Tough Love - Chris Sturniolo

Game On

Anastasia

It'd been a week since my first game, and I still couldn't get over the fact that he'd come to watch, made me a sign and painted my number on his face. It was incredibly sweet, and if it did anything in his favour, it showed me he really was true to his word. Chris may have said stupid things on a regular basis, but if he said something, he meant it, and for that I was grateful.

But I was still not on board with my body (and mind's) attraction to Chris. He'd fucked up with me that night and I continued to fight myself and the desire to give him another shot on the daily.

I knew when I headed to the boys apartment for a party that I would see him again, and although I'd wanted to wear a big tshirt and baggy sweats just to repel him, I also knew it wouldn't make a difference and I liked looking good. I dressed cute as hell, like I always did when I wasn't in my workout shit, put on my pink glasses and did my hair half up.

When I got there, I recognized the same music I'd heard that night over pizza, so I knew Chris was playing it. I walked into a house of about 15 or 20 people. Some were drinking, some were out on the porch vaping and enjoying the warm night, others were playing pong and the lights were low. Ella skipped over to me to give me a hug.

"Hey babe," she greeted me, and as we parted, I scanned the room for him out of compulsion. Fucking hell, why am I like this?

I found him sitting on the couch, Matt beside him and another few guys around, the group of them deep in conversation, and I couldn't help admire how incredibly good looking he was. He wore an orange tshirt with a cartoon on it and baggy jeans, and his backwards hat made his hair poke out on either side. His face was serious as he listened, and his profile was perfect. His nose, his lips, his strong jawline, and his eyes hooded. It was a look I didn't see often, because he was always smiling, but holy fuck. I had to stay away from this guy.

Before I could look away, his head turned like he'd felt my eyes on him and met my gaze. His blue eyes sparked and he immediately stood, abandoning his conversation and heading over to me. I turned to Ella to deny him my attention while he approached, but it didn't matter. He was coming.

"Hey Stasia," he greeted, and I turned back.

"Hey Chris," I said, not smiling.

"Shit, you look..." he looked down and back up, meeting my eye. I gave him a look to say, choose your words wisely. "You look nice," he said, obviously having censored his words on account of our bet.

"Sure," I responded, in bitch mode. He laughed at my rejection. I didn't understand how he did that. Like he didn't buy my act for a second, and it didn't phase him in the least.

"Wanna play pong?" he asked. The game at the table was just ending. "You and Ella versus me and Matt," he suggested.

"No I don't think that's a good idea," I said, shooting him down.

"What's not a good idea?" Ella interrupted. She'd been distracted on her phone.

"Me and Matt versus you and Stasia in pong," he clarified. "She's scared to lose, obviously," he egged me on. He knew I'd hate that.

"Not falling for it," I said in a bored tone.

"Come on, I wanna play!" Ella said, going to get Matt.

"Wow, you must really suck if you don't wanna play this badly," he continued.

"I don't wanna embarrass you in front of your friends," I challenged with a fake smile and he laughed. His wide smile stunned me for a moment, fuck he was so pretty.

"No chance, you're not beating me," he came back with. I looked around to hide the look in my eye that would show him my need to prove him completely fucking wrong. "I'll make you a bet," he added. My eyes flicked to his, and I cursed myself for what I was about to say.

"What's your wager?" I asked, looking at him like I was about to eat him alive. He saw my desire to win this challenge and I saw his eyes hood with that look of an animal of prey. It sparked me from the inside out, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to hear his terms. Something deep inside us matched and I knew it, I just didn't want to accept it.

"If I win, you give me another chance," he proposed. I'd already suspected something like that.

"I can't agree to that," I countered.

"Sure you can," reaching out to take my purse from my shoulder and putting it on a chair. His fingers brushed my bare shoulder and it momentarily had all my attention before I refocused.

"What does 'giving you another chance' include?" I asked to clarify what he was envisioning.

"You go out with me, let me show you I'm not the piece of shit you think I am," he said in a genuine tone. "I know some part of you knows I'm not," he added. "And I'll still stick to the terms of the first bet, no shameless flirting," he offered, picking up a ping pong ball. I approached the table and leaned against it, thinking of my own terms.

"I mean it doesn't matter what I agree to because I'm gunna win, so sure," I agreed. "As for my terms," I continued, "no more coming to my games." Part of me didn't want that, but I wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"What if Ella invites me to come?"

"Still no," I shot down.

"What if you explicitly invite me?" He asked, sorting out the details. I laughed lightly.

"Sure, if I explicitly invite you," I agreed. He held out his hand, and when I reached out to shake it, he held on longer than you usually would and looked me in the eye. I saw his desire to win, not for the bragging rights, but because he really did want to get back on my good side. He knew there was something here, and he wasn't going to let it go. His relentlessness pissed me off as much as it intrigued me. I looked at him back and tried to say what my mouth couldn't. Good luck.