Author's Note : Why can't she stop thinking about him? I wonder…
Disclaimer : Don't own em. Like em a lot.
Chapter Three Song Choice : "Dark Doo Wop" by MS MR
Chapter Four :
Nearly a week had gone by before she saw him again. Betty was ashamed to admit that she had looked for him; searched the face of every person who entered the diner; turned her head to the sound of any motorcycle engine that she happened to catch hint of. It never turned out to be him. She had almost convinced herself that she had imagined the whole thing. After all, could anyone really have eyes that green; a smile that affecting? Probably not. She had just been tired and annoyed with her boyfriend and had imagined some fantasy that didn't really exist. That was a perfectly valid explanation.
She was working the late shift at Pop's on the following Friday night, a source of contention between herself and Archie. He hated when she worked weekend nights. Those were times that he believed should be reserved for dates with him. Never mind that when she'd had the previous Friday off, he'd opted to go 'out with the boys.' Archie was a sweetheart, he really was, but he certainly preferred to have things his own way. Possibly the byproduct of being an only child, but there it was.
Betty on the other hand, had learned the value of hard work from a young age having been raised by two working parents with two siblings. She appreciated working on Friday nights. Tips were aplenty on Friday nights. She was able to contribute to her college savings and have a little extra that she could spend on herself. Her mother had even signed an honest to God permission slip so that she could work past midnight on weekends, since Pop's was open twenty-four hours. Normally, when she worked a Friday or Saturday (she never worked them back to back) she would come in a 6 pm for the dinner rush, take an hour dinner break at 11 pm and then work midnight to 3 am. Her feet were usually killing her by the time she got home, but she would collapse into bed and her parents always let her sleep as long as she needed to next day.
It had been approaching 1 am, most of the customers had cleared out save for a couple sipping coffee and staring longingly into each other's eyes in the back corner booth. Betty was wiping down the counter with a damp rag when the bell over the door chimed and she looked up and directly into those brilliant green eyes. He was alone tonight…and Gawd he looked good. So, she hadn't imagined that little fact after all. Good to know. Betty fought to keep her heartbeat in check and control her breathing. He wore his leather serpents jacket, a dark gray tee, fitted faded jeans that were ripped at the thighs and knees and a pair of suspenders hung loose around his hips. His thick, soft looking dark hair peeked out from beneath his gray beanie in unruly waves. Betty wanted to run her fingers through it even as she battled down the urge to smooth her hands over her own hair to make sure it was still neat and tidy. She wanted him to think she looked good too, despite the yellow Pop's uniform that she wore. Her movements came to a complete standstill when he walked directly to her, perched on one of the barstools and folded his elbows onto the countertop.
"Hi there, princess," he said on a smirk.
Betty felt her mouth open, but no sound came out…and she still hadn't moved. She shook herself out of the daze, actually physically shook her head.
"Hi!" she chirped, her voice sounding squeaky even to herself. She felt her ears get hot.
Jughead didn't know if he had ever encountered someone who blushed the way this girl did. He broke into a full-fledged grin, "You look all pretty and pink when you blush, like a strawberry."
"Great," she nodded, her eyes closing in humiliation even as she knew she was turning even redder, "Good to know. Hi, how are you this evening?"
"I'm alive."
"That's…better than the alternative, I guess."
"It is indeed," he laughed.
Jughead watched as she slid her rag to the side and leaned in toward him, bracing her elbows on the counter. She smiled prettily at him, "You know, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten we were here."
Jughead couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to…which he didn't. He leaned more across the counter as well, closing the distance between them just a little more. He could smell her scent; rose petals and rainwater. He almost laughed at the romanticism of such a thought as it was completely against his nature; not his style. He arched an eyebrow at her and hit her with what Toni referred to as his 'panty-dropper' smirk. "So, you've been thinking about me?"
The red in her cheeks deepened, but to her credit, she barely batted an eye before replying, "Only insofar as wondering if I was ever gonna have to make good on my milkshake offer."
"Ah," he leaned back, still smiling, "Always smart to keep track of one's debts."
"Exactly."
She wasn't very good at hiding her feelings, his pretty blonde target. She wanted him. She was attracted to him. This was might go down as the easiest mark he'd ever scored.
"Well, alright then. Who could ever say no to a free milkshake?"
Betty straightened her stance, keeping one hand planted on the counter, she cocked out a hip and rested her other fist there. She scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes as she stared at him, contemplative, she sized him up. She was adorable. "You strike me as a double chocolate kind of guy."
"Normally, I'd agree, princess, but I don't know," he let his own assessment of her read loud and clear in his expression, "Tonight, I'm feeling strawberries and cream."
The whoosh of air that escaped Betty's lips at those words was shaky and jagged at best. A tremble rode through her entire body and caused goosebumps to raise across her flesh as though she were cold. Quite to the contrary, the heat that his sentence had elicited made her feel as though her skin were on fire. She found her eyes darting to his hands. He had graceful, long fingered hands that looked as though they had been designed to play a musical instrument…or…other things… Basically, he had amazing hands. She could easily become obsessed with those hands.
Jughead watched his golden girl sink her straight white teeth into that full bottom lip of hers as she tilted her chin down and then looked up at him through her long, sooty eyelashes. God, he wanted to bite down on that lip. Her blush deepened. It made her look shy, sweet, innocent.
However, in Jughead's experience, no female was ever as innocent as she let herself appear to be. Case and point in Betty's instance, this was the second time they had met, he had openly flirted with her on both occasions and not once had she mentioned the fact that she had a boyfriend.
'No,' he thought with a smirk, 'the Northside princess is no innocent. She knows how the game is played and she damn well knows what she's doing with that mouth of hers.'
She cleared her throat as though trying to collect herself, "So, uh, I'll get you that shake."
Less than five minutes later, she was setting the pink dessert drink topped with a mound of whipped cream and a ripe, red strawberry on the rim in front of him. She again leaned forward, bracing herself on her elbows. He grinned. She had used her time making the shake to collect herself.
"So," she said, "you haven't actually introduced yourself to me. I don't even know your name."
"Jughead Jones."
And there it was; that flash of recognition in those wide emerald eyes that always accompanied his introduction. However, it wasn't followed by the customary fear/panic/terror…but more of intrigue. He watched her eyes dart down to the small white patch on the front of his jacket that simply read 'Prince.' Yet again, she didn't look scared; she looked curious.
"You've heard of me," he stated.
She laughed a little at his statement, "Hasn't everyone in Riverdale heard of the Jughead Jones? Should I call you 'your highness'?"
"You're great for a guy's ego, aren't you?"
"Something tells me your ego is doing just fine."
He reached out and flicked the tip of his finger across her nametag just above her left breast, with a valiant effort to resist the urge to let his finger slide just a little lower to where he knew he would find her nipple puckered in excitement, "You got a last name, Betty?"
"Cooper," she said, her voice soft, her gaze dropping quickly to his mouth before jumping back up to his eyes.
Oh, yeah. He was in. Time to seal the deal.
"Well, Betty Cooper," he plucked the strawberry from the rim of his glass and drudged it through the whipped cream before he extended it toward her lips in offering. He wanted to see her teeth sink into the supple red flesh of the fruit, "how about you let me take you on a tour of the Southside? I'll show you all the good places the Northsiders don't know about."
A quick succession of rapid blinking had Betty straightening away from the counter, away from the proffered whipped cream covered berry, away from him. Dammit. He'd miscalculated.
"Um, oh God," she said of the sudden, "I…I can't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…I handled this so…I have a boyfriend!"
"A boyfriend?" Of course this was not new information for Jughead, but he was still caught off guard. He hadn't expected her to admit it. She was obviously attracted to him. Her pupils dilated to the size of small dinner plates when she looked at him, her cheeks flushed, her breathing sped up and grew shallow; all of the signs were there, dammit! She was supposed to bat those pretty lashes, smile a coy little grin and then let him fuck her in the bathroom until she screamed his name. Instead, she was looking somewhat embarrassed and ashamed, withdrawing in on herself before his very eyes.
Betty nodded, "Yeah."
"Does he know you go around giving out free milkshakes and flirting your cute little ass off with complete strangers?"
Okay, that was probably uncalled for but he found that he was irritated with her. Yes, he wanted his payback against Andrews, but dammit, he also wanted her. And Jughead Jones did not like being denied what he wanted.
"I didn't…maybe I did…I don't…" her elbows went back to the counter and she dropped her head in her hands, "I'm sorry."
"No, I get it," he couldn't keep the snarl from his tone, "you're a tease."
"What?" her eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine shock, "Wait! No! I-"
She seemed so ridiculously miserable at the accusation and while he was perfectly capable of pushing her and being a complete bastard, he made another discovery. He didn't want to be a bastard to her. Well, at least not a complete one.
But he wanted to keep her feeling just a little guilt for 'leading him on.' It would serve to soften her for his next move. He dropped the strawberry into the middle of the milkshake with plop.
"Hey," he said standing from the stool, "it's cool. No harm, no foul, right?"
"Jughead-"
"Tell you what, don't worry about it. I mean, nobody's perfect."
Her green eyes swept up and locked on his, "Do you really believe that?"
The question held what he could only akin to desperation and he found that he wasn't quite prepared for that, nor did he have any idea what to do with it. He decided it was time to make his retreat before the look of longing on her face weakened his resolve.
"Sure," He said as he pulled out his wallet and tossed a five-dollar bill on the counter. Betty's gaze locked on the money and she looked like she wanted to throw up.
"The milkshake is on me, remember?"
"So, keep it as a tip," he spat, leaving the untouched drink on the counter, he sailed out the door, "See ya around, Cooper."
Betty felt her stomach sink so low it mush have hit her ankles as she watched Jughead exit the diner. Had she been leading him on? Like a tease? Kind of. Probably. She had enjoyed his attention; his flirtation; the way he watched her. It had made her feel sexy, which wasn't a feeling she was used to.
I mean, nobody's perfect.
She wondered if her truly believed that; if he was really capable of looking at someone with no expectation of perfection or excellence. Could he look at her and just see Betty?
She wanted to have someone like that in her life. She needed to have someone like that in her life. All at once, she was hit with the almost dizzying premonition that she needed Jughead specifically in her life.
And as she listened the rumble of she instinctually knew to be his motorcycle fade into the distance, she realized that he had just stormed out of the diner and left her no way to contact or track him down.
Betty went home after work that night, but sleep remained elusive to her. She couldn't seem to get comfortable; she's get hot and tangled in her bed-sheets so she'd kick them off and ten minutes later, she'd be freezing and pull them back over her again. Her mouth had felt dry, so she got for a drink of water and ten minutes later she had to get up again to go pee. The night devolved into a sweaty mess of tossing and turning with heavy eyelids that just refused to stay closed.
She finally gave up on sleep and rolled out of bed around 8:30am; significantly earlier than she normally did on a morning following one of her late night weekend shifts. The spray of the shower was scalding. Betty leaned her forehead against the cooler tiles while she let the hot water work away at the tension knots in her back. When her eyelids drifted closed, she was assaulted with the unsettling vision of smirking green eyes. She didn't want to think about those eyes going cold and distant. She wanted the heat; the fire; the intensity. It was that intensity that was first and foremost in her mind as her hand fluttered over her breast and sent heat surging to the pit of her stomach…and lower. There was a pressure building between her legs that she had only even felt the vaguest shadow of. The hand that wasn't on her breast started to drift between her legs, needing to do something to offer some relief to the pressure. The soft, pliable skin was so sensitive to even the lightest touch of her fingers, it sent a shock through Betty's entire system. Her eyelids fell closed and she imagined different hands, long graceful fingers, large palms, green eyes. On a half gasp/half moan, her eyelids popped open and she brought both hands to her abdomen, safely distanced from her more tender body parts.
What was she doing?
With refocused determination, Betty washed her hair and shut of the water. Under normal circumstances, she liked to linger in the warmth and the steam of the shower, but shame in the wanderings of her imagination drove her from the bath sooner than she would have liked.
Wrapping a towel around her wet hair, she left the en suite and quickly donned her underwear. She had just pulled out a pair of clean blue jeans when she happened to glance up in time to see Archie enter his bedroom and freeze when his eyes landed on her. He didn't look away, nor bother to hide that he was staring and Betty felt her face flush at his slow perusal. He stepped closer to his own window, a small half smile tipping up the corners of his mouth as he let his gaze travel her.
Betty could almost feel the heat of his eyes like an unwanted carress that made her uncomfortable. He was looking at her bare limbs as though he were entitled to; as though he had every right.
Didn't he?
Did he?
Betty shimmied her jeans up around her hips, flashed Archie what she knew to be a weak smile along with a little wave and then scurried back into the en suite to dry her hair and finish dressing for the day.
After she had dried, curled and secured her hair back into a pretty ponytail, she pulled on a fuzzy blue sweater and headed down the stairs. The doorbell rang as soon as her sock clad foot hit the bottom step. She had a feeling she knew who was on the other side of that door, so it was with a deep and steadying breath that she pulled the door open.
Archie didn't even say hello before stepping into the house and pressing his lips against hers. He backed her across the threshold and kicked the front door closed with his foot. He pressed her back into the wall, his body pressed flush against her and he started spreading kisses across her jawline and down her neck.
"Archie…" Betty gasped as she curled her fingers into his wide shoulders and tried to push him back away from her, "Archie, stop. My parents…"
"They left an hour ago," he breathed into her neck, "I saw them when I was getting back from my morning jog."
He slid his hands up her ribs to cup her breasts, a strange déjà vu to her shower earlier. Betty tensed and drew her shoulders forward, trying to retreat from his advance. She couldn't explain it, but having his wide, warm hands on her body felt…wrong. "Archie, no." she said.
Archie caught her chin in his hand, "Betty, you're so perfect. I can't even think…"
Betty didn't know how to respond to him; neither his words or his touches.
"Archie, I'm not ready," Betty said, turning her face away from him.
He pulled her collar to the side and dropped his mouth to her clavicle, licked and sucked at the delicate skin that covered her breastbone. "You're so beautiful…" he mumbled into her flesh as he ignored that his girlfriend was struggling in his tightened embrace, trying to twist away from him.
"Archie!" Betty exclaimed and shoved at his rock-like shoulders, "Dammit, I said no!"
Archie finally backed away, his breathing was labored and shallow, his pupils dilated as he stared at her through a haze of frustrated lust. Betty stared at him, flushed and angry and uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," Archie said, "I'm sorry, Betty. I don't know what came over me. I saw you in the window and-"
He was interrupted when Betty's cellphone chimed from her back pocket. She fixed him with another glare before digging it out and reading the text.
V : Mani pedis at Salonge. You in?
Archie stepped toward her and wrapped a hand around her elbow. He stroked his thumb in a comforting swirl along her soft skin. "I'm really sorry, Betts. Let me make it up to you. I'll take you to-"
"I'm sorry, Arch. I already have plans with V."
Author's Note : I promise Juggie is not as bad as he seems! Betty is gonna flip his world upside down very soon! And visa versa! Thoughts? Comments? Complaints? Questions?