Betty starts her new job at Gerald's garage the following Wednesday. She can hardly contain her excitement as she gets ready for her first day. She dresses in a similar get up as she had upon her "interview," this time opting for a grey ribbed tank rather than white. After tying her hair back in a loose braid that falls over her shoulder, she grabs her key's and rushes out the door with a huge smile on her face.
"Whoa baby," Sweet Pea cat calls, whistling at her as she enter the garage. "You want to check my drive shaft baby girl."
"Oh do I ever," she teases, "and after I can ram a dipstick so far up your ass it'll come out your nose."
Sweet Pea's eyes go wide, a snorted laugh sounding from behind her as a sly grin crosses his lips.
"Don't threaten me with a good time," he teases, laughing to himself as he returns to the office he'd appeared from.
Upon turning around, she runs smack into someone, her hands pressing hard against a sturdy chest as an arm steadies her with a firm grip around her waist. Her breath catches as she glances up at him, her Serpent prince grinning smugly down at her. She quickly rights herself, offering only a tight lipped smile before hurrying off to find something to do with a heated blush on her cheeks.
Betty's first week on the job goes smoothly. Tall Boy, Sweet Pea's uncle and now her boss, was more than willing to work with her school schedule, allowing her to work before and after class, or whichever of her choosing. Already, she feels like she's making progress, on her way to having the job she's always wanted. Sure, for now, she's stuck doing oil changes and wiper replacements, but she's certain once Tall Boy realizes her worth she'll be getting better jobs. Aside from Sweet Pea's constant teasing that borders on sexual harassment, the guys are all good to her. Tall Boy often asks her to assist him, explaining what he does as he does it. He reminds her a lot of her father and she finds herself missing him often. Though Sweet Pea can be a bit off handed, he's patient with her and isn't afraid to call her out when she makes a mistake. Fangs, the youngest of them all is a senior at Southside High. He works three days a week after school, mostly taking phone calls and organizing things around the shop. His infatuation with Betty is remnant of an excitable puppy and she finds him absolutely adorable. That just leaves her Serpent prince, the guy she's been ogling for months and only just this week has learned his name. Going right along with the theme of unusual nicknames in the shop, Jughead was added to her list of odd names to remember. As if she could forget. Jughead, unlike the others, isn't so eager to talk. He keeps to himself, works quietly, and is mostly silent aside from an occasional laugh or snicker in response to conversation around him.
Of all the men she could choose to learn from on a daily basis, Betty prefers to watch Jughead work. Not only for the obvious reason that she can blatantly check him out without question, but because she likes to watch his hands. He has large hands and long nimble fingers that move with such ease. She finds them far too beautiful for such dirty work and she could watch them all day. She's noticed his hands before, the way they flick easily between the keys on his laptop as he types, but she'd never spent so much time just staring at them. She can't help but wonder what else those long fingers can do.
At the start if another week, Betty dresses for warm weather as the forecast predicted. Her classes are usually sweltering with all the bodies and running machinery and the shop is equally as hot. She opts to wear her favorite cut offs, the ones she'd cut too short to spite her mother a few years back and pairs them with a navy blue cami. Slipping on her work boots, she tosses her long waves over her shoulder and hurries out the door.
Class goes on as expected until one of her classmates manages to get his fingers caught between a rim and tire during a standard tire change. The whole class stood by, trying their best not to laugh as the poor guy hissed and winced while their instructor pried the tire from the rim with various tools. He'd escaped with some bruising and sure to be sore knuckles and class was dismissed early.
"You are never gonna guess what happened today," Betty chuckles as she bounces to where Sweet Pea is rolled under a pick up.
"What's that baby girl," he questions with intrigue, his voice strained as he tugs hard on something under the truck.
Betty proceeds to tell him about the guy getting his fingers wedged between the rim and tire and grins to herself as he laughs under the truck.
"Should have got it on video," he chuckles. "Hand me that?"
"Awe, why didn't I think of that," she whines, handing him the wrench he'd asked for.
It's not long before Betty finds herself rolled beneath the truck beside him, watching intently and assisting as he requests tools to be handed over. He finishes up quickly, the two of them sliding out from under the truck to get some water out of the mini fridge in the office.
"Hey, uh," Sweet Pea begins, sipping at his water before continuing. "Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?"
"Oh, uhm-"
"Yea, it was a stupid idea," he shrugs, looking down at the water bottle in his hand.
"No, Pea, it wasn't," she assures him. "I'm just not old enough to go to a bar or anything."
"Sure you are," he grins.
Betty nods, agreeing to go with him after work, and she's interested to see how he plans to get her nineteen year old ass into a bar.
After work, Betty hurries home to get ready for her night out with Sweet Pea. She has a little over an hour before he plans to pick her up and she doesn't remember the last time she was this excited. While searching for something to wear, Betty gasps, the sudden realization that Pea had meant this to be a date turning her excitement into a knot in her gut. It's too late to back out now and she just hopes she'll be able to convey her disinterest without hurting him or ruining their friendship. He really is sweet and any girl would be lucky to have him, but she has her heart set on a different dark haired Serpent.
A knock at the door startles Betty from her stare down with a water bottle in the kitchen. Snapping out of it, she glances down at her outfit once more. She'd opted for something casual, just a pair of darkwash skinny jeans and a black tank paired with her favorite black chucks. It's far more modest than she would usually dress for a night out, but Sweet Pea could make a potato sack feel too revealing. Chuckling to herself, she opens the door.
"Hey princess," he grins, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. "You ready to go?"
"Yea," she nods, "Just let me grab my wallet." She leaves him in the doorway and runs back to the kitchen counter to grab her small change purse, containing some cash and her debit card, and tucks it into her back pocket. She returns to where Sweet Pea is waiting, locks the door behind her and they head down the three flights of stairs to the street.
"No way," she exclaims, shaking her head as she glares at the motorcycle Sweet Pea has straddled.
"Awe come on blondie, live a little," he teases.
With a heavy sigh, Betty takes his outstretched hand and carefully gets on behind him. "This is the way I die," she mutters to herself.
Sweet Pea chuckles, his abdomen shaking beneath her hands as the bike roars to life.
"I got you," he assures her, bringing her arms more snugly around his waist before they begin to move.
Betty never thought she would find herself literally plastered to any man's back, but here she is, her cheek pressed against leather as she fists the front of Sweet Pea's t-shirt so hard her knuckles have gone white. She can feel his laughter when her grip tightens on every bend or corner, but she's surprised by how much she actually trusts him.
When they finally make it to their destination, Sweet Pea can't help but laugh at her refusal to let go of him. The ground still feels like it's moving beneath her and she's pretty sure the pins and needles in her legs mean they'll work about as well as a couple of overcooked spaghetti noodles. When she finally lets go, Sweet Pea helps her off, giving her a moment to find her footing. In a surprisingly sweet gesture, he runs his fingers through the ends of her hair, smoothing out her windblown locks with a gentle smile on his lips.
"Thanks," she near whispers, a shy smile touching tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tucks her hair back behind one of her ears.
Sweet Pea offers her his hand, which she takes easily and follows him towards the bar that reads The Whyte Wyrm, illuminated dimly by a few ancient light bulbs.
Inside, Betty takes immediate notice that nearly every person in the bar dons a Serpent on their back, some patched on vests, others on jackets like Pea's.
"No one's gonna mess with you," Sweet Pea promises in a gentle tone upon sensing her tension.
Betty offers an uncertain grin, allowing him to tug her close with a strong arm around her waist as they reach the bar.
"You must be Betty," the Pink haired bartender greets. "Pea hasn't been able to shut up about you for weeks."
"Toni," he clips, his brow heavy as he glares. "Ignore her," he pleads and Betty can't help but laugh.
"What do you want princess," Toni inquires with a smile.
"Bourbon, neat," she says with confidence, earning raised brows from both Toni and Sweet Pea. "What," she shrugs.
Toni shakes her head, chuckling to herself as she pours her glass and slides it in front of her.
The two of them watch her intently as she takes a sip, feeling the burn warm her from the back of her tongue to the pit of her stomach without so much as a grimace.
"Well shit," Sweet Pea laughs.
"My dad used to hide a bottle in the ceiling in our basement that my mother didn't know about," she explains. "Cue rebellious teenage phase and you get a preppy Northside chick with a taste for cheap bourbon."
Sweet Pea laughs, ringing an arm playfully around her neck. "You're just full of surprises aren't you blondie?"
Betty only shrugs, grinning as she sips on her drink.
As the night goes on, Betty is pleasantly surprised by how much fun she's having. She'd been worried things would be awkward with the realization that this is a date, but Sweet Pea has been nothing but his usual playful self. As they chat at the bar, swapping childhood horror stories and their most embarrassing moments, the bar suddenly falls silent, the music playing overhead making it all the more eerie. Every eye in the place is drawn to the back hallway where a lethal looking Jughead has entered the bar.
"As you were," he waives them off, the uproar of chatter commencing as he makes his way to the bar.
"What the hell was that," Betty questions under her breath.
"Jug doesn't come down here much," he explains. "It's usually bad news, but I guess he's just drinking tonight."
"Bad news," she questions, leaning in closer to Pea as he glances around for listening ears.
"We aren't exactly law abiding citizens," Jughead's familiarly husky tone breathes against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and urges her thighs to clench tightly together.
"You drinking tonight," Sweet Pea asks, his eyes filled with apology for almost spilling information to Betty.
"I'll have what she's having," he nods to the glass in Betty's hand.
Sweet Pea nods, getting up to round the bar and fill his glass while Toni is dealing with someone at the other end.
"Word of advice," he says as he leans down to catch Betty's gaze. "Don't ask questions you're not prepared to hear the answer to."
It takes a moment for her heart to stop racing from the way his stormy blue eyes are locked with hers, but she finally breaks away to drive a hard glare back at him.
"I'm a big girl Jughead," she scolds. "I don't scare so easily."
Sweet Pea returns, handing Jughead his drink which he proceeds to throw back, his scowl matched with Betty's as he slams his empty glass down on the bar top. Without another word, he walks off leaving Betty in a state of confusion, annoyance, and god damn it, so incredibly turned on.
Betty and Sweet Pea fall back into easy conversation, brushing off Jughead's intrusion, but Betty can't help but keep an eye on him across the bar. He hasn't stopped looking at her since he'd walked away, leaned back against the wall by the pool table with a stupid smug grin.
"You want to play," Sweet Pea asks, assuming her eyes are on the two men finishing up their game.
"Oh. No, I don't want to make a fool of myself," she laughs.
"So you can drink bourbon like its water, but you're afraid of a little game of pool," he chuckles.
"Im not afraid," she glares.
"Ooh, struck a nerve," he laughs. "Come on Blondie, one game."
"Fine," she huffs. "What are the stakes?"
"Hmm, you want to play for prizes," he teases with a wiggle of his brows.
"Well it's no fun if I get nothing out of kicking your ass," she laughs, sticking out her tongue as she heads for the pool table.
"Alright baby girl," Sweet Pea grins as he wraps an arm around her shoulders from behind, his breath tickling at her ear. "Name your price."
"Hmm," she hums thoughtfully, drawing a shuttered breath from him as she presses her ass firmly against his front. "I win and you're banned from making bad car related propositions at work."
"Where's the fun in that," he whines.
"Those are my terms," she grins, turning in his arms to lean back on the now vacant pool table, "what are yours?"
"A kiss," he says simply. "I win and I want a dirty kiss, with lots of tongue, maybe even grab my junk," he suggests.
Betty rolls her eyes. "Really," she laughs.
"Hey, you have your desires and I have mine," he laughs. "We have a deal or not?"
"Deal," she grins, offering her hand to seal it with a proper handshake.
As they begin to play, it's immediately obvious that Sweet Pea is going to win. Betty has clearly never played pool in her life, but he's got to give her credit for trying.
Out of nowhere, a large body presses against Betty's back as she's bent over the table, trying to line up her shot. A pair of strong arms lay over hers, adjusting her stance easily and she immediately recognizes his long fingers as they curl around hers.
"Hit the center," he breathes against her ear. "Nice and gentle, too hard and you're gonna scratch."
Entirely flustered by the prickle of heat his breath brings along her neck and the prominent bulge pressed firmly against her ass, Betty swallows hard, only nodding in reply to his suggestion. She follows his lead, drawing her arm back and hitting the center of the cue ball with a gentle force. It rolls forward, knocking her ball straight into the pocket before stopping just shy of falling in itself.
"Aah," she squeals, dropping the pool stick to wrap her arms around Jughead's neck as she beams with excitement. Jughead laughs, holding her flush against him with one arm as he steadies himself with the other hand on the pool table.
"Awe come on no fair," Sweet Pea complains.
"Oh let her have it," Jughead laughs, letting her back down to her feet on the floor.
"Fine," Sweet Pea sighs. He's not really upset that she got a ball in, he's still going to win, but fucking Jughead. He just manhandled the hell out of her and she clearly didn't hate it.
"Thank you," Betty mutters shyly, nervously tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she eyes him from beneath her lashes.
Jughead says nothing, only releases her lip from her teeth with the pad of his thumb before disappearing outside.
Regardless of Jughead's help, Sweet Pea wins by a landslide. Betty rolls her eyes as he grins proudly from across the table.
"Think you owe me a kiss baby girl," he teases, ditching his pool stick to drag her by the wrist through the bar.
In the back hallway that Jughead had surfaced from earlier, he backs her against a wall out of sight of the rest of the bar. Betty glances up at him, his stance closing her in as he cranes his neck down to hers.
"I was just kidding about having to feel me up," he tells her honestly. "But I would like to kiss you."
Betty only manages a nod before his lips are on hers. It's soft and tender and when he pulls away he rests his head against hers.
"Go," he tells her, nodding his head in the direction of the front exit.
"What," she questions breathlessly.
"I see the way you look at him," he tells her, her face falling into an expression of guilt and apology. "It's ok. I just wanted to know what that was like before I missed my chance."
"You're a good guy," she smiles sweetly, kissing him on the cheek.
"Don't tell anyone," he calls after her, earning a grin over her shoulder as she heads for the door.
Outside, Betty spots Jughead leaned back coolly against the brick with a cigarette between his fingers. With a deep breath she makes a slow approach, leaning back on the brick beside him. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, bringing his smoke to his lips to untie the flannel around his waist. He hands it to her and she offers a shy smile as a thank you before pulling it on over her goosebump chilled skin. It smells strongly of his cologne and a bit like cigarettes and motor oil and she tries to commit it to memory without being too obvious.
"Where's Pea," he questions suddenly, his voice low and raspy.
"Inside," she shrugs, chancing a sideways glance at him as he drops his cigarette to the pavement, stubbing it out with his boot.
In an instant, he's in front of her, his hands sliding down her arms to pin them above her head. She lets a pitiful squeak as he forces his hips against hers, his lips sucking at the pulse in her neck. The desire to touch him is almost unbearable, but he won't allow it. Once he's satisfied with the purple bruise on her neck, he kisses her jaw, releasing her and urging her back inside with a slap to her ass. Betty has absolutely no idea what the hell just happened, but she does as she's told, making a beeline for the bar.
Sweet Pea makes his way over to her, a lethal expression on his face as he grabs her jaw in his hand, tilting her head to examine the mark on her neck.
"Asshole," he grumbles as he drops into the barstool beside her. "Let me take you home."
"What? Why," she clips.
"Cuz I don't want to watch you go upstairs with him," he says lowly, a vulnerability in his eyes that she's never seen before.
"Ok," she sighs, allowing him to lead her back outside.
"Hey," Jughead calls roughly, trailing behind them as they cross the parking lot to Sweet Pea's bike.
Sweet Pea stops mid stride, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning around to face Jughead.
"You already marked her, I get it," he sighs. "I just want to take her home and lick my wounds? Can you give me that?"
Jughead hesitates, glancing over to where Betty is waiting at his bike before giving a curt nod and retreating back to the bar.
"What the hell was that," Betty asks for what seems like the hundredth time tonight.
"You just snagged yourself a highly territorial boyfriend," he explains as he gets on his bike, offering Betty s hand behind him.
"Boyfriend," she exclaims. "He's hardly my boyfriend."
"You let him mark you" he laughs humorlessly as he kicks his bike to life.
Sweet Pea drops Betty off in front of her apartment. She insists that he can come up if he wants to, but he declines regardless of his desire to do so. Betty leaves him with a kiss on the cheek, glancing over her shoulder at his saddened expression before heading inside.
The next morning, Betty walks into work with a fire under her ass. She makes her way across the garage, ignoring Tall Boy's good morning and walking straight up to Jughead, slapping him hard across the face. He grabs her wrist, his jaw tensing before he tugs her flush against him.
"I deserved that," he says gruffly before kissing her hard on the mouth.
Betty pushes hard against him, but he holds her firmly in place until she relaxes in his hold. She begins to melt into the kiss, her lips parting to allow him entrance, but he pulls away, a scowl on his brow.
"Apologize," he demands, loosening his grip on her wrists just slightly.
Betty glares, "I'm sorry."
"Good girl," he praises. "Sedan in the back needs new brake pads. Get to it."
Betty scowls hard as he releases her, rolling out her stiff wrists before storming off in the direction of the Sedan.
The day goes by at an agonizingly slow rate as Betty scolds herself for enjoying her altercation with Jughead.
"Shit blondie. What's got your panties in a bunch," Sweet Pea chuckles as Betty chucks her wrench, the metal clanging against the cement as she drops her head into her hands. Sweet Pea takes a seat beside her, yanking her by the ankle to wrap her up in a firm hug.
"Who the hell does he think he is," she grits.
"Ah," he nods, "you try to tell him off I take it.
"There was no try about it," she huffs, getting up from the floor to dust off the seat of her pants. "I straight up slapped him across the face."
"Oh baby girl, you've just added fuel to his fire," he laughs. "He gets off on that shit."
"Yea, I got that when he stuck his tongue down my throat," she grumbles.
"You really want him to back off," Sweet Pea questions doubtfully.
"I don't know," she shrugs. "God, he's such a fucking asshole."
"You like it," Sweet Pea argues, urging her to glare at him. "Don't give me that shit. You loved it didn't you?"
"Fuck you," she grits, storming off for the second time that day to get a water from the office.
"Dammit," she curses under her breath, stopping dead in the doorframe as Jughead lowers his water bottle from his lips. A shit eating grin stretches across his face as he approaches her, tugging her inside and locking the door behind her. She watches him carefully, her features set into a heavy scowl as he pulls the blinds on the window that looks into the garage.
Before she can even register what's happening, he has her hoisted up on the desk, papers falling to the floor as his hands fist into her hair. He devours her mouth, his tongue teasing and his teeth nipping, drawing breathless moans as he forces his hard on against her middle. As if they have a mind of their own, her finger make their way to his waistband, tugging at the button, but he's quick to stop her with a hand at her throat.
"Did I say you could touch that," he grits, urging her to shake her head as she removes her hands. "Good girl," he praises, releasing her throat to soothe her skin with gentle kisses.
Betty relaxes into his touch, shivering with every brush of his lips to her skin. She feels like she's on fire, both wanting to shove him off and pull him closer as he does as he pleases. With a quick hand, he tugs her shorts down, her hips lifting eagerly to help him before he forces her thighs apart. Her breath comes out shaky against his lips as he smiles into the kiss, his fingers dancing along her slit over her soaked panties. He brings his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply and letting a quiet groan at the scent of his cologne on her skin.
"You sleep in my shirt," he questions, his voice deep and husky as he applies a delicious pressure to her swollen bud with the pads of his fingers.
"Maybe," she replies, whining at the loss of contact as he takes a step back.
"Did you or didn't you," he demands.
"Yes, fucking yes," she breathes, reaching for him to come back. She cries out loud, earning a hand cupped over her mouth as he forcefully inserts two fingers into her waiting heat.
"Fuck you're wet," he groans, curling his fingers inside her to hear her cry out once more.
"Oh fuck," she moans, sitting up further to capture his lips. He allows her to kiss him, only for a moment before removing his fingers and forcing her down from the desk. On her knees at his feet she rocks her hips, squeezing her thighs together in a dire need for stimulation. She watches with hooded eyes as he drops his fly, fisting his thick erection above her.
"You want this," he questions smugly, earning an eager nod from Betty as he strokes himself from base to tip.
With a firm grip in her hair, he urges her to rise on her knees and rubs the head of his cock against her swollen lips. She sucks him into her mouth, earning a hiss as he pulls her back.
"I didn't say you could have it yet," he scolds, releasing his hold on her hair to tuck himself away. "Get dressed," he orders, then abruptly exits the office, leaving the door wide open behind him.
"Asshole," she grits, glaring hard at her shorts on the floor. She quickly puts them on, straightening herself out before storming out of the office.
"I'm going home," she calls angrily as she passes a stunned Tall Boy on her way out.
"The fuck was that," Tall Boy questions the boys, earning shrugs from each of them. Tall Boy only shakes his head, muttering, "Women," under his breath as he returns to the rusted muffler on his work bench.
"What did you do to her," Sweet Pea grits, poking Jughead hard in the chest.
"I didn't do shit," he grits. "Fuck's it matter to you?"
"Because, I actually like her and for whatever reason she'd rather play your fucking games," he grits. "What do you want from her anyways? You want to fuck her? Make her think she matters and dump her like every other bitch you've had in your bed?"
"Don't act like you know what I want," he growls. "You had your chance. She doesn't want you. Now fuck off."
Sweet Pea's jaw clenches, his teeth grinding together. "Fuck this shit," he yells, throwing the wrench he'd been holding to the ground with a loud crash before storming out of the garage.
Jughead stands there practically seething as Tall Boy approaches him.
"Go," he waives him off. "The three of you better get your shit straightened out before Monday."
Jughead only nods, his fists clenched as he storms out much the same as the two before him.
Back in her apartment, Betty has baked nearly three dozen chocolate chip cookies, a pan of brownies, and drunk herself through an entire bottle of wine. She's done everything she can possibly think of to keep Jughead off her mind, but he's like a disease, flooding her veins with symptoms of lust and desire. To think she'd thought he was just this shy quiet type back when she'd worked at Pop's. She always thought he was just reserved or something, she'd never have guessed he was a snarky asshole who gets off on manipulating her desires. Who the fuck does he think he is?
A few blocks away, in the Sunnyside Trailer Park, Sweet Pea sits in front of the TV with an empty six pack at his side and cold one in his hand. He'd thought for sure he and Betty had connected. She just gets him and he feels like an idiot for thinking there could have been something more between them. He still stands by the decision he'd made at the bar last night. Sure, he's upset about it, but he'd rather have her as a friend than nothing at all. He can live with just being her friend, but having to watch Jughead destroy her is something he just can't do. Of all the guys she could be interested in other than him, it just has to be Jughead. His turnaround rate is insane, he's more of a fuck em' and chuck em' kind of guy and he's hell bent on adding Betty to that list. It thoroughly pisses him off that Jughead could do that to a girl as bright and beautiful as Betty. Who the fuck does he think he is?
Across town, Jughead sits in his usual booth at Pop's, ignoring the new girl's pitiful attempts at getting his attention. He's been making this late night trip to Pop's for as long as he can remember. It's just about the only thing that got him through high school, yet it somehow feels foreign without Betty. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her, he knew he had to have her. She'd taken his order and he'd given his usual disinterested request of a black coffee. He'd waited for the flirting, for the comments of how he could possibly drink black coffee, or some flouncy attempt at asking him what he's writing, but she just nodded and made his coffee. He watched her all night, questioning why she hadn't even tried to talk to him and by the time he'd left that night he was completely beside himself. Never before had a girl been so disinterested in him and it threw him for a greater loop than he'd expected. From that night on, he'd spend his nights taking notes about her on his laptop.
The first thing he had noted was that Betty was in fact watching him. Every so often he'd catch her eye, but he could never place the look in her eyes. Betty had then begun to bring him his coffee out of habit, but she never so much as uttered a word to him. As she worked, he picked up on little things about her, foolish things he never cared to pay much mind to about any girl before her. They were things like noticing the way her tongue would glide over her lips whenever she was focusing, or the way she would habitually smooth out invisible wrinkles on her skirt. She never ate anything while working and he found it peculiar the way she would eye whatever donut or pastry was on display as if it were her arch nemesis.
Aside from her little quirks, he began to notice other things about her as well. He could always tell when she was having a good day. Her eyes would have a sparkle to them that could light up the whole room. Likewise, he could easily tell if she was having a rough day as well. There's this one particular smile, not so different from her real smile, but it's fuller, a little toothier and whenever she was in a bad mood it would be plastered on her face. He had grown to hate it and it brought on an incredible desire to either kiss it off her face or piss her off until she just couldn't fight it anymore.
Somewhere over the course of six months of watching her, Jughead realized his probably unhealthy obsession with her wasn't just honest intrigue anymore. Leave it to Sweet Pea to uproot his comfortable seat watching her from afar, only to drop her in his lap at his place of work. He did his best to ignore her for a while, but she was always watching him, always staring at his hands like she wondered what else he could do with them. He realized he just couldn't ignore her anymore and it wasn't gradual either. He'd been lying in bed, getting worked up over thinking about her big green eyes when he'd suddenly realized he hadn't slept with anyone in months. He tried to think back if he'd even had the opportunity, but who was he kidding? Of course he had. He'd gone from fucking a different girl nearly every night to a four month long dry spell. It was that moment that he knew Betty had to be his girl.
