Page 54 of How Dare You

“We sent texts.” Allie points an accusing finger at me. “She didn’t respond. Not our fault.”

“Actually, that is precisely your fault. You dropped me in the middle of nowhere with—” I look toward Rhett, and he’s trying to hide a smirk behind his hand. “Him at a trailer with only one reception rock.”

Bea leans her shoulder against mine from her spot on the bench we’re sharing, tipping thick rose gold sunglasses down her nose. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to enlighten us about what a reception rock is, and why it’s bad to only have one if you want your point to land.”

I gesture toward the three-square feet of reception Rhett’s property has and explain that if I’m not sitting on that rock, I can’t text them. I leave out the part about his Wi-Fi. At some point I decided to give resting a chance, and I’ve left my phone disconnected from it.

Once we’ve all finished eating, Allie wastes no time making everyone mimosas in insulated travel cups. When Sadie points out that no one’s done with their coffees, she rolls her eyes, holding out a cup to her. “And no one’s ever had a mimosa and coffee at the same time.”

Luke mentions something to Rhett about wanting to see the house, and everyone else chimes in with their agreements. A sense of pride that mirrors the look on Rhett’s face bubbles up in my chest. Although, what do I have to be proud about? He’s done nearly all of it himself, and so far, nothing I’ve done has had a chance to be implemented.

It strikes me that I only have a few days left, and it’s a surprising disappointment rather than a relief. I’ve barely gotten started on his house, but more importantly, there is so much more I need to say to him. I’ve been replaying every moment of last night since I was shaken awake this morning. He was right to say that I was being cruel, and I owe him an apology at least. And then the sex. What do I even say to him?

When Bea’s eyes light up as Rhett fills her in on details about the construction, I realize I’m exhilarated for my friends to see how skilled and dedicated he is. Proud that I’m…with him is the wrong term. A friend maybe? That doesn’t seem like enough. I walk over to join the conversation.

“We can ride in the truck bed,” Allie suggests, bouncing on her toes.

Sadie gasps at the idea. “I’ve never done that.”

“You haven’t?” Rhett asks, confusion twisting his features. “How?”

“Just never knew anyone with a truck, I guess,” Sadie shrugs.

“Then I’ll have to make it extra fun.” He smiles at her, and I’m almost shocked she doesn’t melt on the spot. His eyes flash to me for the briefest moment, turning a far more sensual kind of smile at me as he walks past to retrieve blankets to cover the hot metal of the truck bed. He can’t spend all day doing that. Someone will notice. But still, my stomach does a little flip at the attention. And I thought I was in trouble before.

“So, what have you two been up to?” Allie asks with a mischievous glint in her green eyes.

Rhett makes a show of leaning his head closer to hear my response, so I give her a bland answer. “Working on his house.”

Allie scoffs. “That can’t possibly be everything.”

“Maybe later,” I whisper.

“Ooh,” Allie, who doesn’t have a subtle bone in her body, responds even louder than before, “yeah, tell me later.”

Rhett helps Bea and her dog into the truck bed, then Sadie, then holds a hand out for me. “Devon Blake, you’re up.” Last night was the first time he called me by my full name, and somehow between his smirk and the light of day, hearing it again sends a jolt of heat to my core. Once I’m in the truck bed he squeezes my hand before letting go, a tiny intimacy noticeable only to us. Even after everything I said, he doesn’t seem to be upset with me.

Luke lifts up Allie, then Betty, then the squirmy puppy and shuts the tailgate.

“Wait, this is actually fun,” Sadie says, sipping her mimosa and giggling as soon as the truck takes off. We can’t be going more than five or maybe seven miles per hour, but the open air and bumpy dirt road make it a little like an adventure. “Devon!” Sadie exclaims. “I have to tell you about this thing I’m doing now.”

“Oh yeah, this is good,” Allie nods, petting her puppy with soothing strokes.

“So, what’s-his-face didn’t like to let me do fucking anything,” Sadie starts.

“We’re not saying his name anymore,” Bea whispers as Sadie continues.

“He was just the worst.” Sadie scoffs. “Anyway, there are all these things I’ve never done. Some because of him and some just because I lived this very contained life and haven’t had that many interesting experiences. Some are very normal things, like visiting the East Coast or changing my nail shape, but now I’m letting myself explore it all.”

I pull a white spray can of sunscreen from my bag, applying it as she tells her story. “Like riding in the back of a truck?” I ask.

“This wasn’t technically on the list, but I’m adding it.” She giggles. “I’m just trying as many brand-new things as possible.”

It’s a relief to hear her moving on, finding herself without him. She fills me in on the things she’s already tried as well as what’s on her list she’d like help with. We’re talking about training for a half marathon together when Spaghetti squirms out of Allie’s lap and into Sadie’s.

While they’re occupied with managing the puppy, holding her and shushing her, making sure she isn’t tempted to jump over the edge, Bea takes the opportunity to slide along the wall of the truck bed, stopping when we’re shoulder to shoulder. She adjusts her oversized sunglasses. “I saw you in the emails the other day.”

“I may have responded to one or two,” I admit. “But you’re doing an amazing job. I promise I wasn’t checking up on you. It’s just so strange to be disconnected.”

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