Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(74)

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 f*cking      *, you did play me, didn’t you? Does everyone at school already know? Are      you here for bonus points? Try to f*ck 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.”