A Betting Man

Chapter Eighteen

Adelaide's Point of View

In the faint recesses of my dream I hear an alarm. The sound is so far away it seems to be nothing but a whisper, a hushed pleading for me to awake.

I open one eye and, in doing so, it's like my entire body comes to life. I suddenly feel a crick in my neck, an ache in my shoulder, and a very warm body pressed against my back. Two strong arms encircle me, holding me tightly, their crushing grip the only thing keeping me from plunging to the floor as I teeter dangerously on the edge of the small couch. Slow, deep breaths blow hot air against my neck.

I suddenly remember where I am and what has happened. I'm afraid to move, our bodies molded so closely together that my stirring movements are sure to wake him. When did I fall asleep? The last thing I remember was The Facts of Life theme song playing in the background as I basked in the aftermath of Justin's proposal, finally feeling at ease after what proved to be a mentally exhausting day. And his soft lips against mine as he admitted that he liked me. Was he telling the truth?

A part of me hopes so. A big part.

I don't know why I yearn for something more from him. In the end, he still made the bet on me. It's such a terrible thing to do, something that seems against his character, but do I really know him? Or is it all just an act? Is everything he's telling me a lie?

I can't be sure, though one thing is certain:  he remains dishonest. Why won't he admit to the bet? I haven't outed him yet, but it seems as though it would make things easier if he just admitted to it all himself.

Again, I ponder at the terms of the bet. Money seems like too much of a trivial thing. Besides, Justin seems to have plenty. But what else could it be? Does Nolan have some dirt on Justin? Could he be blackmailing Justin? But no, Devon said Justin willingly took the bet. If that's the case, it could be a number of things.

Justin sighs behind me, pulling me even tighter against his chest. I love the feeling of being pressed against him, of feeling his heart beating against my back, his breath in my hair. His body is hard and warm and comfortable, his jeans an unpleasant barrier between us.

Then he shifts, and I feel it. It. Against my back, digging right into the crack of my ass, a mere two inches shy of the danger zone. Holy mother of Jesus, someone save me now. What do I do? Wake him? Move away? If I scoot over any further I'll tumble off the couch.

I can feel my face heating, the warmth spreading all the way to my chest, as I debate every available option. Thankfully, Justin puts me out of my misery moments later by loosening his hold and stirring, his thingy pointing in a much safer direction.

"Mmm... Addie?" he mumbles. His arm unwraps itself from my body and he rubs his face sleepily.

"Yeah?" I croak. My voice is thick with sleep.

"What are you--" He sits up a little, nearly catapulting me off the couch, but he quickly grabs a hold of me again before I fall. "What time is it?"

My alarm has finally stopped, giving up, but I know what time it's set to go off each morning. "About six-thirty."

"Oh." He relaxes back against the couch, simultaneously pulling me against him.

"I have to get up, though," I reluctantly admit. Now that his little... distraction... is no longer poking me in the rear, I can relax and simply enjoy this rare feeling of comfort.

"What time do you work?" he mumbles against my neck. I can feel his lips grazing the skin, his breath heating me throughout, and I get chill bumps all over.

"Eight," I breathe.

"Five more minutes." He nuzzles into my neck and that amount of time sounds painfully short.