Release Date: January 27, 2020
Cover Design: Story Styling Cover Designs
TarynLosing a long term boyfriend to my football career highlights one thing: it’s impossible for me to have both. With only a few years left to play, I decide to throw my full focus into the game. Then I meet Elliot. The flirty texts are immediate, trusting him comes easily, and when we’re together, I’ve never experienced something so explosive.
Until he drops a real bomb on me. He’s a bookie. And suddenly, being closeted is the least of my worries.
I have a plan. Make a large amount of money in a short amount of time, set myself up for life, and then get the hell out of bookmaking. Good at it or not, it’s illegal, and that’s a very gray line I’d prefer not to keep crossing. Especially when I meet Taryn. He’s the first guy who’s been able to steal my focus away from my goal, and I’ll do anything to deserve him.
But the thing about illegal jobs is, they’re not always so easy to walk away from.
When we finally head out and say goodbye, I drive back home musing over whether I’m going to do it. Zane’s right though, a message isn’t going to hurt. A message just opens the door, let’s Elliot know I’m up for a repeat. It’s been a few days, and he obviously hasn’t said anything to anyone because there have been no articles about Taryn Adderson liking dick.
A message won’t hurt. And if he tells me to fuck off, I’ll have my answer.
I get home and change into sleep shorts, prolonging the time to make my decision in case I change my mind.
I don’t. And as I drop onto my couch, the sun barely a line of orange hanging onto the horizon, I pull out my phone and open up his contact. Staring at the screen, I’m suddenly blank on what to write. I’m tempted to go with a basic “hey” or a “what are you doing,” but get the sense it needs to be more than that.
I’m nervous, really fucking nervous, and I’m actually enjoying it. This weird high that comes from not knowing what’s next, and hoping so damn much that more is the answer.
I lick my lips and type out a message.
Me: Why did the football coach go to the bank?
It’s a lame joke, a pathetic attempt to reach out, but my stomach squirms as I stare at the screen, and when those three little dots appear, I’m barely holding it together. Just please don’t let him tell me to fuck off.
A Friend: To get his quarter back.
I snort, surprised he knows the answer. And if he’s playing along, that has to be a good sign, right?
Me: Why didn’t the skeleton play football?
A Friend: His heart wasn’t in it.
Me: What’s it called when a dinosaur gets a touchdown?
A Friend: A dino-score.
I laugh, surprised he’s gotten them all. I’ve heard all the lame jokes I need to from my sister, but Elliot knowing them too is a surprise.
Me: Wow, you’re good at this.
A Friend: My superior intellect makes even the most complex jokes easy.
I’m about to reply when another message comes through.
A Friend: Also I have Google, dumbass.
I laugh, realizing I never thought he would do something that sneaky.
Me: That’s cheating. You’ll have to pay for that.
A Friend: Oh yeah? Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.
Me: Oh, I could keep them. But you’re the one who bowed out, you clearly can’t handle me.
And okay, now I’m goading him, and maybe I should feel bad, but he started flirting first. I’m only too happy to leverage what I can from the conversation.
A Friend: You know why.
Me: Kinda. Still seems like my career is my choice, though. And after thinking it over, I don’t think I’m ready to give you up yet.
A Friend: What am I, a pet?
Me: Now you’re just giving me ideas.
A Friend: Mr. Vanilla has suddenly decided he’s kinky, has he?
Me: Sex with me is good enough that you don’t need extra flavor.
A Friend: Now there’s a pick up line. All you have to ask now is, “want a taste?”
Me: Want a taste?
I feel dumb as soon as I send it, having no idea what the hell he’s going to write back. Things feel like they’re going okay, so maybe I just need to be optimistic.
A Friend: I already got a sample. A real taste might make me addicted.
Oh, he got more than a sample, alright. I think back to how he swallowed my cum then licked every part of me clean. Enough screwing around.
Me: I want to see you again.
A Friend: You know that’s a stupid idea.
Me: Actually, I’m pretty sure we’re overthinking it. No one knows who you are, no one knows I like guys, and literally no one is interested in me catching up with a friend.
There’s a short pause.
A Friend: How long did it take you to come up with all that?
Me: Just this afternoon. So what do you think?
A Friend: I think I need to think about it.
Me: Well, that was a mouthful.
A Friend: So are you ;)
I crack up laughing. It’s weird, this flirting thing. Elliot’s a complete unknown. It’s exciting.
And until he thinks about whether we can see each other again, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get a chance to forget me.
One of Five ARC's for Bet on Me
About the Author
Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.
While not writing, SM is a readaholic and netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.
Member of SCBWI.
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