Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(55)

My heart does this strange fluttering. Like it’s stopping and starting at the same time. Heat creeps up my neck and flushes my face. What the hell? I’m blushing again?

“I’m sorry.” Ryan keeps the enduring smile, but it turns a little repentant and his eyes cast down in a shy way.

“No, it was fun.” The most fun I’ve had in weeks. The most fun I’ve had sober in…my mind ticks back and I come up empty. Life sucks sober.

“Yeah.” His eyes become distant and the grin stays on his face, but I can tell it’s a little forced. He blinks and the smile becomes natural again. “Yeah. The creek. I should have told you that was coming. Or slowed down.”

Why I can’t hold eye contact with him for longer than a second, I don’t know. The uncharacteristic bashfulness causes me to feel inadequate and a little…girly? I lace my hands together and focus on them. “Really. It’s okay.

I had fun.”

“Beth?” He hesitates. “Can we start over?”

I eye him—head to toe. No one’s offered me a do-over before. I guess no one thought I was worth it. A strange tugging inside me lifts my lips and causes a floating sensation for about three seconds. Well aware that everything in life is short lived, I feel the smile drop and the heaviness return. Still, I accept the offer.

“Sure.”

The sound of a guy shouting catches our attention. Further into the clearing is a circle of trucks with headlights on and a bonfire in the middle. Kids from school are everywhere.

What am I doing here?

“You ready?” he asks.

No, but I screwed everything up when I tried to run away. “I guess.”

While I’m not a party virgin, a party in the woods with a bonfire is a first for me. A group dances in front of a large rusty Jeep. Others hang near the bonfire or on the tailgates of trucks. The whole setup has a Lord of the Flies quality. At least the movie version of the book.

Ryan and I wade through the knee-deep grass and it crunches beneath my wannabe

Chuck Taylors. Some of the longer blades swat at me, slashing at the bare skin exposed by the rips in my jeans. I hate the country.

The closer we get to the party, the slower I walk and Ryan matches my pace. With each step, he bridges the distance between us and a couple of times his fingers skim against mine.

Butterflies flutter through my blood and the stupid little girl part of me wants him to touch me.

The other part would slug him if he did.

“Parties make you uncomfortable?” he asks.

“When they make me feel like Daniel stepping into the lion’s den.”

I try to suck in my smile when I hear the surprise in his voice. “You know the story?”

Thanks to my short stint in VBS with Lacy, I can recite the books of the Bible, New and Old Testament, and a few other random verses.

“Even the devil knows who God is.”

“You’re not the devil, Beth.”

“Are you sure?”

That sweet smile graces his lips. “No.”

I laugh. It’s a good laugh. The type that digs deep down into my toes and tickles my insides.

What feels even better is the sound of him laughing right along with me.

“Come on. I promise they won’t eat you.

Half the girls here claim they’re vegetarians and I can take the guys.” He does the one thing I hoped for and dreaded: his hand tangles with mine and he tugs gently for me to follow.

I like the touch of his hand. It’s warm.

Strong. And I let the part of me that loved ribbons live for a few seconds and entwine my fingers with his. If I learned one thing from Vacation Bible School, it was that resurrection of the dead is possible.

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**k 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.”