Page 43 of Love Me, I Dare You

I hear her shuffle behind me and curse as I’m nearly caught digging in her underwear drawer like some pervy freak. Tucking the set into my back pocket, careful not to think too deeply about why I do it, I try the second drawer and find an oversized gray t-shirt with holes in it and figure it will do the trick.

As I let the fabric unfold, I recognize the old thing because it used to be mine. The Colton County Country Music Festival was one of the few things I liked about living in this town. Every summer, I looked forward to it and would make the trip down to Rivers Bend with Jase and my brothers.

This year in particular, the summer before our senior year of high school as is printed on the back of the shirt, Jase and I snuck out to go after his parents grounded him and forbid him to join me. It was one of the best nights of my life, and not only because it was one of the best lineups, but because that night as I was leaving the King’s property after dropping off Jase's drunk ass, I ran into her. Bailey had snuck out to see me and she’d gone home wearing my shirt. I knew Jase had one similar to it, but in my heart, I knew this one was mine.

Shaking my head to erase the memory I don’t have the time or energy to decode the meaning of, I make it back to her bed and find she’s not moved an inch and remains fast asleep. Debating what to do, I reach for her, only stopping when I hear the soft buzz of her phone vibrating.

Looking around the room for it, I hear the vibration once more, coming from the jacket currently on the floor. Bending down to pick it out of her pocket, I see a flash of incoming messages from the girls. I’m sure they're just trying to see if she’s made it home safe, and I didn’t run off with her or leave her to fend for herself in some ditch like the monster they think I am.

Bringing the phone to her face, I use the facial recognition feature to unlock it and open up the recent text thread she has with her sister, my sister, and Billie. The first message makes me nearly regret my snooping. But I never was good at remembering things, so I’m not sure what they say about curiosity, the cat and all that.

Billie: So, did ya kiss him yet? Cause golly! Nash Bishop looked like he wanted to kiss the smart ass out of you.

Billie’s correct insinuation about me makes me smile. I don’t give the girl enough credit. She’s quite perceptive and bold enough to say what she’s thinking.

Monroe: Quit it Billie, Bailey knows better than to go there again.

And that quickly reverses it. I can almost feel the anger in Monroe’s message.

Brynn: No, I agree with Bills on this one. Please sister, tell us more.

Brynn: Wait again?

I shake my head at the exchange, scowling down at the screen as I reread my sister’s text.

Bailey knows better than to go there again.

I don’t know why what she says bothers me so much. I’d been correct to assume Billie and Monroe had some sort of idea what happened between Bailey and I. Girls talked about that shit. They honestly must know every detail, but there's something that feels different hearing Monroe acknowledge it.

Could this also be why she hates me so much and is so reluctant to even look my way?

Ignoring the way the messages make me feel, again too tired to decode shit, I type out a quick reply before they send in the national guard for a search and rescue of their best friend.

Bailey: She’s all good. Safe and sound at home, nicely tucked in her bed. No need to worry, my lips remain lipstick free.

Bailey: As for her ankle, by the way, just a sprain. Doctor’s orders are to be off it completely for two days so she won’t be going anywhere. Make whatever arrangements are necessary.

Three dots appear and fade away before coming back with consecutive message replies from all three girls.

Billie: Yes, Nurse Nash.

She replies, adding a winking emoji and another with its tongue out.

Brynn: Ooo, are you going to wear one of those sexy little uniforms? I’d kill to see that.

Monroe: I need proof of life.

The three of them are so different. Billie and Brynn’s playful responses tell me Bailey might not hate me as much as she’s trying to make me believe. Or as much as she’s trying to convince herself, she does.

However, it’s Monroe's reluctance to trust me that has me on edge.How can I prove to the two girls who matter most thatI’m not the same guy they hated for leaving them? But most importantly, do I want to?

Deciding to help Bailey out of the dress and into the more comfortable t-shirt before I send this proof of life Monroe asks for, I set the phone down beside her sleeping body, and reach under her shoulders to bring her to a sitting position.

Her head falls lazily to the side, giving me perfect access to her long, and sleek neck. A neck I want nothing more than to kiss and trace circles along her pulse point with my tongue.

Figuring it’s easier to slip the dress down her arms rather than pull it up over her head, I let the thin straps slide down her shoulder, pushing the silk fabric lower down until my breath gets stuck in my throat when I realize she is in fact not wearing a bra.

“Fuck,” I groan, staring at the plump and full breasts my hands ache to grab, my tongue begging me to let it have just a small taste.

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