Dare Me(9)

I turn on the faucet and pump my hands full of soap, inspecting myself in the mirror. I scrub my hands and cup some water from the faucet into my mouth, swishing it around. The taste of bile is still strong on my tongue.

“So how did he do it?” Kinsley asks.

“Do what?” I run my fingers under my eyes to wipe away my eyeliner that has started to bleed.

“Let you down.” She looks away from me. “I saw him smirk, then get serious, then he left quickly. God, I’m sure it was super uncomfortable for both of you.” She laughs. “We shouldn’t have made you do that, Saige. I feel really bad.” For as bad as she feels, her sarcastic tone says otherwise.

Swallowing down my annoyance, I run my fingers through my long hair, adjusting some of the loose curls. “He said yes.” I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile.

But she continues like I didn’t just reply. “I mean, Monday at the office is going to be so awkward—”

Emery cuts her off. “He said what?” She struts over and sidles up next to me. In the mirror’s reflection, I see a quirky smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“He said yes,” I repeat. My stomach twists like I may need to puke again, but it suddenly calms.

“Holy shit,” Kinsley mumbles.

“Our girl has herself a date with Chicago’s most eligible bachelor,” Emery squeals.

“It’s not a date, just drinks,” I remind her, trying to hide my own excitement.

Kinsley stands dumbfounded and confused while Emery’s excitement builds.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” She jumps up and down. “When? Where? What are you going to wear?”

“Stop!” I grab her upper arms to stop her from jumping. “I’m nervous as hell and you’re not helping!” I laugh at her.

Kinsley snaps out of her stunned expression and joins us at the sink. “So details,” she says, and I can’t tell from the look on her face if she’s genuinely interested or jealous.

I shake my head, still not quite believing it. I have a date—drinks!—with Holt Hamilton. “I asked him out for a drink, just like you guys told me to. It was so ridiculous,” I admit, “but he said yes. And then suggested tomorrow night. He’s picking me up at seven. That’s all I know.” Less than twenty-four hours from now. My stomach twists again, this time with anxiety.

“Oh. My. God!” Kinsley exclaims and begins bouncing up and down, mimicking Emery’s earlier freak out. They’re sweet to be happy for me, but it’s just drinks. One time.

I blow out an anxious breath. “Now I need to get home so I can try to get some sleep.”

Emery laughs. “Who are you kidding? There will be no sleeping tonight.”

I have to agree with her. There is no way with the adrenaline coursing through me right now that I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.





Holt

Those f*cking legs.

They were the first thing I noticed when I met Saige. Her legs go on for miles. I thought I was hiring a midwestern farm girl; however, she is anything but. She’s been a bit of a mystery to me—all of her social media accounts are locked down, and no online photos. She’s almost as good at being as invisible as I am, except I paid someone a lot of money to keep me off the Internet. I hired her sight unseen and only because of her last name. Thankfully, her credentials matched exactly what I was looking for, which made it easier on me and less likely for HR to question my motives.

And then I met her. Her and her long dark hair and those f*cking endless legs. She left me speechless. Everything about her was nothing I had expected. Tall and lean. Dark and fair. Kind and ambitious. Mysterious and perfect. Exquisite. She is perfection.

I stand outside Bar 51 and take a deep, cleansing breath. “What the f*ck are you doing, Hamilton?” I run my hands through my hair. I cannot go out for drinks with her. I know I shouldn’t, but f*ck if I could tell her no.

“Mr. Hamilton?” The sound of my name pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn around to find Saige and our other employees huddled together. “You waiting on someone?” Isaiah Gutierrez asks me. I look past him to see Saige standing arm in arm with Rowan Hansen.

“Uh, no. Was just getting some fresh air before I head home.” I turn my attention back to Isaiah. “You guys headed out?”

“Yeah, it’s that time.” He gives a short laugh. His eyes are bloodshot and glossy.

“Well, I hope you all enjoyed your evening,” I tell Isaiah, but I turn my attention back to Saige as I shrug my suit coat on.

The group of them begins to chat and laugh before they disperse. Saige gives me a small wave as she starts to walk away, her arm still looped through Rowan’s. Part of me wants to rip her away from him, and the other part of me is happy she’s found a friend that she can trust—a very gay friend, thankfully.

Rowan helps her keep her balance as they walk down the street, and I smile as she giggles. I catch her look over her shoulder at me one last time before they turn the corner and disappear, but not before I memorize the look of want in her eyes.



My feet hit the pavement with a heavy rhythm this afternoon. Normally, I’d spend an hour in the morning working out in my home gym, but today I slept in and then decided to hit the concrete of the wild Chicago streets to kill some time before I leave to get Saige. The warm, humid lake air fills my lungs, but there is something about the burn that’s full of pain and pleasure—and I like it.