The Dare (19 page)

Yeah, clearly I hadn't drunk enough at
dinner.

I bit down on my lip, letting the pain
distract me for a brief moment while my heart stopped slamming
against my chest. The last time I'd danced was at prom. No joke. I
did not dance. I didn't even dance at my sister's wedding. I drank
wine and hid my Kindle under the table, reading when nobody was
looking. Which,
newsflash
: nobody had been looking, until
Jace had been sent my way.

He had sauntered. You know what I mean. The
saunter, also known as the sensual walk of a man who knows he's
been blessed with every human gift known to humanity. Good looks,
good teeth, good body. Good Thor, he'd been hot.

I'd dropped my best friend that night.

My Kindle. I'd accidently dropped it onto the
floor and gaped as he held out his hand and asked if I wanted to
dance. I'd said no; well, actually I'd just shaken my head and
sighed, because I'd remembered him, and it was just like a
fairytale. Having the prince of my dreams reach out to me, pick me
out of a crowd. Yeah, I'd basked. Instead of dancing, we'd shared a
few drinks, happily delivered via the Drugging Grandmother
Express.

"Come on." Jace licked his lips and pulled me
closer as we weaved through the crowd of happy couples.

Being this close to him was so not
distracting enough to get my mind off the fact that five days from
now I'd be saying goodbye to the one and only guy I was falling
hard for.

Stupid Thor.

Stupid blond hair.

Abs! Curse you! I mentally shook my fist.

"Come on." Jace grabbed my hand and steered
us through the crowds of people having sex on the dance floor.

I wasn't a dancer. Because dancing was just
another way people could make fun of me.

Elle Goulding's "Burn" came on.

My heart thumped against my chest as Jace
laughed and pulled me against his chest; the lights turned down as
he twirled me around and then tugged my leg up around his
waist.

Oh. My.

It was the techno-version of the song, or the
club version, so it was faster than what I'd heard on the
radio.

Jace released me and started dancing around
me.

And I was officially in a dilemma. Either I
moved and tried to dance with him, or I stared as his body moved in
perfect sync with the music. I'd have words with God later about
that. I mean, how is it even possible that a guy that beautiful
should have everything?

The song slowed.

Jace tugged me against him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as his
hands moved to my hips, helping me move with the same rhythm he was
moving with. I closed my eyes and gave up.

I gave up feeling sad.

I gave up feeling embarrassed.

And danced.

Until the song changed to Jay-Z, and then I
was lost all over again. I couldn't get the rhythm right.

Finally, I gave up and tried to pull away
from Jace, but he pulled me back against him and whispered, "Nobody
puts baby in a corner. Nobody."

I felt my grin stretch to my ears as he
twirled me. Yes, twirled me to a rap song and then kept me turned
around as he moved his hands against my skin. His body rocked
against mine, his abs pressed against my back, his arms wrapped
around me from behind. Every movement caused enough friction
between us to burn the entire club down.

The song ended too soon.

Sweaty, I stepped away from Jace. "That
was... nice."

"Nice?" His nostrils flared as he gripped my
shoulders with his hands and licked my lower lip. He tasted like
sweat and pure man. Was that my switch? A little licking, and I was
ready to wrap my legs around him and yell Thor at the top of my
lungs?"

"That was…" I couldn't find words. What were
words again? And sentences? Nouns? Verbs? My name?

He slapped me on the backside, so hard it
stung, then said, "I'll show you nice."

Two hours later.

And I was officially that girl. The one that
walked barefoot back to her room and swayed on her feet from lack
of hydration and too many shots.

Jace had been peer-pressure-personified.
"Just one more shot. One more dance." But he'd kept smiling and
looking so damn hot that I'd just nodded my head and smiled.

When that man got his mind set to something,
he didn't give up easily. My night had consisted of him showing me
just how nice he could be. From pushing me against a wall and
dancing his way up my body to licking a shot off my stomach
—
something I'll take to my grave because
it was both the most embarrassing and erotic thing that's ever
happened in my existence
—
to making out
with me next to the bathrooms. Apparently we had a thing for
toilets flushing; it was the music of our love or something like
that.

I swayed on my feet and felt a little
nauseated. But not boring. Definitely not boring. Though I could
really use a shower and more
nice
touching from Jace.

I was most likely going to regret my
decisions come morning.

"I know why Grandma or our therapist, who
looks scarily a lot like Grandma, made us do that exercise," Jace
whispered, once we we'd both taken showers and were lying in
bed.

I turned on my side to face him. "Why?"

"Because," he touched my cheek, "I memorized
your body. I traced it in my mind, felt it in my hands, and when we
danced… it was as if you were a part of me, an extension. Not like
we were separate people, but one."

"Like a bond!" I all but shouted.

Jace burst out laughing, and wrapped his arm
around my body, tugging me further into his warmth. "Yes, my little
science nerd, like a bond."

"A covalent bond." I sighed happily.

"Congratulations, Beth, you're no longer
chargeless."

"How do you figure?"

"Had a light bulb been touching both of us,
it would have exploded."

"I think, Mr. Senator, that you just called
me hot?"

"Damn right, I did." He growled, kissing my
mouth. "And just so you know, getting called Mr. Senator in bed…
hotter."

"Ah, so you
are
power-hungry."

"No," his eyes darkened, "just hungry. So.
Damn. Hungry."

Was he talking about me or food?

He tugged at the strap on my Victoria Secret
top and cursed. "Maybe in other circumstances… if I hadn't walked
away from you."

"What do you mean?"

He slowly pulled away from me and rubbed his
temples. "If we'd met again, after school, before my heart had been
shattered and stomped into a million pieces. Maybe if we'd met
before then… I'd have one intact. One I could give you. But I
can't."

My lower lip trembled. His honesty was going
to be the death of me. Funny, because in his line of work, you'd
think it would be his lies.

"Which is why," he sighed and turned away
from me, "I'm going to sleep. I'm going to keep my hands off and
let you sleep too."

"What if I don't want the gentleman?" I asked
in a hopeful whisper, my voice cracking from emotion.

"You do, Beth." He sighed heavily. "What good
is the fairytale if, in the end, the girl's so broken she can't
even finish the damn story?"

I took a leap of faith anyway.

And moved to straddle him. His groan was all
the encouragement I needed as I tugged his shirt over his head and
threw it on the floor.

"Beth, we shouldn't
—
"

"Shh…" I brushed a kiss across his jaw, and
his grip tightened on my hips. I thought he was going to pull me
against him; instead he gently lifted me off his body and sat me
next to him.

Voice hoarse, he whispered, "I want to, Beth.
I do, but I can't. You've had a lot to drink and it's just… that's
not the fairytale you want, sweetheart."

"But I want you." I reached for him
again.

He tugged me into his body and kissed my
temple. "Sleep."

That was how we went to bed.

Both of us blanketed in a chilly silence.
With things left unsaid. Me wanting him, him wanting me, but
admitting yet again, like every other man in my existence, that
although I was good, I wasn't good enough for him. Or maybe it was
different with Jace. He liked me. He could give me his heart, but
it seemed it had already been given very flippantly a long time
ago. And I knew something about hearts, once they've claimed
another as their own.

It was near impossible to forget.

My heart ached with the knowledge that it was
entirely possible that each day I spent in Jace's presence was
another piece of my heart he was unknowingly taking. And I was
willingly giving it. Hoping that, by the end, it wouldn't destroy
me.

"Crackerjacks!" Grandma slammed her fist onto
the table. "I'm trying to tell you a story, Gus! Stop
interrupting!"

"I'm just trying to understand how their love
story ends with a kidnapping, that's all, ma'am."

"No, you're frying my very last nerve,
Gus, and I won't have it. I'm eighty-six, and though I look strong,
it wears on me, it
—
"

"Ma'am?" theaAgent whispered. "Ma'am?

He slowly rose up from his chair and tapped
Grandma on the shoulder.

With a snort, she opened her eyes. "Oh," she
stretched, "such a good sleep. You were saying?"

Jace

"Grandma." I cleared my throat, managing to
only clog it further as she held out the pencil and paper. "I still
don't understand what you're asking me to do."

For the last half-hour, Grandma had lectured
us on how to keep a relationship strong… in the bedroom. My ears
had bled, and I'm pretty sure, given the circumstances, a few of my
sperm had just given up and died.

I wouldn't blame them. I'd wished for death
when she'd gone into graphic detail about her late husband, Bill.
Apparently in his final years he'd gone blind in his right eye, but
Grandma wanted to be sure that we understood that physical ailments
should not deter us from participating in what she weirdly referred
to as Charades.

What followed was an actual pie chart about
erogenous zones that are awakened when other parts of the body are
physically… on the injured list. Our torture in hell had ended with
pictures. Not normal pictures, because that would be too easy. She
erected, poor choice of words, I know, a felt storyboard that I
could have sworn my Sunday School teachers used to use in order to
tell us Bible stories, and then told us a story about Sad Sam and
Happy Hannah, and how Sad Sam turned into a Surprised Sam when
Happy Hannah learned how to take Grandma's advice.

There was a poem.

And finally a song that was sung to the tune
of "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

I would never eat lamb again.

I thought the torture was done, until Grandma
gave us pencils and said we had a pop quiz. The questions had to be
the stupidest ones I'd ever had anyone ask me, and I'd had a lot of
stupid questions.It was part of the job.

"Write out your answers on this piece of
paper and discuss."

"But the questions are stupid."

"So are you, and I don't go telling it to
your face, now do I?"

"You have," I argued. "Twice."

"It's true," Beth chimed in.

Grandma waved me off. "Question one."

"Shit."

"How is that donkey?" Grandma sighed happily.
"He's quite old, you know."

"We know." Beth sighed. "Can we just hurry
and get this done? We're burning daylight, and I really need to get
a tan."

"She does," I agreed. "White as a ghost."

"Yeah, throw stones in a glass house, Viagra.
Let me know how that works out for you."

"Children!" Grandma clapped. "Honestly,
what's wrong with you this morning?"

Beth's face fell. "Nothing, sorry, I didn't
sleep well."

Was she actually pissed I hadn't made a move
on her? Seriously? Did she think it was easy for me to turn around
and sleep when I knew she wanted the exact opposite? I'd heard
every sigh that escaped her lips, every breath she'd taken, every
moan she'd made, every damn toss and turn. I'd almost slept on the
floor.

I broke the pencil in half and grimaced when
Grandma threw another one at my face. I barely caught it before it
impaled itself in my cheek.

"Question one." Grandma sniffed. "As a child,
the cartoon character you most identified with was…?"

Grumbling I wrote down my answer.

"Question two." After a teacher pause, you
know the pause teachers do to make you sweat it out for a minute
before they ask the next question, Grandma spoke, "Name your most
secure moment as a child."

Grimacing. My pencil hovered over the paper.
I honestly didn't know how to answer. My entire childhood had been
based around my parents' approval. I was secure in their love
—
but not secure in my success. When I was
six, I'd had nightmares that my dad had told me he wasn't proud of
me anymore.

I scribbled down my answer and waited.

"Final question," Grandma called. "If you
were a food, you would be what? And why?"

I rolled my eyes. "Is this even real or just
another one of your ploys to get us to…" I shook my head, letting
my voice die off.

"Aw, Jace, you scared you're going to get the
wrong answer? It isn't a test," Beth joked. "Just answer the
questions so we can hurry up and go."

Rolling my eyes, I answered the last question
and gave Grandma my paper.

"I see." Grandma read my paper and then
compared it to Beth's, which was a little humiliating.

What if her answers were better than mine?
What if mine were stupid? Why the hell did I care?

"Lovely." Grandma beamed. "Just lovely.
You're dismissed."

"What?" we said in unison.

"You may go." Grandma's smile widened.

"But…" I scratched my head and let out a
nervous laugh, "you didn't even tell us how we did? I mean, wasn't
there a point to that exercise?"