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The Bet

St. Martin's Press

Jace followed the hospital room numbers down the hall and around the corner until he came to 3002. He knocked twice and then heard James's bored voice say to come in. "Think fast," Jace said, tossing the autographed football to the sixteen-year-old who was resting in bed.

James grasped the ball between his hands. "You're lucky I've got quick reflexes," he said. "You always go around firing passes at sick kids?" He pulled the headphones from his ears and set his phone on the table near the bed.

"Just the ones I know have good hands. And besides, you're not that sick." Jace moved toward the bed and gave James a friendly handshake. He'd met the teen a year ago when Jace had first begun helping with a charity run by one of Jace's teammates. James was a quarterback for a local high school football team, or had been before his diagnosis. Jace had instantly connected with him.

"How you feeling?" Jace asked. He hadn't seen him since James had surgery to remove the cancerous bone in his lower leg.

James shrugged. "About as good as can be expected, I guess, considering I have a metal rod in my leg."

Jace took a seat in the chair. "That's badass. You're basically like Wolverine now."

James laughed, but Jace could tell it was half-hearted.

"You'll be back on the field in no time."

James flipped the ball around between his hands. "Holy shit," he said, his face lighting up as he noticed the names on the ball. "Is this the whole team?"

Leaning back in the chair, Jace nodded.

"Sweet! Tell everyone thanks for me."

"I will," Jace said.

The two talked football and watched a little TV before they heard a knock at the door a while later.

"Come in," James said.

A woman in blue scrubs entered the room at a frenzied pace and made her way to the computer against the wall without making eye contact with them. She put down the chart she'd been studying and then put her fingers on the keyboard. "Morning, James," she said as she typed away.

"Hey, Doctor Maz," James replied as he leaned back against his pillow.

Jace studied the doctor as she scrolled through the computer. Well, the back of her at least. The white lab coat was far from formfitting, but he could tell it hid a pert ass and a thin frame.

Finally, the doctor turned around and faced them, opening her mouth to speak but words seeming to die on her tongue. She blinked a few times before trying again. "I, um, sorry, I ... I didn't realize ..." Her hand gestured toward Jace briefly before she pulled it back to her side. He watched her take a deep breath before she began again. "I wasn't aware you had company. I would've ... greeted you."

Greeted me? Who talks like that? Jace had to admit, he was enjoying how flustered he was clearly making this woman. This fairly attractive woman — now that he could get a good look at her. She didn't look older than twenty-six, though she probably had to be since she was a doctor.

Her black-framed glasses weren't exactly the picture of fashion, she wore no makeup that he could discern, and her hair was pulled back with the type of hair tie he had only ever seen on middle school girls. But there was an appeal there Jace couldn't quite put his finger on. He'd bet what was under the scrubs was more alluring.

"No worries," Jace said as he stood and extended his hand toward her, wanting to see how she'd react to the small bit of contact.

She cleared her throat slightly before rigidly extending her hand and shaking it harder than necessary.

"I'm Alessandra Mastrazacoma, one of James's doctors. I just started working with James," she said, her voice professional.

"Jace Benning," he replied, trying to figure out what the fuck she'd just said her name was.

She withdrew her hand abruptly, which made him realize he'd held it longer than would be considered normal.

"Nice to meet you. How do you know James?" she asked.

"Through a charity I work for. Victory for Kids," he added.

She fidgeted with her hands a bit before she crossed her arms over her chest. Which only served to show what a nice chest she had. Not porn-star fake, but large enough to fill out an outfit. Jace realized he was likely staring and quickly lifted his eyes.

Her head tilted slightly, but she didn't comment. "Oh, that's great," she said, seeming genuinely interested. "Do you volunteer sometimes or do you work for them full-time?"

"He can't work for them full-time," James interjected.

Jace glanced at James and laughed softly.

Doctor ... whatever her name was looked confused.

"You don't know who he is, do you?" James asked her.

"Should I?" she answered.

"Jace Benning," James said slowly, obviously hoping the gradual pronunciation of Jace's full name would help ring a bell. It didn't. "Of the Jersey Commanders."

"I don't really follow baseball," she said.

"Football," Jace corrected with an amused smile. "I'm a quarterback." Her cluelessness was almost cute.

"Sorry," she said, though Jace guessed she really wasn't. She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. Jace noticed there were others that weren't up in her ponytail, but for some reason she left those alone. "I've never heard of you."

Jace shrugged, a slight smirk crossing his mouth. "No biggie. I haven't heard of you either." He paused to let the joke sink in, but it didn't seem to. "What did you say your name was again?" he asked.

"Alessandra Mastrazacoma."

"It seriously sounds like your last name is Masters of Coma. Did that make it difficult to get a job as a doctor?" He laughed, hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness that seemed to be building. Her blank expression told him his joke had completely backfired.

* * *

Alessandra stared at ... whatever his name was. She knew his type. Ruggedly athletic, boyish charm, got whatever he wanted because he knew how to flash his dimples and do ... whatever people like him did with a ball. She'd gone to college with enough guys like that — guys who were good enough to be tutored by her behind closed doors, but wouldn't so much as wave to her across the quad between classes. And now this asshole was making fun of her name and career? To hell with him.

"Actually," she said, "getting this job was fairly easy. There weren't any other applicants who graduated at the top of their class and had multiple articles published in a medical journal."

His eyebrows lifted. "I was kidding," he said to her before turning to James. "Is she always this serious?"

"Usually," James answered.

Alessandra rolled her eyes, suddenly hoping there was an emergency elsewhere so she could leave. And wasn't that a great thing for a doctor to think: wishing for medical emergencies so she could escape the hot guy she was a bumbling idiot around? No wonder she was still single. She seriously needed to work on her social skills.

It shouldn't matter what this guy thought of her anyway. So what if he had broad shoulders, messy blond hair, and a short beard to match? She wasn't into the muscular, athletic type. That thought actually calmed her a bit. "I need to go." So much for calm.

The confused stares of both guys told her they noticed her awkward attempt at leaving.

She plastered a smile on her face. "I have a few more patients I need to see before lunch." She could hear how abrupt her departure sounded, but she figured they would just attribute it to her busy schedule. "The nurse will be in later to do some blood work, and then I'll be back in to review the results with you."

"Okay. Thanks, Dr. Maz."

She smiled at James before turning on her heel to walk out. But as she turned, she found herself colliding with the privacy curtain that was drawn halfway around James's bed. Instead of stepping back and righting herself, she irrationally panicked and tangled herself even more in the damned fabric.

"Whoa. Hang on. I got ya."

Alessandra cursed her misfortune as she felt strong hands grip her hips through the curtain and halt her flailing. There was absolutely nothing sexy about making an ass of oneself, she reminded herself. Being manhandled held even less of an appeal. She was so busy convincing herself of those things, she didn't immediately register that he had freed her from the fabric prison.

His eyebrows were drawn together, his hands now on her biceps as he looked at her as though she were a skittish animal.

How has this all gone so wrong so quickly?

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she squealed. She cleared her throat and stepped away from him. "Yes," she repeated, more firmly this time. "I'm fine."

"If you say so." His response was accompanied with a smirk that made her hate him a little. Why wouldn't he make the most of another chance at poking fun of her? His type always did.

"I do." The assertiveness that had gotten her through med school and into a highly sought after fellowship oozed through her veins. "See you later, James." She stuck out her hand toward Jace, who shook it, amusement still written all over his face. "I apologize, but I've forgotten your name. Though I doubt we'll see much of each other, so it probably doesn't matter much. Have a good day."

And with that, she turned and left the room — this time managing to avoid the curtain. She made it two steps down the hall before she heard a deep voice follow her out. "Bye, Dr. Coma."

Alessandra wasn't sure she'd ever come to hate someone so quickly. But Jake ... Jack ... James, no, James is the patient ... whatever his name was was definitely hate-worthy. She did her best not to stomp as she made her way down the hall, taking deep breaths to try to get herself under control. Which worked well up until Brian Mercer rounded the corner.

Her head swiveled as she frantically searched for a place to hide. It was bad enough he had to work in the same hospital she did, he had absolutely no right being on her floor. By the time she stopped twisting her head to locate an escape route, she noticed that Brian had stopped directly in front of her.

She felt her face flame red as a solitary thought popped into her head. This is it. This is how it ends. Because if nearly face-planting in front of a star athlete was embarrassing, looking like a crazed loon in the middle of a hospital in front of your ex-boyfriend was drop-dead-on-the-spot mortifying.

"Hey, Sandy."

Alessandra barely managed to keep herself from cringing. "Sandy" had been his pet name for her, and when they'd first met, she'd been too enthralled with the handsome med student to tell him she loathed nicknames. And she couldn't have very well told him to stop calling her that after she'd allowed it, so that's what she'd been: Sandy. Dr. Coma was sounding better and better. "Hi, Brian," she squeaked after realizing she'd gone too long without responding.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his scrubs and rocked back on his heels like the cocky asshole he was. "How ya been? I'd heard you were doing your fellowship here but hadn't seen you around."

Alessandra wished they'd been able to keep the streak going. "I've been doing well. Just working with patients. With cancer." Oh God. Alessandra wondered how she'd been able to get a perfect score on her SATs with the vocabulary she was currently exhibiting.

Brian's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. The jerk.

"How have you been?" Alessandra forced herself to ask.

"Good as well. Also working with patients." He held up his left hand. "Got married a year ago. We're expecting twins in September."

Alessandra felt her brain disconnecting from her body. The poor organ tried to hang in there, but it was a losing battle. Desperation was setting in.

"How about you? Married? Kids?"

Maybe she'd imagined the extra emphasis on the last word. Odds were he wasn't trying to reopen the wound he'd created years ago. But it didn't matter. All she knew was that she had to find a way out of there. Looking around again, she saw only one other person in the hallway walking toward them. Complete and utter panic was really the only excuse she had for what she did next. Because there was no way on this earth she'd ever have grabbed ... that guy who'd been visiting James, and pulled him closer to her. No way she would have looked up at him and said, "Hey, honey. This is a nice surprise." And she definitely wouldn't have lifted up onto her toes and kissed him.

Not if she'd been of sound mind and body.

She'd meant it to be just a quick peck. Something that would signal a simple hello between lovers. But for as surprised as her rescuer had initially looked, he'd certainly recovered quickly. Because as she attempted to pull away from him, his arms flew around her waist and pulled her more tightly against him. His lips parted slightly and his tongue darted out to rub over her lips.

The moan that left her was a sound of surprise and nothing more. The way her body tingled was an aftereffect of the high-stress situation. And the way her hands rubbed over the hard planes of his chest was ... okay, she couldn't really explain that one.

He pulled back slowly, and leaned his forehead against hers as he smiled at her. "Hi."

Alessandra came back to herself with a start. She jerked away from him and smoothed her hands down her lab coat. "Yes, ahem, hi." She resisted the urge to rub her hand over her mouth, but just barely. Casting a quick look at Brian, Alessandra noticed that he wasn't looking at her at all. His eyes were all over the Thor look-alike with a mouth that should be outlawed.

"I can't believe it."

Me neither.

"You're Jace Benning. Dude, I'm such a fan. This is incredible."

In the year and a half they'd spent together, Alessandra had never heard Brian utter the word "dude." And she wished she hadn't heard it now. Though she was thankful that he'd supplied her kissing partner's name. Introducing them would have been a special kind of awkward if he hadn't.

Jace extended his hand toward Brian. "That's me. And you are?" Jace slung an arm around Alessandra's shoulders. She couldn't help the eye roll and hoped Brian hadn't noticed.

"Brian. I used to date Sandy."

Jace looked over at her, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Who's Sandy?"

She reached up to where his hand hung off her shoulder and, under the guise of taking hold of it, pinched him. Hard. "That's what Brian used to call me."

Jace winced, whether from the pinch or the nickname Alessandra wasn't sure. "Oh. You don't look like a Sandy to me."

"Maybe because I'm not a Sandy."

Jace looked at her for a moment longer, his gaze intense, before shrugging. "Maybe." Then he turned back toward their audience. "It was great meeting you, Brian, but we need to go. Afraid I practically have to drag this one out of here to get her to eat lunch."

Brian glanced at his watch. "But it's only ten fifteen."

Pursing his lips, Jace seemed to mull that one over. "Yeah, but you know how she is. It'll take me at least an hour and a half to get her out of here. Nice meeting you." Jace started walking away, effectively taking Alessandra with him.

Once they rounded a corner, Alessandra tossed his arm off of her and turned toward him. "I'm so sorry for that. It was completely unprofessional and I sincerely apologize. I really appreciate you playing along with that. I just —"

"So that's the kind of guy you go for, huh?" Jace interrupted.

The comment startled Alessandra. "No ... yes ... well not really ... anymore ... or ... wait, why are we talking about this? It's none of your business."

"I think you made it my business when you stuck your tongue down my throat."

Gasping, Alessandra's hand flew to her chest. "I did no such thing."

Jace smiled and then leaned toward her, causing Alessandra to shiver at his proximity. "No, but you wanted to."

"I did not."

Looking into her eyes like he could read the truth in them, Jace's smile grew. "No? Guess it was just me who wanted it then."

Alessandra floundered for a response, but was ultimately saved from having to give one when Jace spoke again. "Have a good day, Dr. Coma. You ever need a kissing buddy again, let me know."

Then the bastard winked before heading for the elevator.

"Jace." Ben smacked his friend on the shoulder. "You're up."

Jace made no movement toward the podium.

"Jace. Jace. What the fuck are you doing?" Ben whispered. "Get up there."

Suddenly Jace's head snapped up from where he'd been absentmindedly staring out into the crowd, taking in everything but somehow not processing any of it. He hated being the center of attention. Unless, of course, it was on the field.

Jace rubbed his hands over his tuxedo pants and buttoned his jacket as he stood to walk toward the podium.

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Excerpted from The Bet by Elizabeth Hayley. Copyright © 2017 Sarah Glasgow and Shauna Johnson. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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