentionally to distract me, Miss Monroe,” he smirked, pulling my chair closer to him.

I tried not to blush, but it was impossible not to with him looking like… that.

I bit my lip.

“Mason.”

“What?” he asked innocently, but his smirk ruined the act completely. His fingers danced around my bare thighs. I breathed in sharply. It was getting difficult to resist him.

“You are annoying.”

“And yet you love me.”

“Unfortunately,” I groaned.

He laughed, already used to my smart mouth. God, he was a sight to behold. Devilishly handsome and mine. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe it because this was Mason Chester, Ashford’s star quarterback and captain of the football team.

My boyfriend.

Mason had been my best friend forever, long before he became Ashford High’s golden captain. Long before girls started flocking around him. To me, he was still that thirteen-year-old boy who loved climbing trees like a monkey.

Except now, he was no longer a monkey.

And he looked delicious.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark messy hair and that dangerous jawline.

“Now who’s distracted?” he smirked, pulling my legs apart slightly.

“I am studying.”

“You’ve been staring at the same flashcard for five minutes,” he raised an eyebrow, amused.

Heat crept into my cheeks because unfortunately, he was right.

His hand brushed a strand of hair gently behind my ear. My stomach did flip-flops like a horny teenager.

Goddamn, I was a horny teenager.

“Mason,” I almost moaned his name.

“Yes, Chance?” The way he said my name sent chills straight down my spine. Instinctively, I tried closing my legs, but he grabbed my thighs, stopping me.

Then he smashed his lips onto mine, drawing a helpless sound from me. I grabbed onto his hoodie to steady myself as he deepened the kiss slightly.

And suddenly studying became impossible.

“Mason.” Pulling back, I pressed my hand against his chest to create some distance between us. “My mom is downstairs,” I whispered, looking into his lust-filled eyes.

“She likes me.”

“She tolerates you.”

“Same thing.”

I laughed, shoving him lightly, but he pulled me against him again, pouting like a kid who had his candy snatched away.

He was so handsome.

God, I was so in love with him.

Then his phone buzzed.

He groaned, pulling the device from his pocket and staring at it like it personally offended him. I chuckled at his theatrics.

“Shit,” he cursed, standing up. “Mom’s gonna kill me. I promised to pick up the twins from their sleepover.”

“Perfect timing, dude.”

He laughed. “I know, babe.”

He kissed me one last time before grabbing his jacket. “I’ll text you.”

I nodded and watched him leave.

I sighed, looking around my room. My bedroom floor was covered in notebooks, highlighters, and Physics worksheets.

Typical Friday night for Chance Monroe.

Boring old me.

My phone rang, and I immediately knew who it was. The inhumane screeching ringtone gave her away anyway.

“Hey, Chancy!” Selene, my best friend and obvious banshee, screamed into my ears.

“Hello to you too,” I chuckled, already knowing she was buzzed and halfway drunk.

That was the Selene I knew and loved.

Selene had been my friend for years. Alongside Mason, we basically grew up together. She was loud, crazy, and flamboyant. She didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, and I guessed that was why she was popular.

She and Mason became Ashford royalty.

Me?

I just remained me.

“Bestie, I have an idea!”

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” I asked, already knowing where this was headed. She was painfully predictable.

“Let’s go to Avery’s party! It’s gonna be lit. Heard her parents are out of town, so you know it’s about to get crazy,” she slurred.

Yep. Definitely drunk.

“Selene, you are already drunk and still want to party? Also, I have to study. You know this.”

“Firstly, I am not drunk, Chancy. It’s just a little pregame. And secondly, girl please, study what? You’re literally ahead of everyone. Hell, even the teachers. Chance, live a little. You are seventeen, not someone’s accountant,” she argued.

It would’ve been a good comeback if she hadn’t belched halfway through it.

“I can’t.”

“I’m outside your house already.”

Shocked, I looked out my window and sure enough, this crazy girl was standing there barely on her feet, smiling and waving like an idiot.

I shook my head and laughed.

Thirty minutes later, I was standing inside the loudest house party Ashford had probably ever seen.

With regret, obviously.

Drunk, high, and horny teenagers were not my cup of tea.

But Selene was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying herself.

Music blasted against the walls hard enough to shake the floor.

Yeah. Someone was definitely calling the cops.

Avery Sinclair really went all out.

People were everywhere. Sweaty athletes, half-naked cheerleaders dancing on them, and a few freshmen looking nervous and overwhelmed.

Typical high school party.

Selene grabbed my wrist, turning my attention toward her. “See? Isn’t this better than sitting in your room wearing ugly pajamas while color-coding Biology notes?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“You are impossible.”

Maybe.

“And my pajamas are not ugly.”

She laughed, dragging me through the crowd while I secretly searched for the nearest escape route.

We passed the kitchen where the football jocks were playing beer pong. I shook my head at the scene. A few of them were making out with cheerleaders and wannabe models.

Then I saw Mason.

And my entire world stopped.