Chapter 21

George stepped onto the dimly lit porch of the sorority house and turned to look at Burt with a smile.

"Thanks for the coffee," George said. "The night didn't blow as bad as I thought it was going to."

"Ah, you know just the things to say to have men falling at your feet," Burt said sarcastically and she gave a small laugh.

There was a slight hesitation and then she looked up at him. "When you asked why I hated you and I said I didn't… I kind of lied."

Burt sucked in a breath, placed his hands firmly in his pockets and braced himself. "Okay…"

"It's not exactly that I hated you, per say. It's more that I hated what you represented. I thought that you would think that I was just this pathetic loser friend of Nancy's that you were doing this whole huge favor for. So I made damn sure that you knew that this whole date thing was definitely not my idea. This was, of course, back when I thought that we'd been set up for a blind date."

"But you're fine with me now, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Just one more question. I mean, technically we were both being set up on a blind date. So, why would I have thought that you were the pathetic loser?" Burt asked.

George scoffed. "Have you looked in a mirror recently? Goddamn, look at you. You're smoking. You've got the eyes, the body, the smile, the hair, the freaking halo practically. And, on top of that, you turn out to be this amazing kisser who-"

His interruption, unlike hers, was not abrupt and impulsive. It had been thought through meticulously and was, for that one reason, much more dangerous. His kiss was soft and tantalizing, the slight pressure of his mouth against hers teasing. It created a heady, sweaty air around them, but gave her enough time to think and part her lips, kissing him back. The kiss deepened, wonderfully deep, and he pulled her closer. The softness was replaced by a sudden urgency that they were both all too willing to comply with. She held on tightly to his crisp, white shirt, wrinkling it beneath her eager fingers. He had only one hand on the smooth satin of her hip. Finally, Burt pulled up, but didn't pull away. His forehead was lightly touching hers, blond hair meshing with black. He waited the few long seconds it took for George to open her eyes and met her gaze, holding it tauntingly.

"Sorry," he said, the smile in his voice telling her that he didn't mean it at all.

"Oh, shut up," George replied, her fingers intertwining in the thick blond locks and pulling him down by the nape of his neck again.

He followed along complacently and kissed her again. This time, his other hand snaked out of his pocket and he held her to him desperately, the feel of his fingers pressing into her exposed back driving them both wild. They lost themselves to this for another few, long minutes, then pulled back, slightly breathless.

"So, can I call you tomorrow morning?" Burt asked.

George desperately wanted to say something sarcastic and cutting, but she was still hazy from the kiss. The air around her head was too thick, his presence too overpowering and the only thing she could think to respond was a raspy, breathy, "Sure."

Burt gave a pleased, knowing smile. "I'll call you," he said softly, detangling himself from her and stepping back.

"Sure," George repeated, a goofy grin spreading over her face. It wasn't until he was a couple of paces away and the air began to clear that she realized something. "Don't you need my number, Fabio?"

"I can get your number," Burt replied confidently, opening his car door without turning.

"Want to bet on that, Casanova?" George taunted, cocking an eyebrow.

Burt froze, open door in hand. He closed the car door, turned and walked back. He stopped dangerously close and looked down at her. She didn't waver.

"I'm intrigued," he said. "Go on."

"I'll bet you dinner tomorrow night that you can't get my number by morning," George said in a low voice, swallowing the school-girl butterflies in her stomach.

Burt said nothing for a few seconds. Then, he slowly leaned down, stopping just centimeters away from her mouth, so close that she could just feel his lips when he spoke.

"I'll bet you breakfast and two dinners… that I can," he whispered.

George gave a small smile, her eyes darting to meet his gaze. "You're on."

He reciprocated her smile and closed the minimal gap between them. He held for a short, sweet kiss as a confirmation of the bet, broke, pressed his lips to hers once more, then parted. Burt walked back to his car with a flick of his wrist at her over his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow morning," he called back.

"Yeah, we'll see," George replied.

She watched, biting her lip, until his taillights disappeared towards his fraternity, then turned and ran into the sorority house. The girls had left the dorm unlocked for her and she absently closed the door behind herself. She burst frantically into her dorm and into one of the rooms.

"Nancy! Nancy, get up," she said in an urgent voice. She shook her sleeping friend.

"What? What?" Nancy called, opening her eyes and looking up at her friend, scared and confused.

"You need to call Ned," George told her, a desperate look in her eyes.

"What? Why? What happened?" Nancy asked, frightened.

"You need to call Ned and give him my number," George urged.

Nancy groaned and sagged back onto her pillow. "Why the hell do I have to do that?"

"Because I won't let you sleep until you do. Come on, please! It's important."

"Fine. God, I hate you. You're such a douche bag," Nancy murmured angrily, grabbing the phone that was lying beside her on the bed and pressing down a speed dial number.

George scoffed. "And then you say you're not dating," she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

"You want me to do this or not?" Nancy threatened and George gave a pleading smile. "Ned? Hey. Yeah, I know its super late, but George just burst in and…"

Nancy stalled as George waved her arms frantically, giving her signals not to explain.

"…and, uh, I remembered that I, um… I forgot to bring my charger and my phone is about to die… Yes, yes it is odd that George would inspire such thoughts… Anyway, look, just take down her cell number so that you can call me later. Yeah. Ready? It's 555-4674. Okay, great. Good night." She glared up at George. "Happy?"

"Extremely," George said, kissing Nancy's cheek ecstatically. "Thank you. I love you."

Nancy just raised her middle finger and George laughed, practically skipping out of the room.

"Hey, wait, hold on," Nancy called, propping herself up on one elbow as George opened the door to go. "What's going on?"

George paused, a smile slowly creeping across her face brightly. "I just lost a bet."

Nancy watched her friend go, confused, then sighed and flopped back onto her pillow.

George muttered angrily as the sound of her phone ringing brought her out of her deep stupor. She grabbed at it, eyes still closed and wretched it open, cursing under her breath.

"So," a welcome, familiar voice said over the phone. "Do you like pancakes or French toast?"

An instant smile spread over her face as she remembered the events of last night.

"I like anything that is off campus," George replied.

Burt grinned. "French toast it is."

George was supposed to meet Burt next to the gym where the dance had been last night. She was cutting across one of the playing fields where there were several students congregated, talking about last night's game and gossiping. George was just walking by a gaggle of girls, flipping their ponytails and smacking their gum when something they said made her slow down and listen.

"-can't believe it. It's got to be fake," one of the girls said.

"I swear it! I heard him myself! Burt Eddleton is gay."

George almost swallowed her tongue. Gay? He sure as hell didn't look gay. Didn't kiss gay either.

"What do you mean you heard him? He told you?"

"Paul Finks was asking him if he was seeing anyone lately and Burt was totally like, 'Sort of.' And then Paul was like, 'Oh my God, give me the name, bro.' And Burt was like, 'George Fayne.'"

"Oh my God!" the three girls squealed, giggling. George lowered her head a little and hid a blush.

"What a waste," one of them said, blowing a bubble. "Burt's hot as shit."

"Yeah. Guess he finally ran out of girls. Had to stoop to dating guys."

The girls giggled again and George hurried on. Burt was waiting in his car. He opened the door for her.

"Hey," he said with a mind-blowing smile. "What took you so long?"

George shrugged, leaning back in the seat of his car. "Traffic."

Burt looked confused, but said nothing. He drove through the town and can to a stop at a small, sleepy breakfast and lunch restaurant and parked. He parked, came around, and opened the door for her with a smile. They went inside.

George didn't even try to think up something to say, she was concentrating too hard on making it appear like she was breathing normally. What switch had flipped in her head? Last night, he had been this burden, this absolute terror and she did very well ignoring him and his raw sexuality. But now she felt like she was almost orbiting around him, his pull too strong to resist. She watched, entranced as he gave a casual, beautiful smile to the hostess and then looked at her, the smile more meaningful and he motioned for her to go in front. She sat at the table, giving the hostess a little nod of acknowledgment. The high-schooler was looking over Burt and trying to suppress her urge to drool. She gave George a smile of approval and then left them alone.

Burt sat down in front of her and watched as she opened the menu to glance at the entrees.

"So," he started casually. "Do you always throw bets or am I just special?"

George looked up suddenly, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She feigned innocence. "What?"

Burt gave a little grin. "Yeah, okay."

"I don't know what you mean. I lost the bet. How did you get my number anyway?"

Burt played along. "From Ned."

George made an appropriately long pause. "Shit. I forgot he had my number."

"Yeah," Burt said, scratching at an initial carved into the wood of the table with his thumb. "I just thought it was odd, you know?"

"What was odd?"

"The fact that he was grumbling about this being the second time he was woken up for your 'stupid number.' I got a little curious and asked what all that was about. He said that Nancy had called not ten minutes ago to give him your number. Yeah, she said that he wanted him to be able to get in contact with him and her phone was dying. Turns out she forgot her phone charger. The same phone charger he helped her unpack and plug in two mornings ago." He looked her straight in the eye as he finished off his sentence.

She avoided his gaze and shoved her face into the menu. "So what are you going to get?"

Burt just gave a little laugh and grabbed his own menu. They ordered after that, handing the menus over to the overly peppy waiter. Their drinks were brought out soon afterwards.

After the initial awkwardness disappeared for George, the date became really enjoyable. Burt was hilarious and sarcastic, two things she liked a lot about him and he seemed really genuine. She started telling him stories of her and Nancy and Bess when they were kids and the stupid scams they'd get into. She managed to make him laugh until his sides hurt.

"This has to be the best date I've ever been on," Burt said, still laughing.

George hesitated, focusing intently on the cup of hot chocolate in front of her. "I'm flattered… especially since I've heard that there've been a whole lot of them."

Burt took in a deep breath and ran his finger over the rim of his orange juice. "Yeah, well… resentful news travels quickly, I see."

George laughed and waved his black mood away. "Don't look so damn worried. I don't care. What? Am I supposed to expect that you've never gone on a date before me? I've been a quite a few myself, most of them… well, shitty, but whatever. Besides, do I really look like the kind of person who cares about that kind of bullshit? I'm fine with it. I didn't expect monogamy on our first date. Well, our first real date. And anyway, I'm not exactly the type to go home and worry about when you're going to call me."

"But I want you to," he said quickly, meeting her gaze, something urgent and pleading in his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Kind of selfish, aren't you?"

"You know what I mean," he said, shaking his head seriously, but never breaking her gaze. He hesitated nervously and licked his lips before speaking again. "Okay, look. I know that this is going to sound like a pile of pretentious horseshit, which is why I intentionally wanted to hold off on it for a while more until I was certain that you were in too deep to pull out, but… the truth is, I like you. I like you a lot. As in, I have never liked someone so much I've wanted an actual relationship with them, but I do with you.

"Something has to be right when I couldn't breathe when I saw you for the first time on the field and I still get nervous talking to you because I know that I must sound like a total idiot asshole. So, yeah, I want you to go home and wonder when I going to call. I want you to worry when it isn't in the next two hours. I want to date you. Not go on dates with you, date you, like exclusively. Just me and you. Kind of like Ned and Nancy, only, you know, actually admitting to it. I mean, you can always pull out if you don't like where it's going."

George hesitated, biting her lip and wondering what in the world to say. She could feel his eyes on her. He watched her, waiting, a vice tightening over his heart, making it hard to breathe as she dragged the seconds out in silence. Finally, she looked up, met his worried gaze and gave a bright, clear, devious smile.

"I do love a great escape," she said in a taunting tone.

He threw a hash brown at her. "Stupid punk."