Fuuuck. Suddenly, that bong doesn’t look so bad.
“This chili,” the bartender continues, “was once considered the hottest chili in the world. It has a heat rating of up to 350,000 SHU’s.”
I glare at the wheel. How did I manage to get the one non-boozy task on the damn thing? The other items would’ve been a breeze. Hell, a regular Saturday night with the guys. But no, I had to get the chili.
I’ve never been a huge fan of spicy food. What’s the point of eating something so hot it scorches your tastebuds? Talk about unhinged.
The bartender passes me the pepper. It’s probably only three inches long, but I don’t have the first clue how I’m going to get it down. There’s no way I can stuff the whole thing in my mouth. I’d probably go up in flames, which means I’ll have to take it in bites.
Tink nudges me. “Ready to throw in the towel?” She smiles wickedly. “Just say the word. I’ll happily accept your withdrawal.”
I’ll bet she would, but two can play at this game, and I’m not about to go down without a fight. I call her bluff.
“Not gonna happen, darlin’.” I lower my mouth to her ear, ensuring she doesn’t miss a word. “I saw your face when the bong came out. You’re a good girl. There’s no way you’re going to put that cock in your mouth. Not with all these people watching.”
She stiffens, and I push the advantage, feeling like an asshole despite the fact that her friends have spent the entire competition chirping.
“I know it. You know it.” I pause, turning to her friends. “They know it. This competition is over.”
Her jaw hardens, but she doesn’t break eye contact. It’s the hottest thing I’ve seen all day. “You’re wrong. I don’t have it in me to quit.”
“Neither do I.”
From the first time I strapped on a pair of skates, I haven’t backed down. Not when facing guys who were bigger, meaner, or faster. I’m not about to start now.
She tilts her head, and there’s a spark of something—defiance, maybe?—in her eyes. “If you’re so certain, why don’t we bet on it?”
She wants to bet? Against me? That’s a first.
Curiosity takes root, and before I know it, the words are out of my mouth. “What did you have in mind?”
7
AVA
What doI have in mind?I didn’t exactly think this through. The idea of the bet popped into my head, and the next thing I knew, I was speaking it into existence.
Which I never would have done without liquid courage.
That’ll teach you to do shots.
Probably, but it won’t help my current predicament.
I stare up at Flamingo Boy, channeling my inner Lexie. If she were in my position, what would she do?
The answer strikes me like a bolt of lightning, and it’s so obvious, I can’t help but laugh.
“If I win, you get a tattoo of my choosing.” His eyebrows snap together, and I hold up my palm to stave off his protest. “If you win—which you won’t—I’ll get the tattoo of your choosing.”
My stomach clenches. This is the most outrageous thing I’ve ever done. The potential for it to backfire is…a lot. What if I lose and he makes me get something hideous?
“Holy shit. You’re serious?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I am.”
As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have any ink. Neither do I.
I’ve always been curious about body art, but I’ve never had the courage to actually get a tattoo.
