Page 36 of Love Me, I Dare You

“Monty, don’t. This isn’t about her. It never was and never will be.”

He brushes off the lie I tell, knowing me better than I know myself.

“Bullshit, Nash. I may be getting old, but don’t treat me like I’m some clueless fucking idiot. I know something happened between the two of you. I saw your argument with Jase that night. I saw Mayor King approach you right after, and then what? You’re gone the next day and expect me to think it was some coincidence.”

“Do you know why the Kings hate us?” I ask, knowing damn well the answer to my question. “Do you know what happened between Franklin Bishop and Bismarck King? Do you know why the rivalry between the two men started?”

He doesn't acknowledge it, but I know he does. “I didn’t think you knew.”

“I didn’t, but Franklin made sure I found out before I left. I’ve kept that secret hidden all these years, on top of so many others. So I don’t care if you think it’s some coincidence or not. I’m telling you right now, none of that shit matters.”

“It all matters if you want it too, Nash. You just have to figure out whether you do before it’s too late. Because this time, it won’t be you walking away. It’ll be her.”

Chapter Fifteen

Bailey

We’ve been living together for over a week and neither one of us has ended up dead yet. It’s still early and I’m not making any promises, but things haven’t looked so bad. I call it a win so far.

Maybe it is the fact I’ve avoided him as much as I can, spending most of my mornings at HoneyBees and my nights at Stingers, locked up in my office, letting Jase man the bar for once. There’s no avoiding him tonight. I’ll be home and I’m sure at some point he’ll be here, too.

I took the day off to mentally prepare for being back at my parents' house. Tonight’s their much awaited anniversary party but for me, it’s just another day I’ll be forced to play nice with the people of Crossroads who still have it out for me—my parents' congregation. The group of judgmental creeps who always had so much to say to me when they saw me around town are going to be lit up tonight when they see me in the dress I’ve chosen for the occasion. And it’s not the one my mama gave me.

Unlike the bland beige dress my mama chose for Brynn and me, or the replacement she got me thereafter, the dress I bought—with the help of Monroe and Billie, of course—is exquisite. Fire engine red silk, fitted in all the right places with a floor-length skirt that has a high slit on one side. I’ve paired it with my favorite pair of black heeled boots and a leather jacket to cover the tattoos they all love to judge.

I accessorize the look with some of my favorite mixed metal chains over my neck and matching rings on almost all my fingers. My gold hoops hide behind my blowout waves, and I’ve gone for bold lips with a cool-toned red lipstick and more subtle eyes with a soft shimmer and winged liner.

Fluffing my hair in the mirror, I let it cascade down my back in a blanket of gold. Last time I was at the salon, my hairdresser Sally called it old money blonde after I showed her the photo I’d pulled off the internet for inspiration.

Content with the way I look, I step out of my room, not expecting anyone to be home, and run straight into a hard wall of muscle as Nash turns the corner toward the guest bathroom.

“Shit,” I yelp as I nearly twist my ankle in the boots. Excruciating pain shoots up my leg and threatens to knock me to the ground if I don’t hold on to what’s in front of me. “Oh fuck,” I gasp. Scratch that, I definitely sprained something.

Nash’s hands fly to my waist to hold me up as my leg gives out on me and my body nearly folds in half. “Woah, there, B. Take it easy,” he says, trying his best to hold me without forcing his hands in places they have no business being. “Let’s get you over to the couch.”

Lifting my head as much as I physically can, I look over at the couch, which looks so far away, and urge him to take me back into my bedroom instead. “No, my bed. Please take me to the bed.”

He chuckles, the deep, daunting sound making me increasingly aware of how close he is. “As you wish, Angel.”

Realizing what I said and the way it sounded, I reach out to flick his arm but groan as my foot touches the edge of the bed. “Oh God,” I cry out and this time when Nash laughs harder, I smack him upside the head, clearly understating his insinuation. “Shut it, Bishop, or I’ll kick you with my good one.”

As he sets me down on the edge of my mattress, I look up at him for the first time in days, immediately regretting it when my breath gets caught in my throat. His eyes are bluer than ever under the soft gleam of light coming in from my bedroom window. It’s still light out, but the blackout curtains I keep in here make the space feel darker than it is.

He grins, noticing the way my eyes drink him in. “Just teasing you, B.”

I momentarily flick my gaze away from him and back to the throbbing on my ankle. “What are you even doing here?”

He releases his hold on me for a moment, enough to walk over to turn on the bedroom light, and I must say as he walks with his back to me and those dark blue jeans fitted tight around his ass, all sorts of things happen inside me.

“We had some pipes burst as we were fixing the plumbing in one of the downstairs bathrooms. Dirty water everywhere. I figured I’d take a break and head over here for a shower while Monty went out to the hardware store for the rest of the supplies we need.”

My gaze drops and I suddenly notice his white T-shirt is soaked and clings to his hard, muscular torso, the dark ink on his skin visible through the nearly transparent fabric.

Nash follows my gaze to his chest and reaches a hand behind his neck. In one slow and steady tug, that makes it almost seem as if he’s moving in slow motion, his shirt up and off his shoulders.

I don’t berate him for being shirtless in my room. I can’t when my mouth goes completely dry as I take in every ridge of tan muscle that flexes as he breathes.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry anyway?” he asks as he lowers to his knees before me.

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