Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(50)

I suppress the smile edging onto my face. No need to rub it in.      Why couldn’t Lacy be here to see this? “You’ll go with me to the party on      Friday?”

“Yes, but there’s a catch.”

“What type of catch?” I should be focusing more on the word       catch, but I can’t when Beth nibbles on her      bottom lip. I love those lips.

“My uncle is a little control-freakish and he’ll want to talk      to you.”

This day keeps getting better. I win the dare and I get to talk      to my hero. Plus, I get to spend time with Beth. Maybe Lacy’s right. Maybe there      is more to her. “Sure. I can come by early on Friday.”

Beth readjusts the pack hanging on her shoulder. “Actually, I      was wondering if you could come over tonight and meet him. Maybe we could hang      out after.”

I love my life. The girl is asking me out. “Yeah, sure.” Damn. My mind becomes chaos as I remember my      plans. “Wait. I would love to, but I have ball practice with the team and then      pitch practice in Louisville tonight.”

She lowers her head. “Oh. Okay, I guess. If you can’t, you      can’t, but tonight’s the only night Scott’s going to be home.”

I am not blowing off this change of heart. If she’s anything      like Lacy, she could have a total mood reversal in three minutes. “I can come      over after ball and meet your uncle and then you could ride with me into      Louisville. We could go out to eat after practice. That is, if you’re okay with      sitting through an hour of me pitching.”

She raises her head and flashes this glorious smile. “If you      don’t mind.”

Mind? I can’t think of anything I want more. I just won the      dare.

*

Standing on Scott Risk’s front porch, I yank the bill of      my baseball hat and wipe my hands on my athletic pants. This is it. I’m about to      walk into my hero’s home. Two knocks and the door swings open. Staring back at      me, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, is Scott Risk.

“Good afternoon, Ryan.” His eyebrows rise to give the      impression he’s surprised.

“Good afternoon.” I rub the back of my head when the tension      starts to form in my neck. “Is, uh, Beth here?”

An easy grin spreads across his face. “She’d better be, but I      did just piss her off. It might not be a bad idea to check to see if she snuck      out the window.”

Having no idea what to say back, I shove my hands in my      pockets. He laughs. “Elisabeth and I don’t work well together on her homework.      Come on in. She said you two made plans, but I have to admit I was wondering if      she was messing with me.”

“Is she ready, Mr. Risk?” Amazed and starstruck, I walk in.      This place is huge.

“Call me Scott,” he says, then hollers, “Elisabeth!”

Something hard smacks the door to our right. “Fuck you!”

I sigh heavily and a knot forms between my shoulder blades. The      pendulum swings on the mood spectrum. Guess we’re back to crazy. Can’t wait to      see what Friday night will bring.

“You have company!”

Silence. The door squeaks as it slowly opens.

“Hello, Ryan.” Beth rests her hip against the door frame and my      heart stutters. She changed from the T-shirt to a black tank top, exposing a      hint of beautiful cleavage. “See. I told you he stares.”

Damn. I do. And I did it right in front of Scott Risk.

Scott claps my back. “It’s okay. But try not to stare too hard      in front of me. At some point I’ll stop finding it amusing and might have to      kick your ass. And, Elisabeth? Fuck isn’t      allowed.”

She shrugs, clearly not caring what’s allowed.

“Get yourself together,” Scott says to Beth. “I’m going to talk      to Ryan for a bit, then you can go.”

Beth glances at her clothes. “I am together.”

“I see skin. Lots of it. Come back out when there is less      skin.”

She sighs and does this slow pivot. As she walks into her room      her hips have this easy sway that makes me stare—once again.

“I received something yesterday that you’ll appreciate.” Scott      crosses the foyer to the room opposite Beth’s and motions for me to follow.

The moment I enter the large office I’m in awe. Baseball.      Everywhere. Jerseys in glass frames. Balls. Bats. Cards in display cases. Scott      pulls out a see-through box and hands it to me. My mouth gapes. “Babe Ruth. You      have a baseball signed by Babe Ruth?”