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Pigtails	By : CeeCee Category: Comics > Archie & Co. Views: 11153 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Archies fandom. This is a work of fanfiction for entertainment only, and I'm not making money from it.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
Summary: Snips and snails, and puppy dog tails. That’s what Mr. Right is made of.
Author’s Note: Thanks for following me on this journey. I had fun writing this story and hearing feedback from so many neat people on it. More to come soon on The Girl Next Door, and I will soon conclude Elective, my Ethel/Moose story.
Warnings: Low-key, not-too-gratuitous smut. I almost didn’t add it. If you were fine with how the last chapter ended, feel free to consider the story finished with that one. It won’t hurt my feelings if you skip this.
*
Betty dropped her backpack on the floor and kicked off her Converse low-tops. She eyed the overstuffed Jansport pack wearily, knowing she had a good three hours of homework ahead of her, but it could wait. She needed to decompress, and to process everything that had happened over the weekend.
She eyed herself in the mirror, leaning against the bureau as she studied herself. “I don’t feel much different,” she mused. She smiled into the mirror and hugged herself, then adjusted the small strip of black and white photo booth shots of her and Reggie that she had tucked into the slat. Their expressions were goofier from one panel to the next, and he kissed her cheek in the fourth, something she blamed for her sappy grin. It gave her the warm fuzzies to remember that day.
She went to the book shelf and pulled out her diary, a battered purple hardcover journal her parents gave her for her sixteenth birthday. It was three-quarters full of her scribbles and thoughts, some girlish, some heated, some humiliated, all candid. She flopped on the bed and propped herself up on a stack of pillows, grabbed her favorite pen, and flipped to the next empty page. There was so much on her mind.
“Dear Diary,” she murmured as she began to jot, “it finally happened. And…” she paused, smiling smugly, “it was AMAZING.”
*
Three days ago:
She was rummaging through her locker after last bell when she felt a pair of hands cover her eyes and a warm body press itself gently against her back. “Guess who?” murmured a yummy baritone, warm breath stirring the hairs at her ear.
“I’m stumped,” she claimed, grinning. “I might need a hint.” He growled against her neck and dropped his hands, coiling his arms around her waist. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, gorgeous.” She leaned into his kiss on her cheek, then turned her face up to his for a proper greeting, humming in pleasure at the taste of his lips.
“What’s up?”
“Date. Tomorrow. You and me.”
“Where?” He released her to let her finish getting her books from her locker, but he settled for resting his chin on her shoulder.
“It’s a surprise,” he allowed, and he had a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Dress sexy.”
“Stop it,” she muttered, lightly slapping him on the chest, and her eyes flitted away for a second. But she smirked up at him and kissed him. “You’re goofy.”
“You’re goofy. I’ll pick you up around two.”
“Sounds good. Where are you going now?”
“I’ve gotta help my dad at the newspaper. I start my internship in a week.”
“Lucky,” Betty told him. “That sounds awesome.”
“Apply for one next year.”
“I signed up for ROP second semester,” she told him. “I can’t wait!” Betty served on the yearbook committee and occasionally wrote for the school paper. The thought of work experience in journalism made her salivate. “So, how was your day?” She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his as she kicked her locker door shut and followed him outside.
“Lonely,” he told her. “Going a little crazy thinking about that little thing you did-“ He smothered a grumble of surprise, words garbled by her hand covering his mouth. Betty’s cheeks immediately flushed pink.
“Don’t talk about it here,” she told him in a heated whisper. “Geez…” He wrestled her hand away but held onto it.
“I’m still thinking about it,” he shrugged. His eyes held a mischievous glint that made her tingle. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.” He was leaning in toward her, elbow propped against the locker adjacent to hers. She stared up at him through her lashes and looked down. He tipped her chin up to make her look at him fully, and she smirked and blushed again. “C’mon, Bets… it’s true. I can’t.”
“I know,” she admitted. “Me either, Reggie. It’s just…”
“I know. I know, I know. I still can’t stop thinking about that, either.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, except… I don’t know if I’m quite there yet. I’m… almost ready, but I’m not, y’know? There’s no turning back. Reg…” He looked away a moment, and disappointment clouded his face. “I want to be with you, but I’m afraid of going all the way because things might be different between us.” He turned back to her at the feel of her soft grip on his arm. “That worries me.”
“Bets,” he insisted, “things might be better. Don’t you trust me?”
“I do,” she flared back. “You know I trust you more than anyone, baby.”
She did it again, completely disarming him with her pet name and those soulful, big blue eyes. Reggie sighed and took her hand, lacing his fingers through it. “It’s hard,” he said softly.
“I know it’s hard to wait, Reggie.”
“No. It’s hard. Like, painfully hard. I’m dyin’, here,” he deadpanned, and he let his knees buckle in goofy fashion, pantomiming someone with an uncomfortable “situation.” His expression was comical. Betty rolled her eyes and giggled. “What, no sympathy?”
“None,” she said cheerfully. She kissed away his wounded look, earning a sigh from him. “You’re cute when you’re desperate.”
“And you’re evil,” he informed her. “Cute, and evil.”
“Flatterer,” she smirked, patting his cheek. She gave him one more quick peck. “Two?”
“Yup.” She pulled back, but he leaned down and stole one more kiss. She chuckled against his lips. “Two.”
“Okay.”
“Something sexy,” he called after her, then he felt himself coloring as he realized half the corridor had heard him. “Shit,” Reggie muttered under his breath as catcalls and whistles greeted him. He knew without seeing her face as she hurried away that Betty was blushing, too.
*
Two days ago:
“Sexy,” Betty muttered as she perused her closet’s offerings. That was stretching it a bit. She hated to fall short of Reggie’s expectations, but she needed something she her parents would actually allow her to wear out of the house. She stood in her tiny red bikini briefs and a shell pink underwire bra, drumming her finger against the closet door. “Hmmm…”
The search began. She unloaded armfuls of garments and laid them out on the bed and gave herself a little fashion show, wondering what would impress Reggie – her official boyfriend. It was such a funny way to think of him, but the thought made her smile deliciously. She’d had a month to get used to it, but it was still a novelty, and it still thrilled her. The clothes on the bed gradually ended up on the discard pile, steadily growing into a big heap. Jeans. A maxi skirt. Peasant blouses. Tee shirt dresses. A demure sleeveless sundress that screamed “safe” and annoyed her. Fitted tees and capris. Betty’s fuzzy glow wore off as she grew more frustrated with her choices. “Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot… ugh.” She tossed aside a pair of leather flip-flops and threw her hands up in the air. “I’ve got nuthin’…”
As if she’d spoken the magic words, her cell rang, and she dove for it over the edge of the bed. “Ooh, yay!” She slid the accept call dot across the tiny screen, chirping a breathless “Hey, Ronnie!”
“What are you up to today?”
“Everything. I’m desperate. You called just in time to save my life.”
“Boy, I sure am nice to you. How am I saving your life?” Ron’s interest was piqued.
“I need to borrow something hot.”
“Only if you can be here in ten minutes. I have a date. Archie’s taking me to Rinaldi’s tonight, and I have a complete overhaul scheduled at the spa.”
“Overhaul?” Betty was intrigued.
“Hot stone massage. Oxygen facial. Mani-pedi. Leg wax. Brow wax…” Ronnie droned on and on before Betty realized she wouldn’t finish soon.
“Sounds great!”
“Daddy said it was my gift for getting a B in algebra two.” Veronica struggled in math, a subject Betty usually had no problem with.
“Mine would have just given me movie tickets.”
“Movie tickets,” Ronnie murmured. “How quaint…”
“Ten minutes?” Betty reminded her.
“Nine and a half and counting.”
*
Reggie couldn't stop sweating.
He finished a long shower and scrubbed himself with liberal amounts of Axe body wash, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the spray to let the water run through his slick runnels of black hair. His heavy sigh echoed back to him off the tiled walls. His brain ran a thousand miles per minute and his stomach was tied up in knots.
He was excited. He was terrified. He felt like he was in the front car of the Triple Dipper roller coaster, arms in the air at the top of the first plunge. Everything he ever wanted, his fondest wish that he barely dared hope for, was within fingertips' reach.
"What if she says no?" He muttered aloud. "God, I hope she doesn't say no." Her signals were strong, seemingly in his favor, but she'd been just as blunt in telling him she needed to slow down. Frustration swamped him. Betty Cooper had him flummoxed and tucked firmly in the palm of her hand. Reggie had never struggled so hard against his instincts before. He couldn't rely on his trusted, reliable formula anymore: Find a pretty girl. Chase her. Flirt with her. Spend a little time and money on her. Tell her she was different from the other girls. Get what he wanted. Give her a velvet handshake and move on to the next one.
Betty did dangerous things to his imagination and his self-control. From the moment he watched her rise out of the water, tee shirt clinging to her slender, newly developed body and looking pissed as hell at him for shoving her in, he was lost. He'd spent another three futile years chasing after Veronica before she hammered it into his skull that she wanted Carrot-Top.
Reggie never lacked a date for Friday night unless he wanted time to himself to think. His smartphone contacts were miles long, and so was his Facebook friends list. He had looks and swag, which meant he always had choices.
But all of them paled compared to her. It didn't take long for him to fall for her, even though he fought it. Where the other girls constantly praised him, she challenged him, argued with him, and dared him to reach for better things for himself.
"Eeeargh," he growled as he watched the swirls of water around his feet flowing down the drain. He didn't want to let her down or push her too hard.
Reggie stood in front of his closet with a towel wrapped around his hips, contemplating his selections. His hand landed on a red polo with a black horizontal stripe that Betty always liked and hopped into a pair of black jeans, appraising it with a critical eye. It was missing something... He glanced around and found the slender, braided friendship bracelet that she made him on impulse. She gave it to him dubiously, but he kissed her until she forgot her own name after letting her tie it on his wrist. Arousal flared within him at the memory of how she felt against him, her narrow waist easily at home between his hands, and her mouth, sweet, soft and made for him. He dreamt of that mouth.
I care about you. That was what she told him the last time she pulled back. Reggie chafed at the memory:
"Reggie," she gasped. "Reg..." She broke their kiss, reluctantly, he thought, and stared up at him. Her lips were puffy and her eyes were glassy with passion. He felt a surge of masculine pride that he put that there.
"What's wrong?" he asked her anyway. He tucked a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear, so tempted to remove her ponytail holder and let it all down. It was too close to her curfew, and he didn't want to send her home disheveled. She caressed his jaw thoughtfully.
"I don't want to get carried away."
"Not even a little? I can't help you make up your mind?" An insistent voice wrapped tight in his Jockey briefs chimed in Come closer while you're making your decision. Her pulse was hammering under his fingertips.
"Your mind's already made up," she guessed slyly.
"It is," he agreed, shrugging. Devilment shone in his eyes.
"You're not worried we'll take things too far?"
"No." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "What's too far?"
"Doing it and then everything's different."
"Nothing will be that different!" He stammered, and he gripped her shoulders and leaned in toward her, staring into her eyes. "Is that what you're afraid of?" She shrugged and threw up her hands, and Betty tried to look away from him. The low rumble of his engine underscored their conversation, making it more finite and precious. Her eyes flicked toward the stereo's digital display. "So, what, you're afraid this will ruin things between us?"
"It's...I am afraid. I don't wanna lose you."
Damn it. Those words. They were his kryptonite. Reggie scowled slightly and shook his head.
"You won't lose me. I'm not going anywhere."
"You say that now." She sounded so unsure, and he felt indignant.
"Give me some credit, Betty."
"What if... What if you don't like it?" she insisted anxiously. She twisted her fingers nervously and her eyes held panic. "What if-"
He kissed her fiercely, almost pulling her into his lap; the console between them was an annoying barrier. She moaned with need and pleasure, and his fingers threaded themselves into her hair, despite his previous good intentions. His mouth...oh, the things he did with his mouth. Heat trailed over her cheeks, lips, jaw and ears, and his teeth gently scraped her neck as he bathed it in his steamy breath.
"I like this," he told her gruffly. "So I know I'll like that. Don't worry. Don't worry your pretty head, Bets. Don't worry about that from me. I want you to love it. Okay? I want to make you happy. I don't want you to be afraid." He kissed her between promises, and arousal warmed her belly. His gentle touch made little thrills run over her flesh. Betty whimpered when his fingers found the plump curve of her breast, savoring how supple it felt. "I'll still be here."
“Okay,” she agreed on a breathy sigh. “You feel so good,” she added. Her eyes closed in rapture as he tracked the taut, delicate cords of his neck with his tongue.
“So do you,” he husked. “You’re so soft, Betty.” He drew back from her and watched her pensively. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“No, I’m not,” she giggled, ducking her head, but his large hands framed her face, thumbs stroking her smooth cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeated. “Believe me.” He held back the errant thought that I know pretty girls. I’ve known dozens of them. It wasn’t the time or place. “You are.”
“It feels funny when you look at me that way.” She combed her fingers through the hair at his nape, feeling how hot his neck was, how his entire body radiated so much heat.
“Why?”
“I’m not used to… this. Just… having so much attention,” she told him, grinning. “It’s nice, just being with you like this.” She turned her lips into his palm and nipped at it, then nibbled the corner of his thumb. Watching her soft pink lips tease him woke the sleeping monster – who was he kidding, he’d been at half-mast since they got into his car – and he jerked to full attention when she drew his long index finger into the sweet, hot recess of her mouth. She hummed her approval of how he tasted, and her velvety tongue flattened along the length of his digit, stroking it, overloading his already tortured senses.
He was hard in seconds. “Betty… damn it. It… might be better if you didn’t do that.” He reluctantly jerked his hand away, leaving her looking dazed and disappointed.
“Sorry,” she said awkwardly.
“No. Don’t be. It’s just… too much right now. Let’s head back. Let me get you home.”
“Aw,” she pouted. She settled back into her seat and buckled up, and her hand lingered on the console. His hand reached for the gearshift, then he thought better of it for a moment. Betty looked down at their hands, which he’d threaded together, squeezing hers, before she met his eyes again.
“It’s okay, but I can’t handle much more if you want me to be a gentleman.” She nodded, and he met her halfway and gave her a quick peck.
“We’ll take it easy.”
“We’ll take it easy.” He backed out of his parking spot at Pop’s, where they’d lingered after the movie they watched, not wanting the night to end yet. He steered out of the lot, then held her hand again through the next three intersections.
“I’m not your first, am I?”
Reggie sighed.
“Would you be disappointed if I said no?”
“Not if you were being honest.” She watched the streetlights whizzing by in the dark. “Were there a lot?”
“Let’s go with a few. Can we not talk about this?” He felt flustered and hot and he cracked the window to cool his building sweat.
“I was just wondering.”
“There’s not much to discuss.”
“So, what would you call a few?”
“Betty…”
“Three? Four?”
“I thought we were gonna let this go,” Reggie sighed.
“We will. How about a rough estimate?” Her tone was accusing, but when he peeked over at her, she was smirking. He shook his finger at her.
“You… youuuuuu… you’re just messing with me now.”
“Inquiring minds wanna know.”
“Nope.”
“Aw, c’monnnnnnnn!”
“Nope.”
“Spoilsport.”
“We’re not having this discussion. Changing the subject, now.”
“You know my track record.”
“You’re still at the starting line. That doesn’t count.” She pinched him. “Ow… quit it.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is if you tell me.”
Because I’ve lost count. “Then you won’t see what the big deal is if we drop it. Baseball! Let’s talk about baseball! Or global warming. Damn, it’s getting pretty warm…” Guilt blossomed inside him, making him nervous and slightly sick.
So this was how it felt, he realized. This was him, paying his karmic debt for being Mister Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em. She kept ribbing him until they reached her driveway, and he was still guilty, flushed and tongue-tied after he walked her to her door and climbed back behind the wheel.
He still couldn’t wait to see her again.
*
Veronica’s earlier threat that she had to dash off evaporated when she saw the state Betty was in as Smithers showed her upstairs. “You look rattled. And you’re a mess. What time do you have to be ready?”
“Is it that bad?”
“No. No, we won’t call it bad… just a little… desperate. Okay. Let’s see what we’re working with.” Betty caught her reflection as she walked by Veronica’s bureau, and she shuddered. Her face was flushed and her hair was a flyaway mess from trying on and discarding clothes. “No time for a fashion show,” Veronica said gamely. “We’ve gotta pull out the big guns.”
“What are you thinking? And how much bail will you put up for me if I get arrested?”
“You know I’m good for it,” Veronica reminded her. “Hello? Remember who you’re talking to.”
“Sorry.”
“And?” Veronica held up her hand to her ear.
“And you’re freakin’ awesome.”
“And?”
Betty sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “And I bow to your impeccable taste and fashion wisdom, as they are unmatched and inarguable.” They’d had this discussion before.
“And?”
“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Okay. Get out of that.” Betty kicked off her shoes and undid the buttons of her simple sleeveless blouse. “You still keep that thing, huh?”
“Hush. You’ll hurt its feelings.” It was one of Betty’s favorites.
“Right. Sorry. Nice blouse. Gooooood blouse,” Veronica offered, petting the limp garment like it was a well-behaved toy poodle. Betty dropped her skirt and sat obediently on the bed while Veronica walked – strolled – into her closet. She turned left and Betty heard her opening up one of the panels in the wall, which was a “false front” for a closet-within-a-closet, which she nicknamed “The Vault.” All of her designer originals, some of which were hot off the sketch pads and runways, resided in their little hideaway, seldom seeing the light of day until Ron had a fashion emergency.
Or a really hot date with a college guy.
She emerged from the cave, beaming triumphantly, holding up the garment bag like it was a tablet of the Ten Commandments. “Ta-daaaah,” she crowed. She laid it on the bed and said “Take that tacky thing off.” Betty crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
“Uh…”
“OFF. You need a better foundation than that. Chop-chop!” She clapped her hands while Betty gingerly did as she was told, discreetly rolling up her innocent bra inside her abandoned, unappreciated blouse. Veronica reached into her drawers, the impossibly long, shallow kind like the ones in the back of Victoria’s Secret, and she extracted a perfectly folded, shell-pink strapless bra. She tossed it to Betty, who caught it one-handed while still trying to shield her nudity. “Wear it in good health. Protect it with your life.” Betty blushed furiously. “Unless you’re not planning to wear it that long?” she suggested blandly. Ronnie’s darkly glossed lips twisted. “Fess up.”
“I plead the Fifth.” Betty struggled with the bra, letting her breasts fall forward into it and fighting with the tiny hooks, more difficult without straps to anchor it to her shoulders. Veronica came to her rescue with a sigh.
“Are we having a dilemma?”
“If you mean are we having a heart attack and a potential shitfit worrying about all the ways I could mess today up, then yes.”
“Don’t worry about messing it up. You won’t. Let him worry about it. He has more to worry about than you.”
“You realize what’s on the table here and what’s at stake, right?”
“Sure. Mini golf,” Veronica muttered viciously.
“I hate you.”
“You need me.” Ron adjusted the bra from the back, tugging it into place and appraising her. “That’ll do.” She went to the intercom by her door and snapped, “Fifi! We need you, stat! Bring the spoolies!” *
“You’re going to miss your spa day.”
“Henri will wait for me. His tip depends on it.”
“How big a tip are we talking, here?”
“The last time he booked me, he was able to put a down payment on his swimming pool. It’s nearly finished.”
Fifi bustled inside and gave her a skeptical look. “No makeup?”
“Save her, Fifi.”
“I will accept this mission. It’s a worthy one.” She nodded at the garment bag. “Is that the Maneater?”
“The one and only.”
The Maneater. “Seriously?” Betty demanded.
“You’ll see why,” Veronica promised. “Makeup,” she reminded Fifi, who led Betty to the vanity and shooed her into a chair.
*
Betty made it home with ten minutes to spare. She was relieved to see that her father’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and she steeled herself. Her mother still hadn’t seen Veronica’s handiwork in its entirety…
Alice pulled open the door just as she was about to key the lock. “There you are,” she announced breathlessly. “Reggie just called. He said you didn’t answer your cell.”
“I’m just about to call him.”
“Aren’t you going to be hot in that jacket?” Alice commented. “Is that Veronica’s?”
“Uh-huh.” Betty tried not to blush or sound guilty.
“Your hair looks nice. A little more makeup than I’m used to seeing on you…”
“Just wanted something different. Fifi gave me a makeover.” More like a fresh coat of paint. Alice thoughtfully lifted one of her casually styled, loose curls and sighed.
“Gorgeous,” she pronounced. “Where is he taking you?”
“It’s a surprise,” Betty shrugged.
“Hurry and give him a call.” Betty was already sprinting upstairs.
“Got it!” she threw over her shoulder.
She searched her room for her purse, throwing in all of the essentials: spare lipstick, mints, her keys, cell… and one, last necessity. Betty dug into her upper drawer and rummaged through all of the neatly folded undergarments, feeling around for the small box. Heat rushed up into her face and her heart hammered with the urgency of tucking its contents into her purse’s interior pocket, zipping it shut. She crammed the box back into its hiding place and practically slammed the door shut, relieved she beat her mother’s climb up the stairs to tell her one last thing.
“I forgot to mention, dear, your father and I are headed out of town tonight. Your cousin Beth had her baby boy. We’re staying at auntie Mary’s so we can help out around the house.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s nice,” Betty mentioned through the door, trying to sound casual. “How long are you staying?”
“If you get back early enough, you can go with us,” Alice told her. “I was hoping you could cut things short, dear.” Panic flooded her.
“But… Mom. I’ve really been looking forward to today. Can’t I just go see them after they bring the baby home?”
“There will be other dates.” Crashing disappointment warred with annoyance in her chest. Betty swung the door between them open and shook her head.
“No. I want to go on this one.” Alice frowned and her hand drifted to her hip. Her voice brooked no nonsense.
“You know the rule. You’re not old enough to stay here yourself while your father and I are out of town.”
“Can’t Polly or Chick stay with me, then?” Betty urged, grasping at straws. “Or can’t I stay at Veronica’s tonight?”
“I’d prefer it if you went with us,” Alice sighed. “Polly and Chick are going to meet us there.” But Betty saw her mother’s resolve weakening a bit. “Don’t you want to see your little cousin?”
“I do, but today was going to be important to me. Please, Mom? I’ll just stay at Ron’s tonight.” Her mother folded her arms and sighed, leveling her with a look.
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart!” Betty drew a hasty X over her chest with one manicured finger. Her heart was pounding, and she was bursting with excitement over her pending victory.
“No funny business. No overnight guests here. No parties. No shenanigans.”
“None. There will be no shenanigans of any sort.” Betty held up her hands. “Promise, pinkie swear on a stack of Bibles-“
“That’s enough of that,” her mother said abruptly, giving her a look. “All right. Pack your bag for Veronica’s now, then.”
“I have to call Reg first.”
“Fine,” her mother sighed, rolling her eyes as she made her way downstairs. Betty grabbed her cell, but as soon as she keyed in her security code, she saw Reggie’s text flash across the screen.
Ready, Bets? Excitement surged through her veins and she felt slightly faint.
Definitely, she texted back.
She didn’t know how much more she could take, waiting for him downstairs in the foyer, three minutes felt like three hours, but she heard the crunch of tires in the driveway and the sound of music turning itself off with the ignition. She waited breathlessly for the sound of his feet coming up the walk, knowing her mother would chide her if she ran out to meet him.
That didn’t stop her from yanking open the door before he could knock. He smirked down at her a moment, fist still raised, and then his eyes dilated, roaming over her appearance.
“Shit,” he hissed under his breath. “Bets… wow.” His voice was low and hushed, wisely remembering that her mother’s car was in the driveway.
“Hey. Wanna come in?”
“That’s fine.” But he tugged her halfway out the door to give her a chaste kiss first. She pulled him inside and held his hand while she reacquainted Alice with him.
“Hi, Mrs. Cooper.”
“Hi, Reggie. You look nice. Got any plans today?”
“A little of everything,” he assured her. “We’re just gonna spend some time downtown, and maybe head to the beach.” Betty stared at him curiously. “Did you pack a suit?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Might go grab it now. I have towels in the car.” Alice’s brows rose.
“You’re dressy for the beach,” she pointed out.
“We’re heading there later in the afternoon.”
“All right. Sounds like you have a full day planned.” Alice sighed. “Call me tonight when you get to Veronica’s, dear.” Betty leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“I will. Bye, Mom.”
“See you later, sweetie.”
They headed down the front walk to Reggie’s car, and Reggie mimicked, “See you, sweetie,” in his most sickening June Cleaver voice. Betty punched him.
“Shut up, you.”
“You’re such a good little girl, Betty. Such a sweetie pie.”
“You suck,” she muttered, but she was grinning.
“You are,” he told her, egging her on as he unlocked her side of the car. “And hot. Did I mention you look hot?”
“I was hoping you’d get around to it, no,” she reminded him, but his expression made her face heat up. He keyed the ignition, then paused to reach for her, cupping her face for a smoldering kiss, fingers toying with the hair at her nape.
“The neighbors…” Her voice sounded a little desperate, then unintelligible as he sucked her lip into his mouth, and she drank in his low groan of need.
“Betty,” he murmured, “I’ve been waiting all day to see you.” They came up for air, and he licked his lips. “It was really… .really hard.” She nodded.
“Where first?”
“Food. Then a couple of other stops.” He gave her control of his stereo, plugging her phone into his Bluetooth, filling the interior of the car with Bruno Mars and the woodsy bite of Reggie’s aftershave.
*
He’d surprised her, driving past Pop’s and parking in front of a fancy-schmancy coffee bar that she’d always wanted to try. “Ooh,” she breathed. “You read my mind.”
“It’s nice, huh?”
“Looks… pricey,” she murmured as they walked past the chalkboard out front scribbled with the day’s specials. Reggie shrugged.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re sure?” Betty was fine with Pops, or shoot, even Taco Bell, not wanting to dent his pockets.
“It’s fine. Let’s eat. I’m starved.” He guided her inside with his hand at her lower back.
“It’s warm in here. Let’s get a seat away from the window,” she told him, noticing that the sunlight drenched the table by the large picture window.
“You could take off your jacket,” he suggested.
“I know, seriously. I forgot I even had it on.” She shucked the little cropped denim jacket and fanned cool air on her neck. “That’s better.”
“Much. Much. Better. Wow.”
“What?”
“Wow.” The word came out on a rush of breath. “Bets… wow.”
“We covered ‘Wow.’” But her cheeks flamed red, feeling self-conscious in the airy little frock, a short, flirty confection of aqua blue silk. The spaghetti-strapped halter neckline showed off her shoulders and slender, toned arms, and it was cut into a deep keyhole in the back, revealing more of her smooth skin.
“Legs,” he insisted.
“Okay, we didn’t cover those.”
“Legs,” he repeated numbly, and his fingertip grazed the tiny strap of her dress, making her shiver as he pushed her chair in toward the table when she sat down.
“Ooookay.” She was beaming as he sat across from her and handed her one of the little laminated menus. “What do y’wanna eat?”
“You.” His eyes were molten sin.
“Besides me,” she asked him sincerely, but mischief twinkled in her blue eyes. His hand was already resting halfway across the table, and she reached out to toy with the friendship bracelet.
“I can’t convince you to get back in the car so we can, um-“
“No. You said you were hungry.” He tsked in disgust.
“Damn it! I did, didn’t I?”
“So we’ll eat.”
Their waitress automatically set down two ice waters with lemon wedges, and Reggie ordered a buffalo mozzarella and tomato salad appetizer for them to share while Betty took her time with the menu. The café smelled delectably of coffee, pastries, garlic and olive oil, and lilting strains of classical music calmed the atmosphere and Betty’s furious pulse. Every time he touched her, it jumped in her wrist.
They traded each other halves of their sandwiches, Reggie’s roast beef for Betty’s turkey croissant, and he managed to talk her into a dessert of tiramisu, something neither of them had tried before. The espresso-soaked cake left Betty with a slight caffeine buzz and increased her jitters.
She left her jacket in his car for their next stop, the Riverdale Galleria.
“What are we doing here?” she asked him.
“Nothing much. Fix your lipstick.” Her brows drew together.
“Why?”
“You’ll see why.”
They were chatting, walking down the wide corridor, past standard offerings of Hot Topic, Foot Locker and a cutlery store, when Reggie steered her into a one-hour photo store. “What the…? What’s going on?”
“You look too hot in that dress for me to not take your picture,” Reggie shrugged, giving her a smug look. “And someone was a butthead and never gave me one of their school pictures.”
“My mom gave away all my wallets to my aunts,” Betty explained, but happy little fuzzies swarmed in her stomach. The girl at the counter smiled as Reggie signed in for their appointment.
“Two in this sitting?”
“No,” Reggie replied.
“Yes,” Betty countered.
“I didn’t plan on being in them.”
“I want you in them. You know you love having your picture taken.” Her lips curled. He rolled his eyes.
“Fine.” But he was game, picking the plain white backdrop for the first shot. Every frame was silly, neither of them as concerned with taking a pretty picture as much as making the other laugh.
*
The Riverdale Movies Ten theater was slightly chilly, making Betty wish briefly that she’d kept her jacket, but she huddled close to him in the dark, nibbling halfheartedly on the popcorn. She loved horror movies anyway, enjoying the chills that ran up her spine during every suspenseful scene. He snickered at her every time she startled or jumped in her seat, his thumb idly stroking her pulse. It was perfect.
*
The sunlight was blinding when they exited the darkened theater, even though it was later in the afternoon. “I’m not sleeping tonight. I’m not even turning off the lights. Seriously.”
“You were thinking about sleeping?” Reggie muttered incredulously. “We can keep the lights on, if you want.” He stopped her walk back toward his car and pulled her to him, crushing her protests and pulling a whimper from her, her hands palming his heartbeat. Her eyes looked up at him shyly as she pulled back, but they were still full of mischief.
“You’re so bad.”
They re-parked the car on the other side of the galleria lot, where a traveling carnival set up a midway full of ticketed rides and various junk foods. They perused the games, mastering the dart toss and coming away with ugly rabbit’s foot keychains for prizes, which they traded up for a homely stuffed Pikachu doll that felt like it was filled with packing peanuts. Reggie easily won the ring toss, baseball and bottle throw and penny toss games, but Betty beat him at the squirt gun races, which hadn’t changed since they were kids.
Just like then, now he challenged her to get on the Zipper. She didn’t hesitate, leaving the Pikachu by the chicken exit as they piled into the car. They took advantage of the close quarters and the relative – sort of – privacy afforded by the attendant closing the top of their car over them before the tinny sounding music began, signaling that the ride was about to begin. He tipped her face up to his and kissed her senseless, stoking her anticipation, reminding her that the day wasn’t over yet. He errantly stroked her leg, letting it drift beneath the flimsy skirt, and she yelped as the car jerked into motion, but his hand kept its perch, drawing little circles over her skin, then disappearing between her thighs. Betty shuddered as he found her heat, teasing the warm, nylon-wrapped nest of her sex.
“Oh, God…”
“Ready?” he teased, and she couldn’t tell if he meant the ride, which was swinging their car up off the ground and getting ready for the first end-over-end spin, or for the one thing they’d been planning for – dying for – since they woke up that morning. He stroked her one more time, and she felt herself grow moist, right before she was tilted upside down, so abruptly that she shrieked.
*
They ended their trip to the fun park at the photo booth, with Betty tsking over the price.
“These used to cost something like, fifty cents when we were kids. This is highway robbery.” Reggie shrugged as he fed a handful of singles into the slot.
“Get in.” He rushed her inside and automatically pull her into his lap once the curtain was drawn. “Smile pretty.”
She responded by giving him a wet willie, captured by the first flash of the camera. The next three shots were a free-for-all of goofy faces and umbrage, and he tickled her until she couldn’t breathe.
“You didn’t want serious pictures, right?”
“Never,” he said solemnly. “Never, ever, ever.”
“Where to next?” She was still on his lap, with his resting on her hips.
“We’re going for a dip, just like I told your mom,” he said with a shrug, but his eyes were twinkling. She shivered.
*
“This doesn’t look like we’re going to the beach,” she pointed out.
“I saw ‘for a dip.’”
“You said the beach earlier.”
“Water’s too cold,” he chided her.
“And?”
“And it’s just fine where we’re headed.”
“So, where are we headed?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” They turned off of the freeway, back toward the usual exit Betty usually used to get home. She rested back in her seat and laid her hand on his thigh absently, enjoying how comfortable it felt to just be with him.
“You could move that hand up, if you wanted,” he suggested.
“I could,” she agreed, but she smiled at him impishly. “I think we’re fine right here.”
“Damn it!” he snapped, and he gave her a put-out look. She laughed outright.
She didn’t realize that they’d arrived at his house until he parked in the driveway, which was empty.
“Oh. Wow.”
“They went on a pleasure trip with one of my dad’s buddies from college,” Reggie told her before getting out of the car, circling it to help her out.
“Yet we’re taking a dip?”
“Not a big dip.”
“Okay.” She looked confused, but he merely unpacked the towels he’d brought along with him and took her little beach bag out of the trunk. Reggie keyed his way into the front door, and Betty was suddenly all nerves. The sun had just begun to set, and the fading light illuminated Vicky’s impeccable living room. Betty smiled again at the framed pictures of Reggie from when he was a kid, remembering him at those various ages, still amazed at the turn of events that brought them to this moment. She followed him down the hall, where he nodded to the guest bathroom.
“Go ahead and put on your suit,” he offered. “I’m gonna turn on the spa.” Her eyes lit up.
“I didn’t know you had one.”
“It was cold out the last time you came over.” She blushed as she remembered their impromptu “rehearsal” in his kitchen, the first time he’d kissed her, when he told her to just “go with it.” Reggie squeezed her fingers. “Don’t take too long. Just meet me out back.”
“Okay.” She was suddenly embarrassed as she shut him out of the bathroom and began to get changed. Gingerly she folded the tiny, fragile dress and laid it on top of the toilet tank and shimmied into her light blue, boy-cut bikini. She contemplated tying her hair back, but eyed it in the mirror, noticing that Fifi’s careful styling was still intact. She smoothed one of the curls hanging over her shoulder, gave herself one last look, then went out to face him.
Everything’s going to change after this. That thought haunted her, nagging at her, but she was determined that yes, she did want this, that she wanted to be with him, and that it had to mean as much to him as it did to her…
… didn’t it?
Well, didn’t it?
Her misgivings were still fluttering inside her as she came out onto his back patio through the kitchen door, where he was bent over, fiddling with the switches on the tub. “Hey,” she told him shyly. “It’s nice out here.” He faced her, dressed down in long board short-style red and black trunks, and his eyes were dark and hungry as they took her in.
“Betty.” His voice was low and rough, and he closed the gap between them quickly, pulling her to him, kissing her with so much pent-up need and passion that her head spun. She had no doubt that he wanted her, it was in his touch and the way he murmured her name into her neck, hands roaming over her soft, warm curves, plucking at her suit as the unwanted barrier that it was. Her moans were sharp and desperate, and Betty clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck, loving the feel of his hard, lean body against hers. He didn’t separate from her, waltzing them both toward the now bubbling Jacuzzi tub, where he hopped in, then gently helped her down into the swirling water.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
“I didn’t know this was what you planned.” The rising steam made beads of moisture gather on his slick, tanned skin. He pulled her down onto his lap again, this time with no constraints on their intimacy, and he began touching her everywhere. The ends of her hair grew damp as she leaned her head back to give him better access to her neck, where he traced the delicate cords with his mouth. His fingers were splayed over her back, impatiently plucking at the straps of her top until she felt the neat bow she’d tied being expertly pulled apart. Her breasts bobbed on the warm tide of bubbles as her top half-floated on the surface, until Reggie grew tired with the knotted straps at her nape and untied those, too, and he carelessly flung the top across the patio. His palms found her and caressed the pouting, plump curves, fingers tracing their aching, rosy tips. Betty’s hands found their way into his hair, clutching the dark waves as he cherished her skin.
It couldn’t get any better, until it did.
His lips trailed a path of heat down over her collarbones, over her chest, and she quivered, not wanting to guess too soon where his mouth would go next, because it felt exquisite, and she made a throaty sound of need when his lips closed over her nipple. “Oh, God,” she husked. “That’s… that’s nice.” He groaned in agreement around the taut, straining little morsel as he suckled her, drawing her inside his heat. He held her captive, straddled over his lap in the luxurious warm water, and without thinking of what she was doing, Betty ground herself down against the hard, looming bulge beneath her, abraded by his shorts. His fingers found the edge of her bikini bottoms, slipping inside the spandex to probe her, and she felt herself threatening to come apart. “Yes, please,” she moaned softly.
“You feel so good,” he murmured into her neck. “You’re so soft. You’re sexy, did you know that?” She shook her head, but he nodded, kneading her nipple to hear her moan again. “You are.”
“I want to make this right for you,” she told him breathlessly.
“You are.” He contemplated her flushed face and glowing eyes, scraping back her hair from her face where the dampened strands clung. “Everything’s right about you, being here with me, Betty.” His fingers were still exploring her, finding her sweet, slick folds, and one of them slipped between them, priming her in time with him returning to her breasts, nuzzling and suckling them. She tightened herself reflexively around his digits, and he felt himself harden even more at the prospect of that snug treasure surrounding him, engulfing him, and it was hard to maintain his control.
Any semblance of it went out the window when she reached for him, insinuating her hand between their bodies and palming him experimentally. He expelled a harsh breath when she squeezed him through his trunks. “That’s it, grab it, please,” he begged, his voice rough.
“You like it?”
“I like it, I like it when you do that to me.”
“It feels good?” She continued to knead him, then found the small patches of Velcro that held the front fly shut, tugging them apart, freeing his straining, grateful cock. “You’re so hard…”
“You’re killing me!” But he closed his hand around hers, encouraging her to change her grip, to grope him more firmly, showing her how to ring him and slide her hand in even strokes. He jerked his hips into her ministrations, continuing to toy with her sex. They teased each other in to a frenzy of love-drunk, hungry kisses and searching hands, grinding against each other with the continually useless barriers of swimsuits between them.
“Reg… I need you,” she gasped. “Please.”
“Upstairs,” he grated out. It was tempting to dawdle there a few more minutes, when she was so relaxed and comfortable against him, and so willing. All it would take was a simple slide of the crotch of her spandex briefs to one side and one swift plunge to satisfy that need that was blotting out everything else, but he knew she wasn’t ready, that he had to do this right.
He wrapped them both in towels, bundling her against the beginning of the evening’s chill before he walked them inside, arms still snuggling her with every step. Reggie flicked on the hall light and guided her upstairs, which she hadn’t had the chance to tour on her previous visit.
“Your house is so nice,” she mused.
“Can’t say much about my room,” he admitted.
“I think it’ll be fine.” He led her inside by the hand, and she was pleased to see he’d made the bed. There weren’t any dirty clothes on the floor, and most of it was relatively neat except for a pile of magazines and papers strewn over his computer desk. His guitar case hung by its strap from the back of the door. The room felt like him, smelled like him, and she automatically imagined him in that bed at night, snuggled under the blue comforter.
“Now, where were we?” he rumbled into her neck, and she smiled in the dark.
“I left my purse downstairs.”
“We’ll manage without it.” He kissed her neck and slid open the desk drawer, extracting a box of Trojans. Betty smirked. “Let me dry you off. Don’t catch a chill.” But his mouth was already on her, hands caressing her alternating with rubbing her dry with the towel, and soon his heat consumed her.
He slid his hands into her little briefs, massaging her before tugging them down, where she shimmied them off, stepping out of them when they ringed her ankles. His trunks were next, pulled open and tugged down by her greedy hands. Reggie cursed under his breath as she found him again with her careful, but insistent grip, stroking the slick, rosy head.
They stood like that for a minute, flush against each other, skin on skin, and it felt like heaven. He backed her against the edge of his full-sized bed until she sat back on it, scooching back toward the pillows. Her body pulsed with the awareness of him, that this was really happening, and he drank in her sounds of pleasure as he bent down and nipped at her lips, then paused.
“God, look at you,” he told her huskily. “You’re so beautiful.” She arched up toward him as he slid down into her embrace, enthralled by her graceful nudity and her waves of wheat blonde hair falling down around her face.
“So’re you.” He loomed over her, unabashed, easy in his own skin. His body was perfect, except for one tiny detail. “What’s that?” Her fingertip traced a pale scar on his lower abdomen.
“Had my appendix out.” His abdomen jumped at her touch, and the mattress dipped beneath her as he joined her there. Her mouth was a moue of sympathy.
“Awwww…” She kissed him better as he leaned over her, moving the extra throw pillows out of the way so she could recline. He stroked her thoughtfully. “You always had all these freckles?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Don’t look at them.”
“I love them.”
“Goof.”
“Let’s count them…”
“Let’s not.” She picked up a pillow and tried to bop him with it, but his grin was wicked.
“Then let’s count…” he gave her a mock contemplative look, “how many times I can make you say my name.” He eased himself over her and everything in the room was blocked out by his silhouette as he kissed her.
Betty lost count after around ten, content to give up under his slow, thorough exploration of her body, heeding the insistent press of his bulk and addictive warmth. She felt his manhood, stiff and searching, nestled between her thighs, and his hips coaxed her, getting to know her softness with each deliberate grind. She met each thrust instinctively, arching and molding herself to him, feeling the temptation of a more satisfying union just within reach. His fingers spread her, teasing and dipping inside her, priming her. Her friction and the growing slickness of her dewy lips was pushing him over the edge, but he reined in his need to come, despite her closed eyes and slack, open mouth moaning for him to continue.
She heard the tear of a foil packet, and that roused her. “Okay,” she breathed, looking relieved.
“I knew what you were thinking.”
“Want any help?” She leaned up, bereft of his heat when he backed up onto his haunches and fumbled with the packet, pulling out the little latex disc.
“It’ll go faster if I-“ His words cut off abruptly when her hands wrapped around him.
“Are we in a rush?” she breathed over him, steaming the plump, straining head, which twitched up toward her mouth.
“Um… Bets…”
“Hmn?” she murmured, peering up at him through her lashes as she lipped at him, then flattened her tongue against his silky flesh. Reggie’s hips jerked sharply and he made an unintelligible sound. His fingers, nerveless, dropped the condom onto the bedspread, which she quietly took with her free hand while she held him in the tentative ring of her fingers and engulfed him in her velvety heat. She had no experience, no rhythm, but she still felt damned good, and she was making it hard for him to follow through with the main event.
“You… should probably stop,” he choked.
“Mmmnn?” She pouted around his flesh, if that was possible, and her blonde brows drew together. She let him pop loose from her mouth, and her lips were rosy and wet. “Why? You don’t like it?”
“Get it on me,” he hissed. “For the love of… just get it on me, Bets.” She began to position it. “Turn it the other way,” he insisted. Betty chuckled, then worked the tiny sleeve down his length in long, milking squeezes. His body stiffened and his voice sounded helpless and desperate. “Is it on?”
“Yes.”
“Then c’mere!” She was almost frightened of the look in his eye, but he pulled her beneath him, hands continuing their earlier mischief, and she was lost. Reggie teased her in spiraling, plunging strokes while his snugly wrapped cock buffeted her, rocking hard against the tiny, hooded nubbin, making her forget what day it was. She tried to meet his thrusts, aware of the little thrills in her belly and the tingling in her breasts. He changed their angle and pulled himself back, kneeling in toward her. He rubbed the head of his cock against her, barely pushing it along the damp, slick seam. She gripped his thighs, wanting to pull him closer.
“That’s… that’s nice,” she whispered.
“You like it?” His voice was a husky purr. He rubbed her straining clit with his thumb, watching her belly quiver. “Want more?”
“Please?”
“You like it like this?” He pushed himself in, another mere centimeter, just glossing himself with her wetness, and he lingered there, toying with her as he kept rubbing. His shallow little thrusts were driving her mad.
“Yes.”
“You want me?” She licked her lips, and her hands were gripping his legs, massaging the muscular columns and scraping him with her nails. She nodded.
“I want you.”
But he dawdled a little longer, wanting to make sure she was ready, and the strain was killing him. In the back of his mind, that nagging voice kept insisting that this was crucial, this slow build, ensuring she had the control, and he heeded it, until she scooched down closer to him and grasped his hips, sliding her thighs over his, and her hand covered his where he used it to stir her up.
“You can,” she told him. He felt nervous sweat break out over his flesh with her words.
“You’re sure?” She nodded, lips dry. They were both breathing raggedly and dazed with arousal.
“Please, Reggie.”
Please, Reggie. Magic words. He leaned down and kissed her hard, lifting and wrapping her legs around his waist, and he pushed himself inside her, yelping as her teeth buried themselves in his shoulder. They both cried out, and he froze against her, feeling her shudders and rough, warm breathing against his neck as she tried to master the new sensations of being filled and stretched. Betty hesitated to move around the throbbing invasion, aching and burning with its unfamiliarity. Reggie’s mind reeled at the snug fit of her hot sheath. He tried to be polite, even though he wanted to lose himself in the moment.
“If you want me to stop, we can-“
“No,” she hissed. “No…” He withdrew incrementally, but her legs tightened around him and brought him back, making him groan. His erection faltered slightly at her initial sound of pain, but it was coming back, urging his hips to move. He adjusted her legs around him, where they were clamped like a vise.
“You’re sure?”
“It gets better,” she told him, as if willing him to confirm it.
“It gets way better,” he promised, and his voice was low and delicious as he lapped at her throat. “So much better…” She moaned at his next little thrust, and then the next. Then she focused past the pain, feeling him, tasting him, hearing how he responded to her touch and the snug squeeze of her flesh around him. Her legs relaxed slightly, allowing him to align himself against her more closely and their bodies to caress every time he moved.
“Reggie…” She held him tightly as he rocked into her, bowing his head into her neck, and her body’s pull on him was growing and insistent, urging him to completion. His thrusts sped up, and he felt his muscles burn, a sweet burn as he watched her face, listened to her voice, confirming that she was his. She felt him stiffen and tighten inside her, making her cramp, and his eyes shuttered in pleasure. His muscles were taut, the cords of his neck standing out as he supported himself and continued his thrusts at an almost frantic pace, and he looked… so sexy, so lost in pleasure, and he belonged to her. Betty was breathing hard and twisting the sheets, crying out to him. “REGGIE!”
“Oh, God… I can’t… Betty…” The momentum built up inside him, and she was snug and hot and soft and felt so perfect, and there was no way to stop the climax that rumbled through him like a freight train, building in the base of his spine and making him see stars. Ripples of pleasure made his hips thrust in short bursts, and Betty rode them out, tightening around him for the aftershocks.
They lay together, limp and spent while their sweat cooled and the shadows on the wall lengthened until they heard crickets outside. “I can’t move,” Reggie admitted hoarsely.
“Then don’t.” He felt her smile against his chest. They legs twined together as he buried his lips in her hair. “Thank you for today.” He jutted his chin down to peer down into her face. Betty smirked up at him.
“What part?”
“All of it.”
“Thank you.” Betty tightened her embrace and listened to his heartbeat as they slowed and grew more even. His fingers idly caressed her skin.
“I should probably be getting to Ron’s.” Surprise and annoyance warred over his features.
“Like hell.”
“Kidding. Just kidding.”
“Seriously? Do you want me to drop you over there?”
“I’m happy right here.” Betty made a mental note text her, anyway, to make sure they shared the same alibi. Veronica would throw a fit tomorrow and blow up her phone with messages, but the lull of Reggie’s warm, firm body was too strong. Reggie thoughtfully pulled the covers over them both and cradled her close, and they chatted and teased until exhaustion claimed them, and Reggie and Betty drifted sweetly into oblivion.
*
They woke in a mad jumble of mussed hair and limbs the next day, after much murmuring, snoring, shifting and stealing of covers. The buttery sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window, and Reggie yawned and stretched. Betty smacked her lips and groaned.
“Too early,” she whined. Reggie scrubbed his face with his palm and rubbed sleep from his eyes.
“Babe, it’s almost ten.” Her eyes cracked open and Betty squinted at the alarm clock.
“Shit. I’d better get to Ron’s. I have to get her dress back, and if my mom calls me, I’d rather call her back from over there.”
“Don’t let her give you a hard time.”
“She’s my bff. It’s her job.” His chest rumbled under her cheek as he chuckled.
“As long as she enjoys her work.” He kissed her temple. “Morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Mantle.” Her smile was impish. She teased his chin with her fingertip, stroking the earliest beginnings of stubble.
“You’re glowing.”
“That’s your fault.”
“You felt amazing.”
“So did you.”
“Are we okay?” He stroked her hair and sighed.
“Okay, how?”
“You still worried that this will change everything?” He poked her. “I’m still here.”
“You are. Look at that.” She pinched him, and he swatted her hand. “And it kind of does change everything, when you think about it. I mean, I’ve been in your room. That gives me cart blanche to come back whenever I want.” He shrugged and smirked.
“Fine.”
“And I get to borrow your shirts and watch your TV.”
“Those aren’t dealbreakers. But I get the remote.”
“That’s fair.”
“I get to borrow your boxers, too.”
“Then what do I get to wear?”
“Me.” He felt himself stirring beneath the covers, jutting against her in response.
“Babe?”
“Hm?”
“Tell Ron you’re gonna be late.”
*
Betty closed her diary and set it back on her desk before she collapsed back into the pillows. She laid back and opened up her contacts, finding a smug, smirking icon of a certain pigtail-tugging, snowman-demolishing creep grinning up at her. It was time to go get into some trouble.
FIN.
- 15
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