Chapter Six
Anger followed Warren, dogging his steps as he stalked across the field and back toward town. He didn’t look behind him to see if Erin was following. She was. God forbid she sit down and enjoy the afterglow. No, Erin had to panic and throw up whatever barriers between them she could come up with. Tonight, that was the game.
You knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
Yeah, he had. But that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. He felt edgy and like he was in danger of snapping. Warren took a deep breath and did his damnedest to rein it in. It took the better part of ten minutes to reach Main Street again, and the walk didn’t do a single thing to cool his temper. He looked around. The sheriff wasn’t in sight. That’s something, at least.
He started to turn back to her, but stopped when his gaze landed on the water tower tucked back behind the buildings lining the street. He didn’t need light to know the faded white tower was covered in decades’ worth of graffiti, each graduating class determined to leave their mark, whether they were leaving Wellingford in the rearview or settling here for good.
He pointed. “Climb that.”
“What?”
The shock in her voice slammed him back into reality. What the fuck was he thinking? Erin was terrified of heights. While twenty feet up wasn’t a big deal to him, it would be to her. During that one summer together, she’d let herself be egged into cliff jumping by one of the asshole local boys, and she’d had a panic attack once she reached the top. He’d barely been able to get her back down again without having to call someone for help.
Warren rubbed a hand over his face, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. So much for pulling out all the stops of seduction. She pricks your pride and the first thing you do is throw her under the bus. Way to be an asshole. “Never mind.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” She stopped next to him, her gaze trained on the water tower. “You want to be a dick and make me climb the water tower, fine. I’ll do it.”
“Erin—” What the hell were they doing? He’d wanted to reclaim some of that first crazy summer together, and it seemed like with each dare, they spiraled a bit further out of control. Can’t just ask a woman on a date, can you, Davis? You have to challenge her to a game that’s going to get one or both of you arrested and has you acting like a goddamn fool.
“The rules are what they are. No changing dares once you put them out there.” She marched across the street and moved around the antiques store, forcing him to hurry to keep up.
“Fuck the rules.”
She stopped so suddenly, he almost ran into her, and she spun to face him. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need you to go easy on me.” Then she was gone, striding to the ladder of the water tower and hauling herself off the ground.
Warren didn’t hesitate. He went after her. “You’re being stupid.”
Her voice drifted down from above him as she hauled herself higher. “I’m not the stupid one in this equation.”
He wished he could argue that, but she had a point. He’d pushed her into this game for his own reasons, and he’d been the one to bring them to the edge again and again. He knew she wanted her space from him—the fact that she’d gone out of her way to avoid him the last time they saw each other spoke volumes—and he’d still dragged her into the barn. Then, when her reaction hurt his pride, he acted like a little bitch by daring her to do something he knew would scare the shit out of her.
This was so not how his plans for the night were supposed to go.
I am such an asshole.
Above him, she reached the section that lined the circumference of the tower and moved out of the way so he could follow. Erin sat down with her back against the cold metal tower, her breath coming too fast for it to be exertion from the climb. “This was such a dumb idea.”
“I’m not arguing that.” He sat next to her. “This dare was a dick move. I’m sorry.”
“I can handle it.”
He didn’t have any doubts of that. Ever since he’d met her, Erin was always the first to charge into a situation, and she never let impossible odds dissuade her from what she wanted. He was pretty sure she’d made a name for herself on Broadway over the last few years through sheer stubbornness. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” She still didn’t look at him, her gaze trained on something on the horizon.
Hell, he didn’t know. This whole plan was starting to look dumber and dumber as the night went on. She might be a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but he doubted making her climb this tower was the way to her heart. “Why are you really back in town, Freckles? It’s not because of the holidays, is it?”
She went ramrod straight next to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
If he’d had any doubts before, he didn’t now. The questions were just a shot in the dark, but apparently he’d struck gold. “What happened?”
“I don’t remember picking truth.” She laughed, the sound harsh and forced. “It’s not your turn anymore, Warren. It’s mine. Truth or dare?”
He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to fall back to the game. He wanted to have a real fucking conversation for once in their lives. But as usual, Erin wasn’t playing ball. What did you expect?
So he decided to throw her a curve ball. “Truth.”
She whipped around to glare at him. “You’re joking.”
“Serious as a heart attack.” Maybe he’d been going about this the wrong way. If he wanted Erin to open up to him, he’d have to do it first.
He wanted her. He hadn’t had anything as meaningful with another woman—he hadn’t had anything come close. Erin simply flat-out did it for him, and no one else could compare. He just had to get her to admit that. She shivered, and he instantly felt even more like a dickhead. “How about we get off this thing and somewhere warmer before you start with the third degree?”
“You’re the one who picked truth.” But she was already moving to the ladder. He didn’t offer to help as she scrambled down to the ground, and he pretended not to notice how pale she was beneath her bright green hat. Erin wouldn’t thank him for pointing out her fear again, and she might be pissed enough to call quits to the whole night.
She brushed the snow off her gloves. “Where to?”
“The Diner. Coffee’s on me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Is that some sort of innuendo that’s supposed to make me think I’ll be up late?”
“Freckles, you’ve spent nearly a decade living in New York. You people exist on coffee alone.”
A shadow passed over her face, but it was gone before he had the chance to figure out if he’d imagined it or not. “Caught me. Can’t be the city that never sleeps without basically having an IV of caffeine.” She started for Main Street. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Warren followed, wondering what exactly he’d missed. She loved New York. Maybe she was back here for longer than she’d like to be—which, for Erin, was anything more than twenty-four hours—but it wasn’t like she’d moved back permanently.
Was it?