The Bet

I could barely focus as I tried to concentrate and study.

Rose still hadn't responded to any of my messages. And quite frankly, I was really starting to get worried.

I mean I had been worried before but I was reaching a whole new level.

So I had told her Raymond was a bad idea, I mean why was I the villain for that?

The truth is that he was. It was Raymond for goodness sake! The longest relationship he was in lasted three months.

The same Raymond who once dated two girl in the same sorority at the same time!

That Raymond!

Why wouldn't I want to protect my sister from that?

I shut my book in frustration. I really wasn't going to get any work done at this rate.

Maybe a nap would help... I blinked away the thought of that. Because quite frankly, everytime I closed my eyes, my mind went back to being in Nolan's vicinity, feeling his soft lips on mine and how my stomach had turned in knots, how it felt like every single nerve ending in me had lit up.

How I wanted to kiss him over and over again.

I tapped my cheek with my hand.

Stop it Savannah! This was Nolan we were talking about.

I mean the same Nolan I had a huge crush on since I was eight. But none the less, the same Nolan who would probably always see me as Raymond's nerdy little sister.

To think that kiss could have ever meant anything more to him was a joke.

I huffed deciding whipping something up in the kitchen might be a better distraction.

I pulled on an oversized hoodie I had stolen from Raymond two years ago and trudged downstairs to the kitchen.

Before I even stepped down the last step, I heard a soft tune drift off towards me.

I went over to the living room where the sound was coming from and found Trace seated on the couch. He was barefoot and wearing sweatpants and a faded band tee. His dark hair was styled in that fashionable messy way it always seemed to be in. And he had his guitar across his lap.

He wasn’t playing a song. Not really. Just strumming. Soft, absentminded chords that didn't seem like they had found a place to be. His eyes were closed in concentration.

For a second I just watched him from the doorway feeling like I was interrupting something.

So far Trace had been with us for three days. And I had to admit, he was a step up from Nolan and Raymond.

He took out the trash without being asked and threw out empty cartons of milk from the refridgerator. He didn't bring in random girls all the time.

Heck, he even watered the one plant in the apartment that the guys hadn't let die. I had to admit, I was impressed.

I was about to turn around and give him his privacy but just the slightest movement of my foot made the floorboard creek.

Trace startled and turned towards me. His face relaxed and a smile grew when he saw me.

"Oh hey land lady!" He called jumping to his feet.

I couldn't help but be caught off guard by his accent.

There was just something so... attractive about it.

I suddenly became all too aware of my bare legs and my hair in a messy bun.

"So not your landlady." I muttered as I tugged on the hoodie's sleeves and walked over to the kitchen.

"Right. More like land dictator." He spoke hot on my heels.

I spun around and narrowed my eyes at him. "Not that either."

He gave an easy smile and lay his guitar on the kitchen island counter like it was something fragile.

I grabbed a carton of milk from the refridgerator and slammed it on the counter.

"You know, for someone who called me prejudiced the first day we met, you seem to do a whole lot of judging yourself."

He hoisted himself up on the kitchen island and leaned over to me.

"I just make observations, love." He spoke casually. "And my observation is that you, my dear are extremely high strung."

I clenched my hands into fists. I take back every good thing I ever said about him.

He was so annoying especially with that accent of his.

"I am not high strung! And could you please get your butt off the place we put our food!"

He smirked at me giving me an 'I told you so' look.

I rolled my eyes. "That proves nothing. I am not high strung."

He slid off the counter and looked at me. "Okay, poppet, let's prove it. Let's make a bet."

I rose my brows at him in disbelief. "A bet? Yeah, I don't think so."

"What's wrong? Scared?"

"No." I spoke defensively. "I just don't know you. No way I'm making a bet with someone I don't know."

"Sounds high strung to me." He sang.

This guy was so irritating. I clenched my hands into fists and turned around huffing. Unfortunately for me, I had always been super competitive. Maybe it was growing up with an annoying twin brother. But I never backed down from a challenge. "Okay. What is it?"

He seemed satisfied and folded his arms over his chest. "I want you to not be such a buzz kill for a whole month."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

He took a step closer and tugged at my blonde hair. "I mean, love, for an entire month... all I want to hear from you is... yes."