Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(41)

Her frustrated sigh sets my muscles on edge.

“She’s an instant celebrity and for some insane reason certain people think she’s cool. You nominated her and everyone at school knows you’ve asked her out, so you give her credibility. If you had told me who she was from the beginning, I could have done some damage control. Befriended her or something. Because of you, she has a shot at winning.”

We broke up and I shouldn’t have to deal with this. I go with the old standby answer:

“I’m sorry for ruining your life, Gwen. The next time I do anything I’ll be sure to get your permission.”

Gwen blurts out, “She’s not your type.”

I blink. “What?”

“Beth’s a little, I don’t know, freakish. I mean, she is kind of pretty if you like the weird my-life-is-a-dark-room sort of pretty. I guess I’m saying you won’t be able to give her the attention she needs. You know, because of baseball. I guess I’m just saying… not her.”

Not her. Anger strangles my gut. And we’re back to the conversation from the dugout—

baseball ruined our relationship. “We broke up and now you’re with Mike.”

I can hear Gwen’s smile. “But you promised we’d be friends. I’m being a good friend.”

Friends. I hate that word. “You’re right.

Beth is pretty.”

“She has a nose ring.” Gwen’s lost the smiling voice.

“I think it’s sexy.” I do.

“I heard she smokes cigarettes.”

“She’s trying to quit.” Yeah, I made that up.

“I heard she has a tattoo on the small of her back.”

Interesting. “I haven’t gotten that far, but I’ll let you know if I do since we’re friends and all.”

An image plays in my mind of lifting the back of Beth’s shirt to reveal her skin, my caress causing her to smile. I bet her skin is smooth, like petals. My fingers fidget with the desire to touch Beth and my blood warms with the idea of her whispering my name. Damn.

The girl really does turn me on. I run a hand over my head, trying to rid my mind of the thought. What the hell?

“Ryan. I’m not kidding. She’s not your type.”

“Then tell me who is.” I say it with more anger than intended, but I’m tired of the game.

“Not her, okay?” Gwen pleads.

The image of touching Beth taunts and confuses me. Three quick raps on my door and Mom enters. “I’ve gotta go.”

“`Night,” Gwen says with disappointment.

Mom wears a matching blue blazer and skirt. She attended a women-only dinner with the mayor’s wife this evening. “Am I interrupting?”

“No.” I toss my phone onto the bedside table.

“You sounded a little upset.” Mom walks over to my dresser, appraises her reflection in the mirror, then readjusts her pearl necklace. “I could hear you in the hallway.”

I shake my head. “Just Gwen.”

Her hands freeze on her necklace and a smile curves her lips. “Are you together again?”

“No.” Mom loved Gwen and I think the breakup was hardest on her.

She continues her grooming. “You should consider it. I heard that both you and Gwen were nominated for homecoming court.”

News travels at lightning speed in our town.

“Yeah.”

“You know, your father and I were nominated for homecoming courts. Both fall and winter.”

“Yep.” She mentioned it. A million times.

They won both times too. If her continued retelling of the events didn’t refresh my memory, the pictures hanging in the family room of them dancing with crowns on is a good reminder.

“I also heard that Scott Risk’s niece was nominated.”

“Uh-huh.” If Mom knows everything, then why is she bothering me?

“What are your thoughts on the niece? Her aunt, Allison Risk, has asked to be nominated for the empty seat on the church event committee.”

And there’s my answer. Respectability. If Beth is an outcast, then Beth’s guardians will be considered bad parents. Mom wants the prestige of nominating Scott Risk’s wife, but she doesn’t want the scandal of nominating the guardian of the “bad girl.” Both Mom and Dad’s families have been members of this community since the first foundations of home and church were laid hundreds of years ago.

The Stones are a legacy.

“She’s interesting.”

Mom turns. “Interesting. What does that mean?”

I shrug. It means that Beth’s in the way of my winning a dare. It means she tries my patience. It means I want to see her tattoo.

“Interesting.”

Mom rubs her forehead in frustration. “Fine.

She’s interesting. If you discover another word, you know where to find me.”

Yep, I do. If in public, she’ll be right next to Dad. In private, the exact opposite of where Dad will be. Mom pauses at the door frame.

“And Ryan, I talked to Mrs. Rowe this evening.”

I dip my head and briefly close my eyes. Not good. Not good at all. “Uh-huh.”

“She’s curious as to when you’ll be turning in your paperwork for the final writing competition in Lexington.”