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By the time I’m through with him, he will be jobless, and have provided enough money to put Aria through medical school.
    Why Wesley, you might ask?
    Simple. He was part of the PITCREW. Part of the plan. Part of the bet.
    And now, he is another one to be crossed off my list.
     
    Throwing the money in the passenger seat, I pick up my cell phone, seeing two missed calls from the police department and a text from Casen.
    Interesting.
    Casen: Dinner tonight?
    I laugh at his eagerness. If only he would have claimed me before the bet. Maybe we could have worked out.
    Me: Less than twenty-four hours should be a record. Aren’t guys supposed to wait three days?
    I put the phone down, looking at my old house one last time before starting the engine. My phone chimes.
    Casen: I know what I want. Send me your address. I’ll pick you up at eight.
    Leaving the parking lot, I decide to leave him hanging for a little while. When I get home, I respond.
    Me: Here’s my address. Make it SEVEN.

 

    At 6:59 P.M. the doorbell rings. I watch my eyes roll at Casen’s promptness in the reflection of the mirror next to my door as I finish applying my fire engine red lipstick. Rolling it around, I ensure every inch of my lips are covered. I take my time, making him wait, and finish up before finally opening the door at exactly seven P.M.
    My steady nerves falter.
    I wasn’t prepared.
    My eyes trail up his body. His feet, donning the same boots he was wearing at Jedi’s last night; one shoe lace looser than the other. His dark-washed jeans, looking as though he ironed them just for the occasion, are straining to hold his large bulge beneath the zipper. Lifting my gaze, I find his chiseled chest suffocating in the long sleeved, navy blue button up shirt. The sleeves are rolled up just below his elbows which are currently leaning into the door frame.
    When my eyes meet his, he is giving my tight, black dress the same once over I just subjected his body to. I watch his tongue slide over his lips, and my heart immediately starts to race faster than it did in the bar. I have to take a few calming breaths before I can speak, but he beats me to it. “Embyr,” he calls my name, danger laced in his tenor, as his arms fall to his side. “You look fucking delectable.”
    My skin prickles, making my nipples harden. The tightness of them brings me back to the here and now. I can’t let him have this effect on me . I reach over and snatch my purse off of the end table, ready to leave, not giving him the opportunity to come inside.
    He smirks, stepping aside, and looking into my apartment. “Moving?”
    I turn around, finding Trinity’s boxes everywhere. “No. My roommate is.”
    “The girl you were with last week?”
    I nod and he allows me to pass but not hesitating to place his hand on the small of my back. Walking with newfound purpose towards the elevator, I ignore the burning his touch is giving me. He says nothing else as the metal doors open and we step in. I take my place in the back corner, leaning on the rail, and watch him press the first floor button before he spins around to face me. “If it’s ok with you,” he starts. “I want to take you somewhere kind of special to me.”
    I smile. “That sounds great.”
    He just nods, taking his own corner of the confined space, seemingly losing all of his previous confidence. Silence surrounds us and thoughts swirl around in my mind as I watch him. Here in the florescent lights, he looks the same as he did a decade ago. His high school muscles are amplified ten years and, if I didn’t completely hate him and his friends for what they did to me, I might still have that deep-rooted crush I used to have on him.
    My freshman year—Casen was the one. The one that made me want to go to school every day. I had his name all over the insides of my notebooks. I would watch him walk down the hall with the PITCREW, day dreaming that he would come to my locker and kiss me, making all of my teenage