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Reggie doesn’t expect to see her walk through the doors of his nightclub.
One because it’s a gay bar, and okay, it’s not exactly rare for females to come tagging along with their friends into his joint but it’s more to do with the fact that two, she’s like a picture come to life from the memories he’s worked for years on trying to put to rest.
Betty Cooper.
He’ll be goddamed.
She looks different in the time passed between them; her blonde hair so often worn in a tight ponytail is now cropped short in loose strands by her chin. And even though her once bare-natural face has the tiniest hint of shimmer and red lipstick painted across her lips, it’s those wide doe-like eyes that steal the breath from him—the baby blues that make her so damn recognizable, even with the seven years of silence between them.
Reggie downs his Highball and watches the man she’s with drag her to the bar, talking to her in an animated manner.
If he squints, he can see that ponytail again in his mind’s eye as she sits straight up on the barstool. He can see her folding her hands demurely across her lap while asking Pop Tate for a chocolate milkshake. Except now Pop Tate is actually his newest employee, Antonio, and the chocolate milkshake is actually a shot of the creamier varieties.
Grinning at the lost look on her face when her man whispers something in her ear until he’s answering his phone and jogging out of sight, Reggie straightens his collar and saunters down to where she’s rigidly staring at her shot glass as if it’s some kind of offending object.
“A Quick Fuck.” He says over the music blaring in the speakers above them. She jumps in her seat, whipping her face in his direction, looking appalled.
“Excuse m—!? Oh my…” her expression shifts from surprised, offended, angry and back to surprise in the short span of three seconds.
Reggie can’t help but smirk as he leans on the bar top and points to the shot glass before her, explaining. “Your poison of choice.”
Betty blinks those wide eyes at him and for a short moment, he feels his gut twist in a way that’s a mix of nostalgia and attraction. She licks her lips and tilts her body toward him just a bit. “Reggie?”
He runs a hand through his hair and hopes the nerves approaching at an alarming rate within himself aren’t visibly obvious. When he speaks however, he’s relieved when the words come out smoothly. “In the flesh.”
“Oh my god!” Betty cries out, surprising him as a wide smile splits across her face before her arms are encircling his neck.
She’s soft and warm and smells suspiciously like vanilla frosting. Without meaning to, he feels himself relax in her familiar embrace. “Long time no see, huh?”
“I’ll say!” she laughs, pulling away as her voice raises to carry over the tunes. “What are you doing here? Are you…?”
He’s quick to correct that very obvious curiosity in his sexuality. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, you’re looking at half the ownership of this lovely establishment.”
Her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape before she’s looking toward the doors, presumably for the man she arrived here with.
Reggie nods in the direction of her gaze. “Friend or boyfriend?”
Betty turns back to him and chuckles. “Carter is just a friend.”
His smirk widens, and he turns to the bartender to order them a couple of shots before focusing his attention back to her. “Good.”
Her brow quirks up as she leans her elbow onto the bar top. “Good?”
His eyes aren’t discreet when searching her left hand for a ring, and he’ll admit there’s a surge of relief when noticing there’s none. “You single?”
“Wow.” Despite the snort that leaves her lips, she shakes her head in amusement. “I see you haven’t changed that much.”
“You’d be surprised.” He counters in good-natured manner. When the bartender sets two shots in front of them, he slides the new glass beside her still cream filled one. “Seven years is a long time.”
He wonders if she notices the way her shoulders slump at the statement, her eyes looking downcast as a small sigh escapes her. “Yeah, you can say that again.”
“Come on, Cooper.” Reggie loses some of his gaudy display and lowers himself in the seat beside her. His shoulder bumps against her own playfully and his smirk softens into a grin. “Down your Quick Fuck and catch me up on your life. You out there saving the world and animals and shit?”
Betty bites her lip and looks toward the front doors again as the music behind them blares in sync with the many colorful lights illuminating the dance floor. Her friend slips back in with a man in his arms, the two of them stumbling toward the restrooms in a heat of frenzied kisses.
Reggie’s brows shoot up and as the owner, he knows he should probably do something, but he just can’t find it in himself to move. “Well… your friend moves fast, doesn’t he?”
“His boyfriend just flew into town.” She explains, biting her lip as she tears her gaze from the restroom. “I see they’re getting… reacquainted.”
Without warning, she swivels back to her shots and downs the first one in a matter of seconds before the second one follows.
“Jesus!” she coughs, scrunching her nose in distaste.
“All right!” Reggie laughs, grabbing his own and tipping it back before setting it down to the bar with a soft clink. The place is starting to fill up, men squeezing themselves into the free seats around them as they start their own evenings out. “Can I buy you another drink?”
“Reggie, are you hitting on me?” she quirks a brow and smirks, crossing her legs as she angles her body toward him.
There’s no denying she’s a gorgeous woman. Even in her modest outfit of black jeans and her pale blue chiffon top, she’s always been able to stir a want within him.
Maybe it’s because he already has an idea at what’s hiding under those clothes. Maybe it’s because he faintly remembers the way her breath would hitch and her fingers would curl into his hair when he kissed that pulse point riiiiight under her—
“Reggie?”
He shakes his head and chuckles to cover up the fact he’d been completely distracted with her. “Sorry. Must’ve gotten lost in your eyes.”
“That was terrible.” Betty snorts indelicately and juts her elbow into his stomach roughly. “Please don’t tell me women fall for those horrible lines.”
He laughs outright then and smooths his hair back, tilting his head with a shrug. “The amount would surprise you.”
A groan stumbles from her lips as she stifles a laugh.
“So…” he drawls out, placing one hand on the back of her stool. “You up for that drink?”
… … …
Reggie remembers late night kisses and fooling around back when they were just a couple of dumb college kids. He remembers Betty’s tears over Archie in middle school and high school and having to stifle his own jealousy as the freckled face moron bounced from one girl to the next.
He remembers the way Betty stomped up to him their senior year, the way he’d opened his mouth to give some cocky remark about how she should really drop that knucklehead and give him a chance before her fingers had latched into the lapels of his jacket and yanked his head down for a searing kiss.
He remembers the way his eyes widened in a dazed shock before she’d pulled away and said, “You’ve been wanting a date with me, right Mantle? Pick me up tonight. Six o’ clock.”
Reggie remembers the way she’d sauntered off then with red cheeks, her ponytail bouncing behind her as the students in the hallway stared just as stupefied at the uncharacteristically brazen behavior of Riverdale High’s goody two-shoes.
He remembers Archie being frozen beside Veronica as his eyes trailed over him, and damn if Reggie hadn’t felt like the smuggest bastard in school that day. He also may have rubbed it in the freckle-head’s face an obnoxious amount of times as well.
Reggie had also had a date scheduled that night with some girl he can no longer remember the name of, but he’d had no qualms in cutting it off to take out the elusive Betty Cooper.
He may have gotten a slap and been called an insensitive prick, but the end result had been worth it.
Reggie had tried to be romantic by bringing his telescope to the park for them to stargaze, but the notion was cut abruptly short by the sprinklers going off, soaking the two of them to the bone as they’d sprinted for his car in bouts of laughter.
He remembers trying to use all his moves to beguile Betty, but he also remembers not feeling right when the ones to seduce her made him feel a little guilty and uneasy. He’d ended up not using those ones particular ones after all.
Instead, Betty’d given him a soft kiss when he dropped her off, just the faintest brush of her damp lips against his, and to this day Reggie can still recall the exact way his heart had stuttered in his chest.
How Archie Andrews had never been able to see what a good thing he had made Reggie’s blood boil in envy. Especially when after their date, the redheaded idiot only had to whisper empty promises in Betty’s ear to get her back in his gravitational pull.
Reggie hadn’t been bitter though. Really. He hadn’t.
Pfft, he had a whole line of girls after him! Honestly, he really couldn’t care less that Betty Cooper went back to Andrews after he’d given her the Grade A Mantle experience.
Except okay, maybe it was a bit of a lie, because he’d actually cared a lot. Whatever charm Betty had on the people around her, he was not impervious to it.
Maybe it was the way she’d actually treated him the same as everyone else. How she’d treated him with kindness and genuine interest. Maybe it was the way she’d giggled at all his corny advances on her as she completely waved them off. Or maybe it was the way she’d showed up to his house the day after his grandmother passed away in their sophomore year, and how she’d baked him his favorite banana bread before letting him cry on her shoulder. The way she’d rubbed her nails through his hair and told him it was okay to cry.
Or maybe it was the way she’d always managed to see the best in him when he couldn’t even see it himself.
Whatever it was, it followed Reggie up into the first couple years of college where they’d ended up being roommates.
Having both been accepted into Notre Dame, away from Riverdale and the emotional pariah’s there, he would’ve been an idiot not to try and go for it with her.
The thing between them had never lead to anything more than flirtatious banters and heated make out sessions, but he’s not going to lie and say that the little they did have hadn’t pleased the hell out of him.
And now years later, even after losing touch to their respective careers and lives, she’s still a knockout—still kind, still funny, still gorgeous, and she works with special needs children like she’s some goddamn saint straight out of a holy book!
There just this thing about Betty Cooper. She’s like this itch he can’t scratch, and she’s just so… so…
He can’t really think of the word right now as Betty’s tongue licks a trail from his neck to the lobe of his ear. Grabbing her hips, he lifts her up and feels her legs lock around him as he carries her out of the elevator they’re crammed in and to the door of his apartment.
The bed is too far right now and he drops her to the couch before falling to his knees and pushing her shirt up to press open mouthed kisses along her stomach.
Betty shivers beneath him and holy hell does it make his cock strain painfully inside his pants. “Tell me you don’t wanna stop.” He manages to croak as her fingernails scratch wonderfully along his scalp.
“I didn’t come to your place just to swap spit, Reg.”
Reggie smirks as he thumbs the button on her jeans, toying with it as his other hand pushes her blouse up further to expose her cotton white bra. Her breasts are tinted red, as well as the heated skin in the valley of them and the sight is nothing short of breathtaking. He stretches up to trail his tongue along her sternum as his fingers push one cup down to expose a rosy nipple.
“I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby.” He jokes before capturing the sensitive flesh between his lips.
Betty’s hips jut off the couch and her hands move down onto his shoulders, pressing onto him tightly. “Oh!” she hisses, “Yes.”
His cock twitches again and he moves to pull the other breast free before kneading it in his palm and pinching the pebbled flesh with little restraint. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, Cooper.” He talks around her skin. “The noises you make… Fuck.”
She whines a little at his words, shifting her hips in a desperate manner now as her hand slips between them to rub at herself before those fingers are reaching for the belt of his own jeans.
“Always knew you’d be chatty in bed.” Betty breathes out as he switches from one nipple to the other. Her mouth parts as her head falls back when he begins to use his teeth. “R-Reg—”
“You did, huh?” Reggie pants, reaching behind her to unclip her bra completely and help her out of the shirt bunched up near her neck. “You thought about how I’d be in bed?”
Betty flushes a darker shade of pink and bites her lip as he begins to pull at her jeans. She moans when he leaves kisses along her exposed thighs as he continues his task of getting her completely naked.
“Tell me.” He demands huskily, flinging her pants somewhere on his living room floor. His hands move up her legs slowly, spreading her knees apart as he dips his head and pulls at her panties with his teeth. “Did you picture yourself in my bed, gorgeous? My hands all over you? Did you wonder how I’d fuck you?”
“Y-yes.” She whimpers as he releases the material between his teeth with a snap against her skin. “Dammit, Reggie!”
His eyes are darkened, intense. He’s fucking starving for the taste of her. Knowing now that she’d thought of him like that—he wonders if she’d ever touched herself to the image. Wonders if there’s ever been a time where she’d had the same thoughts he did as they shared a place together. Maybe they’d gotten off at the same time without even knowing it—the two of them only separated by a thin wall.
“I want to taste you.” He groans, smelling the musk of her scent as his nose dips into the shadows of her thighs.
“God, yes.” Betty nods adamantly in approval. “Please,”
It’s all he needs before he rips her underwear off her body, ignoring her squeak of surprise and wasting no time as he pulls at her from the back of her knees to bring her to the edge of the sofa for his tongue to slant across her heat.
She’s wet and soft and when she keens, Reggie swears the sound ignites a burning inferno inside him. The muscles in his stomach contract tightly and he moans against her velvet lips, running his hands down her legs and back up until they rest on her thighs, parting them even further still until she’s spread like apart like a flower in bloom.
He’d envisioned it plenty of times, of just how beautiful Betty would be as she came, but the reality is far superior than any of his younger self’s imaginations.
She’s flushed and breathing in short little gasps, running her fingers through his hair and over his scalp as her body arches off the couch. Her face pinches tightly as one long and sultry moan of his name spills from her lips in an almost reverent manner.
Reggie clenches his eyes shut and pulls away as the way she’d moaned his name like that repeats itself in his head. He palms himself, alleviating the pressure against his jeans before quickly unbuttoning the offending material.
“Wait,” Betty breathes out, sitting up and pushing her hair back from her face. Cupping the sharp angles of his jaw with calloused fingers, she strokes his cheeks in such a way that makes his throat tighten. It’s almost difficult to swallow the spit in the back of his tongue properly.
This is different than the other women he brings back to his place.
This gesture is too… intimate.
Like a lover’s caress.
But Betty Cooper is a whole genre of herself, so he supposes he really shouldn’t be surprised. She begins to unbutton and pull the zip down from his pants, and Reggie can do nothing but watch the movement of her deft fingers as she grabs him in her palm and pulls him free from the restraints of his briefs.
He actually shudders. Shudders.
Like some sprung prepubescent boy.
Reggie Mantle is no stranger to sex. He loves sex. He loves the feeling of being deep inside someone, feeling the pressure build in his core until his cock is hard and aching and ready to tip him over the edge. But the sex is always calculative. No kissing too long in one place, no meaningful touches or whispers of the personal persuasions.
But Betty… Betty runs her fucking thumbs in a feathered touch over his eyebrows, moving them down slowly onto the jut of his cheekbones before dragging them over his lips and without thinking, he kisses one pad of her thumb and exhales roughly when a soft smile flitters across her face at the gesture.
Okay, so if he’s being honest, a small part of him wants to pull away, bug out and forget this ever happened. He can go on with his life not thinking about these exposed vulnerabilities. But the other part… the larger part—
“You’re thinking way too hard for someone who’s about to get banged.” Betty’s voice cuts in, just the tiniest bit apprehensive as she smooths the crease of his brows back into their normal arch.
“Banged?” he raises one, feeling the callouses on her skin snag at a few hairs. “What are we, in eighth grade?”
“Shut up.” she flicks his forehead and leans back against the couch, looking like a fucking painting come to life as her fingers tug on the loops of his loose jeans. “Kiss me.”
All hesitations escape him at her soft demand, and Reggie can do nothing but comply as he presses a knee into the cushions and leans forward, curving over her body and swallowing the soft mewls she emits when he kisses her soundly.
The thought of her tasting herself off his tongue makes him throb and he reaches down to jerk himself a few times before her smaller hand takes over.
“I-I can’t believe we’re actually here.” She says breathlessly against his lips as her hand begins working him into near incoherence. Her body stretches up until he can feel all of her pressed against him, forcing him to drop his forehead onto her shoulder as her hand picks up speed. “After all this time, and… God, I never do this, you know. But I always wondered… with you…”
“Fuck, Cooper.” He grits out, feeling even more aroused by her words.
Without warning, Reggie pushes her hand away and swallows the question off her lips before lifting her back up into his arms. She slides against him at the movement and he feels tingles of smug pleasure when she cries out at the friction it’d forced on her most sensitive areas.
He stumbles slightly trying to kick off his pants with her still in his arms, and she grips onto the hair at the nape of his neck as he almost trips going into the threshold of his bedroom. They don’t fall, but they tumble onto his messy bed in a heap of limbs and breathless laughter. He shucks his shirt off and ignores the little flutter of his heartbeat when Betty sighs prettily and runs her hands across the length of his chest, admiring his form with an appraising look.
“Not bad, right?” he quirks a brow with a shit-eating grin.
She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, craning her neck up to trail her tongue along the contours of his pecks. “I’d almost forgotten how annoying you were.”
“Really?” he’s sure his grin rivals that of the Cheshire cat at this point, his cheeks hurt from how wide his smile is. “Would’ve figured you’d remembered that hours ago.”
Betty pulls his head down and bites his lower lip as she angles her hips up and runs a leg over the curve of his ass. “I was too distracted by all the horrible one-liners this guy at the bar was trying to lay on me.”
“Must’ve worked since he’s about to lay another thing on you.” He wriggles his eyebrows at her.
She groans in amusement, dropping her head back against the pillows beneath her. “Okay, that was the worst one.”
He slips a hand between their bodies and rubs the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, stunting her speech as her lashes flutter closed in pleasure. “Let me make it up to you.” He says suavely, planting kisses along her jaw and chin.
A breathless chuckle escapes her, her breasts moving at the motion and drawing gaze away from her eyes momentarily as he admires the curve and shape of them. “You’ll have to do more than that, Mant—oh!”
He slides into her in one smooth stroke, his body tensing as he revels in the sheer heat of her around him. She’s tight and wet and fucking hell he’s going to embarrass himself by shooting his load early if he doesn’t calm his shit down.
“Holy—!” he breathes out roughly, trying to think of other things to slow down his impending orgasm as his heart beats wildly in his chest.
“Reggie, please.” Betty pleads in a whimper that sends shockwaves straight down to his dick.
“I really wanted to be cool and draw this out,” he groans, moving his hips slowly as he curves over her and bites down along the column of her neck and collarbone. His eyes are pinched shut as his brain comes back from short circuiting and he moves the finger still on her clit in a furious manner, hoping to draw her to another release before he can completely embarrass himself. “but this is going to be over way too soon.”
Betty either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care, her own eyes closed as she moves her hips in tandem with his own, their strokes picking up speed as they find a hypnotic rhythm. His arm between them is like an anchor as she grabs hold of it, digging her fingers into the tanned flesh and honing in to every sensation spreading throughout her body like the heat of a furnace. “Yes, yes, yes—” she chants, edging toward the peak of euphoria.
Their movements are rough and sloppy at this point, hard and deliberate as they both seek that cataclysmic wave of nirvana. Reggie means to tell her he’s about to come, but his orgasm catches up to him before his words do and he’s spilling into her just as she clenches around him, her mouth open in a silent scream as her body shakes with her second release.
The room is quiet after that, and for the first time in a long while, Reggie’s almost reluctant to pull out.
He does, of course, and his body falls to the right of her, one hand moving up to rest on his forehead as he catches his breath.
He feels Betty shiver beside him and tugs the sheet under his body out from under him before draping it lazily over her own. She smiles and pushes it back off, leaning over to kiss him before standing up from the bed.
His heart leaps to his throat at the action and it’s a strange, unwelcome feeling, this panicked emotion. Vulnerability.
Reggie grimaces and forces his pride back as he asks, “Where’s the fire, Cooper?”
Fuck. His voice wasn’t meant to waver.
“I have to pee.”
Who knew four little words could ease a wave of uncertainty in their simplicity? Betty pulls at the sheet he’d given her and wraps it around her frame, her hair now a mess and her lips stung cherry red.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall to your left.” He answers, flopping back onto the mattress. Her footsteps pad on the hardwood floor beneath her as she walks away.
Now what?
Reggie feels that panic from moments earlier flare back in his chest with a vengeance. Does he invite her to stay? He likes cuddling, sure. But not with one night stands. Which Betty is not. At least… he doesn’t think she is. She’s…
She’s Betty Cooper.
They have history.
She’s not some random no-name he wants to just kick out now that he’s got his fuck-full. Maybe he’s her one night stand though. How should he react if she decides to leave? The question of does he actually want her to, shouts a resounding ‘no!’ in his mind, but he’s definitely not going to beg her to stay if she doesn’t plan to.
Shit.
Is he overthinking this?
“Everything okay?” Betty asks from the doorway, her hair still mussed but obviously touched up in an attempt to smooth it down. Her cheeks are pink as she stares at him, her lip worried between her teeth as she fidgets there with her white-knuckled grip a stark contrast to the black silk of sheet in it.
Reggie swallows, feeling the itching of that post coital awkwardness threatening to hang over them. Still, he forces himself to relax and laces his fingers behind his head, feigning comfort. “It’d be a lot better if you were beside me.”
Damn, he’s smooth.
Betty visibly relaxes, and Reggie feels his own muscles loosen at the response. Breathing comes a little easier, but it’s probably the angle he’s moved himself in against the pillows. Definitely not all her.
She slips beside him, molding her body against his as she lifts the sheet to allow him coverage from the nippy air as well. She rolls to her side, pulling one of his arms and tugging it around her waist until he’s forced to spoon her from behind. Not that he’s complaining. It feels nice.
Really nice.
“I’m a cuddler.” She explains, and he’s almost positive there’s a twinge of nervousness to her voice.
Okay, maybe he’s not the only one feeling the post-sex pressure of ‘what next?’.
Reggie nuzzles her hair and flexes his palm against her belly, idly dipping his ring finger into the space of her bellybutton. “So…” he drawls out against her hair, silently wondering to himself how she keeps her skin so soft. “You up for round two?”
Betty snorts.
… … …
When Reggie wakes up, he stiffens at the feel of a body pressed against his own but within the fraction of a second, the prior night’s memory hits him like a freight train. Blonde hair is stuck to the drool on his lip and he tries to wiggle his arm out from under her before the pain of a sleeping limb shoots up into his shoulder.
‘Fuuuu-‘ he mouths silently to himself, shaking the appendage as it statics back into normalcy.
Betty stirs beside him and he freezes, not moving an inch in fear of waking her. At the bruising love-bites scattered along her back and waist, he feels an almost primal surge of territorial self-satisfaction. Their night had definitely been made the most of—and he can’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed now that morning’s arrived.
Since he can’t function without coffee, he pulls the nearest pair of sweats on and stumbles out of the bedroom with a poorly concealed yawn. The creaks and cracks of the wood beneath him are more noticeable now that he’s trying to be quiet, and eventually he just gives up trying to be silent all together.
Just as the coffee is finished brewing, Reggie pauses at the cupboard, frowning at the lack of dishes he has. He’s never really had to make coffee for someone else, so he’s got one mug. He swipes it off the cupboard and then grabs the only other glass cup he owns—a measuring cup.
Betty can have the mug.
Just as he’s about to pour her coffee, she’s sprinting into the living room, naked as the day she was born and looking frantic as a bat out of hell.
His eyes widen and his head cocks to the side, admiring her form. She’s got runner’s legs. And runner’s ass. Damn, he could leave marks on those as well…
“—bra! Oh, nevermind, got it!”
She yanks her clothing on and it’s then he’s hit with an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. Oh shit. Is this the part she runs out and says it was nice catching up but there’s really nothing else for them to stay in touch for? It’s not like he knew she’d been living in Baltimore, same as him for the past two years! Hell, if he’d known she was so close by, he’d have contacted her—even just to reunite as a couple of old friends.
It may slip by a lot of people’s attention, but he can be sentimental when he wants to.
Shit, she’s still talking—he tries to listen as she turns expectedly toward him.
“Reggie?”
“You know,” He folds his arms and gives his best coquettish smile, hoping she won’t realize he hadn’t been paying attention to her. “I think my name sounds a lot better when you say it. Preferably when you’re screami—”
“Oh, my god!” she cries out as her phone bursts into tune. Pulling her shirt on, she ruffles her hair and completely ignores his dirty remark as she stuffs the cell into her pocket, silencing it. “I’m so sorry, I have to go.”
His stomach drops.
Feigning nonchalance, he shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, no problem. I’ve got a meeting in a couple hours anyway, and besides—”
She shuts him up with a kiss and his heart races when she pulls away with a tender look in her eye. Damn those blue eyes of hers.
“I promised one of my students I’d help with a project her parents arranged for her.” She gives an explanation, though he knows she really doesn’t owe him one. “It was sweet of you to make me coffee, but raincheck for now?”
Reggie blinks at her, licking his lips as the faint blush on her cheeks sends his pulse racing. “Raincheck. Sure.”
“…Maybe for tomorrow morning?” she asks, gazing up at him through her lashes shyly.
His confidence comes back in full force and a smirk stretches over his face at her demeanor. “Well, well, well.” He crosses his arms over his bare chest. “Betty Cooper coming to Reggie Mantle for a booty call? I’m more than just a piece of meat, you know.”
“Then let’s upgrade the booty call into a date.” She quirks a brow, not missing a beat with her quick responses. “Pick me up at six?”
Reggie inhales sharply, a witty retort stolen from his lips at her coy expression.
Shit.
She’s good.
If he wasn’t so swept up in whatever magic she’s got surrounding her, he’d ask for pointers. “Uh, sure.” He nods, leaning back against the counter while trying to gain some semblance of the power back in this banter between them. “Yes. Six o’ clock. I’ll be there, gorgeous.”
“Great!” she beams, winding him once more as she stretches up and places a soft kiss onto his lips before pulling away and rushing toward the door. With one last look over her shoulder, she’s out and gone from view.
It’s only after a moment of gathering his thoughts that Reggie realizes he has absolute no idea what her number is or where ‘there’ is to be picking her up at. Shit!
Wait.
Just as he moves to follow her, the tickle of fabric against his abs pauses him mid-step.
Holy…
Reggie pulls the panties he’d ripped off of her the night before from his waistband and sees a sticky note plastered to it with a number written out in lipstick.
He’ll be goddamed. Betty Cooper…
She’s really good.