I Dare You

“I’m not buying it.”

He gives me a serious look. “Challenge accepted.”

“What challenge?”

“Proving to you that I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met.”

“And how are you going to do that?” I cock my hip and lean against my cart, trying hard to be nonchalant, but it’s hard as hell with six feet four inches of solid muscle running his gaze over you.

“You can start by hanging out with me.”

“We do…in class.”

“No, more than that.” He thinks on it, his top teeth chewing on his bottom lip a little. “Definitely somewhere with a lot of other people.”

“And why is that?”

He sweeps his gaze over me. “I think we both know what’s going to happen if we’re alone.”

Oh. My. God. He is so infuriatingly arrogant that I can’t even…

“I’m not interested in you like that.” Total lie. My body definitely is; it’s my head that’s rebelling.

“Uh-huh.” He grins widely.

My eyes flare. “I’m not.”

“Are you denying what’s going on between us?” His blue eyes are hot as he stares at me, and I might have to step into the ice cream freezer to cool off.

I swallow. “Yes. Flat-out denying.”

He shakes his head and laughs a little, his face so self-assured and freaking confident that I want to scream…or kiss him. What? Where did that thought come from?

He shuffles his feet. “Maybe I’ve been waiting two years for you to be free so I could ask you out.”

What?!

His eyes go back to the packages of ground beef. He clears his throat. “You never answered my question—what’s with all the meat?”

He’s changing the subject. Thank God. “I cook for the upcoming week on Sunday nights. Monday’s taco night, Tuesday’s nacho night, and Wednesday is quesadillas.”

“She’s beautiful and she cooks?”

“Stop flirting,” I snip. “I’m not beautiful.”

“You are.”

My body tingles all over at his simple words.

He leans over into my personal space, and I smell him, dark and exotic with a hint of pure male. His finger tilts my chin up until we’re staring each other in the face.

I recall the sexy convo with He-Man, about us standing in a cramped bathroom having sex against the wall, only now He-Man has a face and it’s Maverick. He’s holding me up, cupping my ass as he slides into me, and I’m gasping his name—

I stop, my heart flying as heat rushes to my cheeks. I look down and realize how close we’re standing. One more inch and my entire body will be plastered against his, and it’s all I can do to stand perfectly still.

Tension crackles in the air as his piercing eyes stare into mine.

“In case you didn’t know it already, I like how you look.” His eyes slowly drink me in, drifting over my face and lingering on my chest. “All that blonde hair, and your green eyes. I dig how tall you are…and your curves.”

Oh, lord. I’m nowhere near as bosomy as most, but I do have nice B-cups.

I’m back in that bathroom fantasy and he’s kissing me, his hand on my breast—

I can’t breathe.

A soft voice brings us both back to the present. “Mav? I…found…you.”

I glance over his shoulder to see a delicate creature with long, flowing russet-colored hair and a heart-shaped face. With creamy, porcelain-perfect skin, she reminds me of the beautiful dolls Nana used to collect. She tilts her head and looks at us with interest.

My lips compress as I turn and mutter under my breath. “You’re here with a girl and you’re hitting on me?”

Ignoring my comment, he takes a step back and simultaneously reaches out a hand to her. “Hey, I lost you at the candy aisle. You find what you wanted?”

She nods, presenting him with the little carry basket she’s hooked on her arm. She shows him a handful of Snickers and a six-pack of Dr. Pepper. “Can…I…have…them?” Her words are drawn out.

I glance back at Maverick to see a soft expression on his face. “You can get them, but you know the rule: only one each per day. Too much of that and…”

She nods. “My…teeth…will…fall…out.”

I look from one to the other, thoroughly confused. Who is she?

He glances back at me. “Delaney, I’d like you to meet Raven—my sister.”

Oh. She does a slow blink then comes toward me, and I notice her leg hitches a bit as she moves. She takes my hand in a limp shake, her expression unsure, as if she’s not certain of the etiquette.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, her eyes going from me to him.

Maverick grunts. “Too personal, Raven.”

She shrugs and drops my hand, almost sizing me up. “Need…a…girlfriend…so…you…stop…worrying…so…much.”

Hmmm. What does Maverick have to worry about?

“Nice to meet you,” I say. “And, Maverick and I are just friends.”

She squints, looking disappointed. “Oh.”

“We have a class together,” I tell her.

“Where she mostly ignores me,” Maverick adds.

I laugh.

Raven studies me and gives her temple a little tap with her index finger. “Nice…to…meet…you. My…head…is…wonky. I…tell…everyone…so…they…know.” She shrugs indifferently.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, not quite sure how to respond.

“Don’t…be.” She smiles sweetly at nothing in particular, her gaze drifting off. “Mav…olives…please?”

He nods. “Of course, get whatever you want. Meet me back at the front to check out, okay?”

She nods, and without another glance at me, moves down the aisle.

I’m watching this in fascination. Maverick has a sister…a sister with special needs…and he adores her—it’s obvious in the softness of his eyes as they follow her.

He turns back to me. “What?” he asks, and I guess he’s reading my face.

I shake my head. “You’re such a surprise.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Is she the reason the highest-rated defensive player in the country decided to stay home and play for the local college?” It’s no secret that Maverick received ESPN’s highest ratings and was courted for scholarships from the big schools like University of Alabama and Georgia. I’ve even heard he promised himself to a big SEC team, but at the last moment decided to stay in Magnolia and play for Waylon—which, admittedly, isn’t a horrible team, but it doesn’t have the same prestige the Crimson Tide does.

“Yeah. It happened in a car accident my senior year that also took my mom. It…changed a lot of things for me.”

His countenance is full of melancholy, an emotion I recognize because I have the same darkness inside of me. Anyone who’s lost a loved one knows it. I nod. “I lost my parents at age ten in a car wreck. I get it.”

He straightens and gives me a surprised look, almost as if he’s restructuring how he sees me. “I never would have known it. You seem so…adjusted.”

I huff out a laugh. “Thanks?”

“You know what I mean,” he says with a little smirk. “You’re a good person, Delaney. You’re always kind and sweet and…” He stops talking and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m talking too much.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">