The Player Bet

Chapter 9

The Player Bet9

--------CHAPTER 9---------

I found myself in a bad situation. It was like in movies when a girl can't find anything to wear. They would search their closets, throwing piles of clothes on the floor in the process of finding the perfect outfit.The only problem was that I actually didn't have any clothes.

I sat on my bed, makeup and hair done, wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday. I didn't have much of a choice though. After the thought of bugs crawling around in my clothing, I had left all my clothes at home. I suppose I could have washed them here, but the thought hadn't crossed my mind.

Sighing, I stood up and grabbed my bright purple book bag off my dresser. I put on my white sneakers and walked out of my room.

Blake was leaning against the wall, twirling his keys around a finger. I had to admit he looked very bada*s; his dark hair falling in his face, dressed in black jeans and a black v-neck tshirt.

"Hey," I greeted, causing him to look from his keys up to me. He looked me over, and I felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Are you wearing the same thing as yesterday?" he asked, gesturing to my long sleeved gray shirt and my light wash blue denim skinny jeans. I really was a fashionable girl, I thought, smiling to myself before remembering Blake's question. He looked fairly amused at me getting distracted.

"All my clothes are at home," I mumbled, running a hand through my straightened hair. He rolled his eyes at me before standing up straight, no longer balancing his weight on the wall.

"Why didn't you bring any?" he asked me, taking a step towards me. I crossed my arms and sent him a glare.

"There were bugs in them!" I told him, waving my arms in the air before crossing them again.

"Well I guess we'll just have to get you some clothes then," he whispered, stepping up to me so our chests were pressed together. My breath hitched and I let out a gasp when his hand reached around to my back, pulling me closer to him. I stared into his colorful eyes, swirling with emotions. We must have stood there for at least ten minutes before he stepped away, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into an unknown room.

There was a cream colored bed sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by matching dressers and shelves. The walls were a light pastel blue, with white carpets and a picture of a woman on the wall.

Blake led me over to another door and he opened it revealing a large walk in closet. It was filled with assortments of clothes, only skipping neons and bright colors. Most of the clothes were pastels or beige, black or white. Blake walked inside leaving me marveling at all the clothes. This closet would be a girls dream.

"You can't wear my moms jeans, you're too fat," Blake told me and I gasped before slapping his arm. That was mean.

"Blake! I am not fat," I informed him, crossing my arms and turning away from him stubbornly.

"Why don't you take off those clothes and we'll see," he suggested, putting on his cocky smile that I was starting to know all too well.

"Blake, shut up," I told him and he laughed at my lack of a comeback.

"Here," Blake told me, passing me a black skirt and a loose blue shirt. I grabbed them, walking over to the washroom. I was surprised Blake could pick out something decent. I was wrong.

"Blake I am not wearing this," I told him, shaking my head at myself in the mirror.

"I think you look hot," he told me, peeking in the bathroom. I looked over to the mirror to examine myself. The skirt was skin tight, barely covering my butt and the 'loose' shirt was tightly clinging to me and barely covered my mid section.