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“What’s wrong?” he asks, a mix of frustration and confusion on his face.
“I don’t want to get caught,” I tell him plainly, “and contrary to what people think, I’m not a slut.” I hold my breath, wondering if Bryce ever talks about other topics besides money.
Wyatt runs his hand over his head but takes a step back, giving me space.
“I’m not a tease,” I tell him.
“I didn’t think that,” he snaps and then changes his tone, “I got carried away. That’s all.”
I stub out the cigarette and start walking away. His footsteps crunch on the gravel behind me. I turn around and keep walking backward.
“My car is over there,” he says, pointing, “You can ride with me back to school.”
I must look surprised because Wyatt laughs. “I’m not going to make you put out for a ride in my car.”
“Good, because I don’t put out for that.” I walk beside him. “And you have to beat up more than one man to get into my pants.”
Wyatt doesn’t try anything on the ride home, and slumping in the passenger seat, I’m relieved. It was the adrenaline that made us paw each other. Maybe I wanted to. But he saw me alone with Justin, and I was feeling guilty about Bryce. I moan, thinking about what he must be doing with my panties.
“You all right?” Wyatt asks, riding past the expensive homes lit up with spotlights.
“Yeah, just thinking about school.”
Wyatt’s car isn’t as flashy as Bryce’s, but it’s a vintage Dodge Viper. That’s hot shit. This car hasn’t been produced in decades. I watch Wyatt as he drives, and he could fit in anywhere. I wouldn’t mind if people thought we were dating, but I don’t like people thinking I’m with Bryce. No one will ever believe Bryce is dating me because he sees something deep inside under my rough exterior, my potty mouth, and my zero trust fund.
Wyatt keeps his eyes on the road as he rests his elbow on the open window. But Wyatt knows I’m watching him by how his whole body is alert and ready to react. I can’t talk to Bryce, but maybe I can talk to Wyatt.
I sit up. “Can I ask you something?”
He tilts his head quickly in a nod.
“It’s about the Investors Club. I’m not sure if I’m in or not.”
Wyatt’s jaw tics, and then he presses his lips together. He concentrates on the road and won’t dare look at me. “I would consider helping you if you do something for me,” he replies.
Fuck. I sigh in disappointment. I thought we had an understanding back there. “I’m not ready to have sex. I got carried away. I’m sorry.” I fold my arms.
His grin shifts into laughter—a little too hard. “Sex with me would be your reward.”
I scowl, then suck my teeth. “You aren’t that special. You’re good, but I’m sure I’m better.”
We laugh, kidding about stuff that would make other people feel ill at ease. When you win in the Pit, you get additional prizes. It’s not unusual to walk into the changing room and see the triumphant guy getting a blow job or more while leaning against the lockers. And girls who win have their pick too. Wyatt hasn’t approached any girl who’s offered. Sex doesn’t make him uptight. He knows he can get it when he wants it.
I lean back in the seat and relax, wishing the ride back was a little longer. “What do you want me to do?”
And he stares straight ahead. “I’m going to pick the next girl you fight.”
That kills the mood. Bryce must not talk to Wyatt, or he’d know that Bryce and I have a deal. But that’s not my problem. I hope they never speak.
“Okay, just let me know when.”
