Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(52)

“I didn’t say f*cking kidding,” she      responds.

He inclines his head to the right as if to agree that was a      major concession. “When?”

“When what?” I ask.

“When are you picking her up on Friday?”

“Seven.”

“I want her home by nine tonight. Midnight on Friday.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scott turns to Beth. “What are you going to do while he’s      practicing?”

“Watch.”

Scott dips his head in disbelief.

Beth sighs heavily. “Fine. I’ll do homework. I’ll become      studious and add ‘big fat dork’ to my ‘freak’ label. It’s what you want,      right?”

“It’s all I dream about. Go on. Enjoy yourselves.” He enters      the foyer and Beth’s lips twist into that evil smirk. What the hell did I walk      myself into?





Chapter 28

Beth

EVERY NOW AND THEN,      fate smiles in my favor. Yes, I know, hard to believe, but today is one of those      rare days. Last week, Lacy told me Ryan drove into Louisville for coaching      lessons on Wednesdays, and yesterday she told me that the facility is located in      the south side of Louisville, sweetly tucked away a half mile from my home.

Outside of a large metal warehouse, Ryan plucks a bag full      of his baseball crap out of the back of his Jeep and I do my best to keep from      fidgeting. My nerves make it difficult to stay still. I’m so close to my mom      that I can almost taste the cigarette. Be       cool, Beth. This is a hand you have to play carefully. “How long is      practice?”

“An hour. Maybe a little longer.” Ryan slings his bag over      his shoulder. I swear, this guy has the broadest shoulders of any high school      kid I have ever met. He wears a tight T-shirt and my stomach performs tiny flips      when his shirt rides up, exposing his abs.

I sigh and push the thoughts away. The characteristics of      gorgeous and decent don’t mix with wanting me. And while Ryan can be a jerk, he      is...decent. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that what I’m      doing to him is wrong.

Wrong but necessary.

Besides, whatever is going on between us is a game of some      sort. I just haven’t guessed his angle yet. Not that it matters. By the end of      the night, Ryan will hate me and so will Scott. I won’t feel bad about Scott      though. He’s the one that dragged me into this mess and he’ll be much happier      without me. In an hour I will have reached Mom, contacted Isaiah, and we’ll be      out of town. The schedule is tight, but doable.

“Where do you want to go to dinner? There’s an Applebee’s      close by and a T.G.I. Friday’s. Hopefully our dinner conversation will be a lot      better than the silence on the way in.” He pauses. “We can do fast food if you      prefer. I know how you love tacos.”

The first cool breeze of fall blows across the parking lot      and goose bumps rise on my arms. In an hour, I’ll be heading to the beach.

“I said tacos, Beth. Where’s the ‘eff you’ that typically      follows?”

I stare up at him and blink. I’m doing this. I’m actually      going to run away.

Ryan’s eyebrows furrow together and he comes closer to me,      blocking the breeze, or maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body warming me.      “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’s taller than me. Gigantically. I’m not      going to see him again so I let myself notice Ryan as he really is. He’s sexily      hot with his broad shoulders, curved muscles, cute mess of sandy-blond hair      kicking out behind his baseball cap and adorable warm brown eyes. I pretend for      a second that the sincerity in them is real—and for me.

The wind blows again, harder this time, and several strands      of my hair move across my face. Ryan focuses on them. His fingers whisper      against my cheek, then down the sensitive skin on my neck as he brushes the      strands over my shoulder. His touch tickles and burns at the same time.

Heat races to my face and my hands immediately cover my      cheeks. What the hell? I’m blushing. Guys don’t make me blush. Guys don’t want      to make me blush. Confused by my reaction, I step away and reach into my back      pocket to pull out a cigarette I bummed from stoner boy at school. “Give me a      few, okay?”