Page 15 of Dare You to Love Me

Then, whether she likes it or not, I’m coming for her.

Stella can run, but she can’t hide.

Not from me.

Not from us.

STELLA

Ilift the candy cane mocha with extra whipped cream to my mouth and take a drink. It’s filled with pepperminty goodness. Each small sip helps settle my nerves.

I’m tucked into a corner at the Roasted Bean coffee shop on campus. The place is fully decked out for Christmas with a seven-foot-tall tree parked beside the register, twinkling stars that dance in the windows, evergreen garland draped across the top and dangling down the sides of the chalkboard menu, along with glass ornaments filled with coffee beans that hang from the ceiling above the counter. As if that wasn’t enough holiday overload, all of the employees are wearing headbands with adorable reindeer antlers.

It's like Christmas threw up all over the place.

And I absolutely love it.

This is one of my favorite times of year.

Hockey season being a close second. That thought only turns my attention back to Riggs.

Ugh.

I don’t know what to do.

He’s fired off a dozen texts and tried calling an equal number of times.

I feel like the world’s biggest coward for sneaking out the way I did this morning.

It’s not who I am.

But…

In the harsh light of dawn, everything that happened the night before feels like too much. Like we crossed a line that we’ll never be able to come back from. What I’m most scared of is that we’ve set fire to our relationship.

How is it possible to go back to being just friends after an experience like that?

Maybe we didn’t have sex, but it had come damn close. His thick length had rubbed against me in the most intimate way, making me a hot and needy mess. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

How am I supposed to pretend it never happened?

Is that even possible?

And it all started because the guy caught me masturbating.

While sleeping next to him.

Heat scalds my cheeks at the memory.

Instead of plowing my way through homework, which had been my intention when I’d set up camp on the couch in the coffee shop, I can’t stop dwelling on last night.

A mortified groan works its way up my throat.

What I’ve come to realize is that as much as I’ve been trying to keep everything platonic with Riggs, it hasn’t been that way for a while. The feelings that reared their ugly head yesterday aren’t new.

Although, acknowledging their presence is.

Unable to help myself, I pull out my phone and take another peek at the slew of messages.

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