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Making bets with Cassian was literally the worst thing anyone could ever do. Making bets with Cassian while drunk was - impossibly - even worse.
How he came up with his ideas, no one knew, but Mor was usually the first one to cackle and agree to his outrageous ideas.
Seeing as they all were currently hopelessly crushing on girls that neither of them could have, Cassian’s idea wasn’t that surprising.
“No more kissing for either of us, until the girl of our dreams is the one doing it.” He proclaimed.
Both Mor and Rhys sighed, but nodded their agreement.
“And the winner gets to command the losers around for a week.” Mor added.
Ever since the Archeron sisters had breezed into town, they all had been swept off their feet. Cassian had taken one look at the spitting, burning eldest sister and vowed to never look at another girl again until he managed to make her blush and stumble over her vicious words.
Mor had seen the middle sister kneeling in the garden, hands sheathed in pink rubber gloves, digging through dirt and had sighed wistfully. The next time Rhys had seen her, Mor had been reading a book about gardening and the language of flowers.
Rhys himself had met the youngest Archeron sister in less than ideal circumstances. He had been locked out of his house by a howling Cassian in nothing but this underwear. And she had found him pounding on the door, roaring that he would rip Cassian’s balls off and feed them to him.
She had snorted as she walked by and told him that his threat would probably sound more menacing if his boxers weren’t covered in bats.
Rhys had been sure that it was the first time he had blushed in years and when he had turned to look at the girl, it had only gotten worse.
She was magnificent. Fierce and beautiful and - he had been standing there in batman boxers outside his front door, tipsy and swaying on his feet.
Gone was his usual charm and easy grace. “Hello you.”
And the girl had burst out laughing.
Then she had walked off.
What followed were the worst, most embarrassing days of their collective lives.
Cassian managed to make a complete fool of himself whenever he spotted Nesta.
Mor had been laying it on thick with Elain, but the sweet girl seemed utterly oblivious to the flirting and cooing and bedroom eyes Mor was throwing at her.
Feyre - damn her - was wearing a knowing smirk whenever Rhys gathered his courage to lean towards her and struck up a conversation.
After five days of hell, Rhys was done trying. Azriel and Amren were laughing themselves hoarse whenever an Archeron sister was in sight. So, Rhys did what he did best. Scheming.
He pulled Feyre into a shadowy alley and confessed everything.
She lifted one of her eyebrows in a perfect arc and crossed her arms over her chest. “A bet?” She echoed, looking disapproving and amused at once.
Rhys just nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“If you help me win, I’ll do whatever you want for you in return.”
Feyre just smirked at him, looking life a wolf and Rhys tried not to let his eyes drift to her lips.
“So, you’re asking me to kiss you in front of all your friends and in return you’ll do whatever I want? For how long?”
He shrugged. “A day? A week? Forever?”
She chuckled at that, finally lowering her arms and taking a closer look at him. “One kiss?”
Now it was his turn to smirk. “At least one.”
She rolled her eyes, huffing. “One. Kiss.”
The next day, Rhys was sitting with his friends, sipping on a cup of coffee, when Feyre breezed into the shop. Her cheeks were flushed from the howling winds outside and her scarf was wrapped tightly around her.
He had sent her a text, reading nothing but “you owe me a kiss” and the address of the coffee shop twenty minutes ago.
Her blue-grey eyes travelled over the many tables scattered around until she found his waiting eyes.
A small smile greeted him and he watched as she unwrapped her scarf and then unzipped her coat. Despite it being only her outerwear, Rhys’ focus was pulled toward that hand dragging the zipper down her torso.
For a moment, he forgot where he was and his entire being existed to watch her undress.
Then he snapped his eyes back up to hers and she flashed him another one of her knowing smirks.
She folded her clothes over her arm and sauntered over to them. “Hey guys.”
Cassian and Mor threw him mocking glances, but Rhys didn’t care. His attention was focused on Feyre. She dropped her clothes on an empty chair and then she approached him.
Even Amren and Azriel fell silent, their snickering drifting off as they beheld the predatory intent glinting in Feyre’s eyes.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and that single point of contact, made him shiver. Then her other hand snaked along his jaw, gripping his chin. She turned his face to hers and leaned down.
Even though Rhys knew it was coming, he was utterly shellshocked as Feyre brushed her soft lips against his. Her fingers had slipped into his hair, gently tugging and nails scraping against his skin.
He let out a soft sigh against her that made her lips pull up in a smile. And then she deepened the kiss.
The first brush of her tongue against his bottom lip, awoke him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer until he could feel the warmth of her body.
Azriel let out a soft whistle, but it was Amren who spoke first. “I really thought Mor had it in the bag.”
Feyre pulled away after what felt like an eternity. Rhys watched her intently, his heart beating wildly as he watched her lick her bottom lip and give him a cheeky smile. “Whatever do you mean, sweet Amren?” She asked, her voice the picture of innocence.
Cassian and Mor let out various sounds of protest and anguish.
But Azriel declared Rhys the winner.
Amren, ever the observant amongst them, noted Feyre’s lack of surprise or confusion. “You knew about the bet, didn’t you girl?”
At that Mor cried about foul play and Cassian demanded a rematch.
Feyre just shrugged and gave the two of them a charming smile. “Cassian, you were doomed from the start. And Mor,” She sighed, shaking her head a little. “You need to be a lot more obvious about your intentions.”
Azriel let out a breathy chuckle and Rhys finally managed to stop staring at Feyre. He took in his friends and smirked. “You never said, we weren’t allowed to tell them about the bet.”
But Mor wouldn’t admit defeat easily.
Neither would Cassian apparently. “You need to be punished, Rhysie.”
Rhys sighed, but was caught off guard when Feyre leaned against his shoulder. He could feel the fabric of her jeans against his bare arms and his hands itched to wrap around her waist and pull her closer.
“What do you have in mind, Cass?” Mor asked, a conspiratorial look on her face.
“No more kissing for him until he helps us achieve our goals.”
And to his utter surprise, it was Feyre who protested. He tipped his head back to look at her and she gave him a smirk that sent a pulse of fire through his body.
Then she shifted her attention to his friends and said, “Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.”
“You helped him cheat. It’s a fair punishment.” Mor said and despite her fierce tone, her brown eyes were shining with amusement.
And Rhys - damn him - couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I thought this arrangement of ours was about one kiss only.”
Feyre just shrugged and slipped her arm over his shoulder, leaning close enough to whisper in his ear. “I changed my mind.”
Rhys let his eyes fall shut at she feeling of her breath tickling his ear and sighed.
“Fine. Do you have any tips for Cassian?”
Feyre let out a dark laugh. “I feel like it’s going to be a while until I get to kiss you again.”
Cassian protested loudly.