Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(64)

Ryan walks toward a truck where Chris and Logan sit on the      tailgate. They laugh loudly, then stop when they see me. Tucked between Chris’s      legs, Lacy offers me a friendly smile.

“Did the mud call to you again, Ryan?” asks Lacy.

Ryan chuckles. “Yeah.”

Mud? How did Lacy know... I glance down at my outfit.      Mud—everywhere. Just great.

“Hell,” says Chris. “You actually convinced her to show. Did      you give him your phone number too?”

I blink. “What?”

“You’re holding his damn hand.”

Right. I am. Stupid me. The bet. First the phone number.      Then the date. The Jeep ride disoriented me into momentary forgetfulness. Hurt      pricks at my heart and I shove the little girl with ribbons into the dark      recesses of my mind. Some things should never be reborn. I break free from his      hand. So much for Ryan’s offer of starting over.

“Don’t let him snow you,” Chris says while running a finger      down Lacy’s arm. “Ryan’s a charmer.”

Noah touches Echo like that. It’s obvious from school that      Chris is in love with Lacy. Some guys touch girls they love. Others touch girls      they use. The worst touch girls they hurt. I stare at Chris and consider telling      him to go f*ck himself. Yet I can’t find the anger. I’m the moron that walked      into this situation.

“Don’t let Chris get to you,” Ryan retorts. “He’s pissed      because crap comes out of both ends.”

Chris gives a hearty laugh. Ryan slings an arm around my      shoulder and leads me from the group. Um—no. I may have fallen for the      hand-holding before, but I’m not falling for anything else. “Get your arm off of      me before I rip it off and beat the shit out of you with it.”

We’re heading for the bonfire. I feel small underneath his      massive arm, like a girl, and such vulnerability makes me uncomfortable. Instead      of letting go, Ryan effortlessly tucks me under his shoulder. “When you kiss      guys, do they drop dead from the venom that spews out of your mouth?”

“I wish, because I would have kissed you days ago. I’m not      kidding, get the hell off.”

“No.”

No? “Do you have a death wish?”

Ryan strides past the bonfire, and panic sweeps through me      when he guides me into the thick crowd of people dancing. “You owe me one hour.      Remember?”

Rap pounds so loudly from a truck that the ground beneath us      vibrates. Around us people dance. Shimmy. Shake. Laugh. They move in hypnotic      rhythms. Skin against skin. Body against body.

My stomach heaves and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to      vomit. “Screw you. I’m not doing this.”

Ryan bolts in front of me, stopping my retreat. “How about a      deal? One dance and your debt is paid.”

“I don’t dance.” True—I don’t. Truer? I’ve never danced with      a guy.

He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t dance?”

“No.”

The firelight flickers against Ryan’s tan, giving his face a      beautiful bronze glow. Gold shines in his hair. He’s gorgeous. Honestly he is,      and he wants me to dance. Could this day get any worse?

Ryan steps closer and flashes an all-knowing smile that      makes him adorable and me weak. I hate him and I hate myself for wanting him to      touch me again.

The music changes from superfast to a bit slower. Its strong      beat mimics the frantic pounding in my chest. Ryan rests a hand on my hip and      his heat seeps into my skin and creeps into my bloodstream. He lowers his lips      to my ear and his breath tickles the nape of my neck. “Dance with me, Beth.”

“No.” I’m definitely learning impaired. I whispered the      reply. I might as well have screamed yes. This is a mistake, Beth. A huge, glaring mistake. Just run!

Ryan places his other hand on the small of my back and molds      his strong body to mine. I inhale and welcome the scent of warm earth and summer      rain. Ryan smells...delicious.

“This works better if you touch me,” he says.

I loosely lay my hands on his shoulders. Sort of like what I      saw Echo do once when Noah swept her off the bed to dance. My skin tingles.      Touching Ryan, oh God, it’s too much...too intimate. “I’m only doing this      because I owe you.”

“That’s okay.” On rhythm, Ryan moves his hips from side to      side. His hand slides an inch lower and the gentle pressure he exerts on my      thigh stirs my body to sway in time with his. Our feet never leave the ground,      but, I swear, I’m flying.