RYAN
We won today and I have no idea how. Throughout the game, the sun hurt my eyes. My head pounded in an annoying painful rhythm. Twice, I puked between innings. Playing with a hangover took hell to another level. Even now, I fight the urge to pull the Jeep over on the side of the road, let my head hit the steering wheel, and rest, but I can’t.
I like her. I really like Beth. The moment she smiled at me in the Jeep after we drove through the creek, I knew. Yeah, she’s hard-core, but at the same time, she’s not. Last night, her walls cracked.
Holding her while we danced, I saw her—the beautiful girl who loved ribbons. When she entwined her fingers with mine to stop me from fighting Tim, I saw the girl who protected Lacy in elementary school. In the barn, I listened to her ramble about her life: Isaiah, Noah, Echo, and beaches. By listening, I found a person loyal to those she loves. It was the first unedited glimpse into a girl that holds everything inside.
I’m falling for her. Hard. And I messed everything up the moment I touched her. How could I be so stupid?
The evening sunlight filters through the thick trees lining Scott Risk’s long driveway. I replay the words I’ll say when Scott answers his door. I don’t have much of an excuse to see Beth. The truth won’t help: Hi. I took your niece out last night, got drunk, made out with her until she bolted from the barn, and I’d appreciate the opportunity to apologize to her and convince her to give me a shot.
Yeah. I see that conversation going well.
Bent forward with her head in her hands, Beth sits on the front porch stairs. My stomach drops to the floorboard of the Jeep. I did this to her. Beth peeks at me through her hair as I park in front of the garage. She straightens and wraps her arms around her stomach.
“Hey,” I say as I approach. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit.” She’s barefoot and wears a deep purple cotton shirt that hugs her waist and a pair of overly ripped jeans. Her shirt slips off her shoulder, exposing her black bra strap. I force my eyes to glance away. I became way too familiar with that tantalizing bra last night.
I stop at the foot of the stairs and shove my hands into my pockets. Does she feel like shit because she’s also hungover, or because she regrets making out with me? “My head’s hammered all day.”
Beth slowly sucks in air and releases it, blowing a few strands of her hair from her face. “What do you want?”
“You left in a rush last night.” Images of our night together flash in my mind. Her hands tugging off my shirt, hot on my skin, messing through my hair. I remember my lips on her neck and the sweet taste of her skin. The curve of her body against my hands. Her fingernails teasing my back. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” she says.
Beth retreats behind her brick wall. Closed off. Emotions cemented in. I stare at her. She stares at me. I have no idea what to say. Last night, we weren’t really on a date. It was an agreement. She wasn’t my girlfriend who I slowly worked through the bases with. She wasn’t a girl I took to dinner a couple of times and kissed a little too much for too long. With Beth, I crossed lines a real man wouldn’t cross. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Her glare makes me feel like I’m standing in front of a firing squad, awaiting my sentence. “For…” What am I sorry for? Taking off her shirt? Kissing her until I thought I was going to lose my mind? Touching her? Feeling her? Of all the things I may be sorry for in my life, I’m honestly not sorry for any of that. “For taking advantage of you.”
The right corner of her mouth struggles up, then down, then slowly back up. “We didn’t have sex last night.”
Heat runs up my neck and I focus on my shoes. “I know.”
Part of me is thankful she left when she did. The moment my lips found her body, we quickly became an erupting volcano. Hot and fast. Very fast. Fast enough that I would have given her my virginity.
“Then what are you apologizing for?”
I gather my courage and face her. “You left. In a hurry. And what I did… We were drunk. I don’t get drunk and I don’t take advantage of girls. You left upset. I crossed lines, and the way you left… I’m sorry.”
Beth clears her throat. “Ryan.” She stretches out my name, as if giving herself time to think. “I was the one who took advantage of you.”
I still. “No, you didn’t. Girls don’t take advantage of guys. Guys take advantage of girls.”
Her lips bunch and twist to the side as she shakes her head. “Nope. I distinctly remember telling you I didn’t want to be alone.”
“And that’s the moment I should have walked away.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“But I should have. It’s what an honorable guy does. Especially for a girl he likes.”
Beth points a finger. “See, that’s where you’re confused. You don’t like me.”
Why is she making this apology complicated? Why does she make everything complicated? “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. You’re telling yourself you like me.”
She drives me insane by finding a way to slink underneath my skin. “That makes no sense.”
“You feel guilty for hooking up with me so you’re trying to make yourself feel better by convincing yourself that you like me, when you don’t.”
“Wha…” The more she talks, the more my mind becomes a cluttered mess. “I like you. I. Like. You. I’ll admit, you’re annoying. Sometimes you agitate me to the brink of insanity, but you can throw it back at me like no one else. When you laugh, I want to laugh. When you smile, I want to smile. Hell, I want to be the one to make you smile. And you’re pretty. No, you’re sexy, and last night was…”
“Stop.” Beth holds out her hand. “You’re a good guy and you don’t want to think you could have done something not good, okay? What we did wasn’t bad. It wasn’t wholesome, but it wasn’t bad. Don’t read anything more into it.”
Beth’s beautiful blue eyes are pleading with me. Pleading! She wants me to agree with her. “If you really feel that way, then why did you bolt last night?”
The front door opens and, with narrowed eyes, Scott glares at me from the other side of the storm door. Beth glances at him over her shoulder and holds his gaze. He walks away, leaving the front door open. A knot forms between my shoulder blades. Not good.
“You should go,” says Beth.
Probably, but I can’t. Not with Beth telling me that I don’t like her. Not when she honestly believes it. “Go out with me again—a real date this time.”
“What?”
I climb the three steps and sit next to her. We were so close last night. Skin against skin. She’s inches from me, but it feels like miles. My hand becomes heavy with the need to touch her, comfort her. I raise it. Put it down. Come on, I had no problems touching her last night. I raise it again and place my hand over hers.
Under my fingers, Beth stiffens. My heart beats once against my chest, creating an ache. I don’t want her to hate my touch. “We’ve started everything ass backward. I like you. Let’s see what happens.”
“Date you?” she asks.
“Date me.”
“Like friends—” Beth scrunches her face in disgust “—with benefits?”
I can almost feel her body under mine again and I shake away the memory. I’m not going to prove to her I like her if we have a repeat performance of last night. “No. Friends who go out together. I pay. You smile. Sometimes we kiss.”
She raises a skeptical eyebrow on the word kiss and I immediately backtrack. “But we date first—for a while. Friends who like each other and want to date.”
“I never said I liked you.”
I chuckle and a warm tingle enters my blood when she gives that small, peaceful smile. “You haven’t said you hate me.”
“Friends who date,” she says as if she’s trying to find the hidden meaning in the phrase.
“Friends who date,” I repeat and squeeze her fingers.
Beth tenses and withdraws her hand. “No.” She pads down the stairs on bare feet. “No. This isn’t the way things work. Guys like you don’t date girls like me. What angle are you playing? Is this about the dare?”
Her words cause me to flinch, but they aren’t a surprise. Last night, I pushed her too far. I showed her no respect. She has no reason to believe me, yet I want her to. “No. The dare is done.”
“Because you won last night?”
No, I didn’t. The dare required that Beth and I stay at the party for an hour. We barely lasted fifteen minutes. “It’s over, Beth. I don’t play people I care about.”
Myriad emotions cross her face, as if she’s wrestling with God and the devil. “You could be playing me. If this is the dare, just tell me.”
“I did tell you. The dare is over.” I told Lacy that no one gets hurt on my dares. Especially in this one. How could I be so blind? I thought Beth walked away from the trust fall because she wanted to hurt me. I thought she wanted to watch my team lose. Wrong. Beth didn’t jump because she doesn’t trust and, because of this dare, I’ve ruined any trust she could have had in me.
“Did you win then?” Beth stubbornly holds on to the dare. “Were you dared to make out with me?” The hurt gives way to panic. “You fucking asshole, you did play me, didn’t you? Does everyone at school already know? Are you here for bonus points? Try to fuck the girl, tell your friends, then convince her you want more?”
“No!” I shout, then remind myself to rein it in. I created her doubt when I accepted the dare. “No. What happened between us last night wasn’t about any dare. I didn’t plan it and I would never tell anyone.”
“So, I’m a secret. We’ll date in private, but not in public. No thanks.”
Damn. I can’t win. I rub my hand over my head. “I want to be with you. Here. At school. Wherever. I didn’t play you. Just trust me.”
Beth angles her body away from me. Trust must be the ugliest word in her vocabulary. Desperate to make everything right, I blurt out, “Ask me for anything and I’ll do it. Trust me with something. I’ll prove to you I’m worth trusting.”
She assesses me: Nikes first, blue jeans, Reds T-shirt, then my face. “Will you take me into Louisville again?”
The nausea I fought all afternoon returns. Anything but that. “Beth…”
“I won’t disappear again. I need you to drop me off someplace and I swear I’ll be at the same exact spot you left me at the exact time you tell me to show. You’re asking me to trust you, well…you’re going to have to trust me first.”
It doesn’t seem fair, but fair went out the window the moment I touched her last night. It possibly went out the window the moment I accepted the dare at Taco Bell. “I did trust you.” My mouth shuts and everything inside me hardens. The words taste bitter on my tongue. “I told you about my brother.”
Beth bites her lower lip. “It’s a secret?”
I nod. I really don’t want to discuss Mark.
Worry lines clutter her forehead. “Drunken admissions don’t equate to trust.”
I sigh heavily. She’s right. “Fine. I have a game two weeks from Saturday in Louisville, but you’re sitting through it. I’m not budging on that requirement. Take it or leave it.”
Beth’s face explodes into this radiant smile and her blue eyes shine like the sun. My insides melt. This moment is special and I don’t want to let it go. I’m the one that put that look there. “Really?” she asks.
Do I want her to come to my game? Do I want the opportunity for her to see that I’m more than some stupid jock? “Yes. Don’t play me, Beth.” Because I’m falling for you, more than I should, and if you betray me again, it will hurt like hell.
The smile fades and she solemnly answers, “I won’t. When we go into Louisville, I just need an hour to myself.”
An hour. To do what? See Isaiah? I guess she could. I only asked her to date me. She’d probably bolt if I said the word relationship, even though I have no interest in seeing anyone else. I went too fast with her last night. This time, I’ll go slow. “I’ll give you an hour alone in Louisville. Then we’re going on a real date, even if it kills us.”
Beth rejoins me on the steps. Her knee rests against mine and we lapse into silence. Typically, silence with girls makes me uncomfortable, but this one doesn’t bother me. She doesn’t have anything to say. Neither do I. I’m not ready to leave and it appears she’s not ready for me to go. Beth, out of anybody, would tell me what she really wanted or thought.
She finally breaks the silence. “How do I take my name off the homecoming list? Does it require a two-thirds vote of the student population or do I have to ask someone in the front office?”
Panic flickers through me. “Stay on the court.”
“No. Way.”
“Do it with me. I’ll be right by your side the entire time.” Putting her on the court was my way of pissing her off, but now I want her on it—with me.
“That’s your world. Not mine.”
But it could be her world if she tried. “Nothing will happen with homecoming for another month. How about this—if I can find a way to completely wow you by then, you agree to stay on the court and if I can’t, then I’ll help you remove your name.”
Silence as she contemplates. “Are you asking me to dare you to wow me?”
Even I see the irony. “Guess I am.”
“Should I remind you that you have a lousy track record with me in regards to dares?”
I sit up straighter. “I don’t lose.”
Scott knocks on the door and points at his eyes then points at me. He leaves again. Hell. “Did you come home drunk last night?” The last time Scott and I talked, we were on good terms. Something’s changed.
“No, but you did leave this.” Beth flips her hair over her shoulder and reveals a red-and-blue spot on her neck. Everything within me wants to disintegrate and hide beneath the porch. I gave her a hickey. I haven’t done that to a girl since middle school.
“He hates me,” I say.
Beth laughs. “Something like that.”