Page 45 of Love Me, I Dare You

Maybe it was because daddy wasn’t supposed to be home, though he ended up showing up after all. I’d heard them arguing in the kitchen later that night, which was why I’d chosen to sneak out. I was so angry at their hatred toward Nash, because for me, that meant they’d never accept anything between us. Not that Nash had ever given me any inkling of attraction toward me, not until that night when he’d almost kissed me on the back of his motorcycle.

It was nearly two in the morning when I heard the back door close and Jase creep up the stairs quietly to not get caught sneaking back in. They left again shortly after dinner, this time to a music festival just outside of our neighboring town, Rivers Bend. I’d been up for hours knowing where the two of them had snuck off to and couldn’t sleep.

For one, I was pissed off because they refused to let me join them. Quickly I changed out of my matching pajama set, one that had tiny little red hearts on it, and into a pair of denim shorts and a thin white camisole that was thin enough you could see my bra underneath—if I was wearing one.

I wanted Nash to notice me and thought this ought to do the trick. He was almost eighteen, so I knew I had to act fast. After fluffing my hair in the mirror, adding a slight bit of mascara and lip gloss to an otherwise already washed face, I slipped into a pair of sneakers, tiptoed down the stairs and out the same door Jase had just locked.

The warm, humid breeze of a Carolina summer met me as I stepped out onto the back porch. Closing my eyes for a second to take in the soft singing of the crickets against the bristle of the trees, I inhaled a sharp breath, willing the courage to do this. I was in no position to make a move on him. I was sixteen and the only thing I’d ever done with a boy was kiss one at our church camp last summer.

Even so, I wanted Nash to kiss me. I was going to make Nash kiss me.

I heard the gravelly tone of his voice before I saw him. Smelled the scent of his nature made cologne and the cigarette smoke on his lips before I felt him creep behind me. It was the pit of summer, so the temperature never dropped below seventy-five, making this one of the hottest summers we’d seen in years, yet my skin was still alight with goosebumps and a chilling sensation that ran through me.

It was electrifying, followed by the heat of his breath on the back of my neck. I didn’t dare look back and wasn’t expecting to run into him so soon, so close to my house. I thought maybe I’d run over to the end of our property line and find him riding off on his motorcycle, but there he was, standing on my back porch, breathing the same air I was. Only I was currently holding my breath.

I knew he could see me, all of me, as I stood under the bright sensor light hung up on the pergola above us. He inhaled a sharp breath, letting out a satisfied groan as the short stubble of his chin tickled my skin, eliciting another shock wave of goosebumps and heat to flash through me.

“Good girls aren’t supposed to be out this late at night,” he whispered into the crook of my neck. “This is when the big bad wolves who eat sweet little girls like you are lurking about.”

I closed my eyes as my heart stammered in my chest. My curiosity turned into annoyance as I abruptly turned, nearly crashing against him because of how close he was to me. He reached for me, one hand snaking behind my back to keep me from falling.

“Who…” The willpower in my voice faded as his fingers grazed the skin of my lower back beneath my top. “Who said anything about me being a good girl?”

His chuckle was deep, loud, and mocking, while his grin was wide and mischievous. I hated being underestimated. Hated the way everyone saw me. A good girl was the worst possible thing you could be called. Because a good girl meant weak, placid and complacent. Someone who wouldn’t speak their mind or cause trouble by running their mouth. I was obedient, unproblematic—a pathological people pleaser—and none of that was something Nash would ever want.

“Angel,” he murmured, his voice so deep it almost sounded like a growl. Very spot on to his comment about wild wolves hunting at night. He watched me with a curious expression, smirking like the word angel was meant as a taunt.

It pissed me off he wasn’t taking me seriously. No one ever did. “Well, what if I don’t want to be good?” My voice came out breathier than I’d planned, but that’s what being this close to him did to me.

I was trembling in his grasp. The mere closeness of his touch was too much. I wasn’t sure I’d survive if he put his lips on me. Nash’s teasing smirk transformed into a straight line as his brows furrowed between his forehead. It wasn’t at all what he was expecting me to say, but I also couldn’t gauge his reaction once I had.

Was it desire that crossed his mind? Or annoyance?

Nash took my hand and led me to the edge of the yard where his motorcycle was parked. We didn’t exchange any words. He didn’t tell me where he was dragging me, and I didn’t ask. I was too afraid if I spoke, he’d realize what he was doing and change his mind. I couldn’t chance that from happening. This was the furthest I’d ever gotten with him. Even on the Ferris wheel all we’d done was talk. Well, he talked. I just sat across from him nervously, fiddling with my fingers on my lap.

Like I’d first assumed, his bike was parked out by the end of the barn, hidden behind the large oak tree. He must have walkedJase back to the house. I thought I’d heard him stumble as he made it to his room, probably drunk as he was most times he’d come home late at night.

“Where are we going?” I asked quickly, regretting having snuck out of my bed. I was wandering the ranch with Nash Bishop at two o’clock in the morning when I should have been tucked nicely into my bed, sound asleep.

“To get into a little trouble. You up for it, Bailey King?” A thrill of exhilaration shot through me at the prospect of getting into trouble, like Nash had said. I’d never done it. Never stepped out of line or risked doing something that would end up with me on the wrong side of the law.

Nash‌ was known to cause trouble and, to be honest, it’s what drew me to him from the beginning. He lived on the edge. Was unapologetically himself and didn't care if people approved or not. He knew the gossip that surrounded him and his family, but he never cared. If it did, he never let it show.

For a girl who cared too much what the world thought of her, I aimed to be as careless and carefree as Nash Bishop.

We arrived at his motorcycle, a brand new, sleek black Harley Davidson he’d gotten about a year or so ago. Out of nowhere, one day he showed up on his motorcycle and my mama nearly had an aneurysm when Jase had asked her for one the following week. Of course he didn’t get one as mama said that’s what the devil paraded around hell on.

“Hop on, B,” he said, pointing for me to straddle the seat. I stood there frozen, unable to breathe as I stared at him. His eyes left mine for no longer than a second as he glimpsed down at the hard peaks, clearly visible through the thin camisole. I was sweating, yet by the looks of it, you’d think it was the middle of winter. His lips quirked up into a wicked grin, his tongue slipping out to graze his bottom lip before he bit down. Myinsides turned to mush, but I kept as much composure as I could manage.

Before I could make a move, his hands landed on my waist and he hoisted me up onto the seat himself. I gasped as the cool leather of the seat between my legs cooled the heat from within. “Nash, what are you…”

“You wanted trouble, didn’t you?” he asked as he leaned over me, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me tight. A low, gravelly chuckle left his lips as they grazed so close to mine I could almost taste what he’s just smoked. “We’re going for a ride.”

He hopped on the bike in front of me, not bothering to put a helmet on or give me one, and revved up the engine, making way more noise than necessary. “Quit it Nash, you’re going to wake up my daddy.” His sharp laugh made me realize how childish I’d just sounded. “Don’t we need helmets?” I asked, my hands trembling at my sides.

“We ain’t going far, B. I’ll take it slow, unless you don't want me to.” The look he gave me as he gazed over his shoulder let me know there was a hidden innuendo in his comment I hadn’t caught on to as quickly as I should have.

I didn’t respond, my body growing more tense the longer we sat there in silence, only the soft humming of the engine heard in the night. Reaching back for my hands, he wrapped them around his torso, my palms lying flat against his chest and the gray t-shirt he wore. A t-shirt I know he’d just bought, as it had the name of the music festival he and Jase had snuck off to.

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