Page 7 of If You Dare

Brody is the only one who laughs. Chloe rounds the table and smacks Trey just before a looming, solid figure steps up beside me.

My breath catches in my lungs.

Wes.

How is he always this beautiful? His water-blue eyes take us in, hair just as dark dry as it was wet, full lips neutral and giving nothing away.

“Your sister’s assaulting me,” Trey tells him.

“Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut and she wouldn’t have to.”

Trey scowls, but everyone else laughs.

Wes glances down at me, a smile on his face that makes my legs wobble. Not warm or friendly, exactly. Almost...possessive. Like he already knows he makes my limbs weak. “You joining us, Violet?”

God, the way he says my name...a crazy part of me wants to drop to my knees in worship. Do whatever I need to do to keep him saying my name over and over.

All I can do is nod and sit beside Chloe. When Wes takes the other seat beside me, my stomach twists. He’s so close, his knee nearly brushing mine under the table. I can barely swallow my food.

I’m quickly realizing that being Chloe’s roommate means spending a lot of time holding my breath around Wes Novak.

* * *

Wes

Violet’s into me,but by the way she gets tongue-tied and avoids eye contact, she has no clue the attraction’s mutual.

Something about her fascinates me. Every little movement, every time color rushes to her cheeks, every time she looks at me before quickly glancing away. She’s never been with a guy before, that much is obvious. The thought of being the first man to get her in bed, the first man to make her come, the first cock she has inside her, makes me hard.

Chloe gets the guys talking about hockey, and I smirk. She thinks she can keep me from Violet, but I’m not going to stop this girl if she offers herself up to me on a silver platter.

“So what’s your major?” I ask her.

She struggles to swallow before answering. “Um. English.”

“Cool. You want to be an English teacher?” I bet she’d be a popular teacher. At least among the male students. Especially if she starts wearing clothes that show off that tight little body instead of hiding it.

Her nose scrunches adorably. “No. Actually...I want to be a writer.” There’s that blush again.

“What do you write?”

“Um.” She bites her lip, pushing the pasta around on her plate like she’s searching for an answer.

“What? Do you write erotica or something?” When her eyes widen, my mouth falls open before I laugh. “Doyou? I’ve gotta read it.”

She’s full-on cherry red now. “No! Just...romance.”

“Romance, huh?”

I wonder what kind of dudes she writes about falling in love with. Not guys like me, that’s for sure. Probably sweet, spineless princes who say whatever she wants to hear. Not the kind of guy who will wrap his belt around her throat and fuck her so hard, her nails tear into the mattress.

I lean toward her to whisper in her ear, staring down at her arms as my voice gives her goosebumps. “I still want to read it, even if I can’t get off to it.”

She coughs, rushing for a sip of her water. “Oh. Uh, well, I haven’t written a book yet, so I don’t have anything to really read anyway.”

“You should. I bet you’d be good at it.”

For the first time since I met her, she smiles at me. A bashful little smile that tells me I said the right thing. God, she’s already putty in my hands. I bet if I called her beautiful, she’d be begging for a spot in my bed tonight.

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