Page 55 of Love Me, I Dare You

Billie blames it on her pregnancy hormones, but I know it’s much more than that. There’s something she’s unsure about, something other than her pregnancy and future as a single mother that has her always so in her head. I just haven't figured out what it is or how to help her.

How can I when I’m a complete train-wreck myself?

The unread text message from Nash is burning a hole through my pocket, my curiosity begging me to open it and find out what it is he wants. Fear holds me back from opening up to them and confessing what’s troubling my mind, just as I would have done by now if he were anyone else. They both know how I’ve felt about Nash in the past and that not much has changed. But he’s Monroe’s brother, and I doubt she’d want to hear how I can’t get him out of my head.

So now, it’s not as easy as it sounds to openly share the current state of my life with my two best friends. I know they’d both be understanding, but those reasons alone are whyI’m so reluctant to come clean. Monroe would never judge me for falling back under Nash’s spell, nor would she ever hold it against me. If anything, she’d be the most understanding while Billie would obsess about being right and just want to know if I fucked him and how good it was.

However, I can’t hold it in any longer. My hands are shaking, my heart’s racing, and I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t get this off my chest.

Closing my eyes, I inhale a sharp breath before blurting the words out like word vomit I’m unable to hold back. “I almost let him fuck me in the shower while he lathered shampoo in my hair, only to wrap my legs around his head while he fucked me with his fingers and tongue.”

The older man beside our table, who is luckily alone, turns back and raises his eyebrows in disbelief. I can’t believe I just said all of that out loud, though I’m grateful I was at least smart enough to not say Nash’s name.

“Sorry,” I whisper to the man who I luckily don’t recognize, and he simply raises his glass and goes back to whatever he was thinking about before.

Neither one of them says a damn thing, both just stare at me with shock stricken expressions. Billie’s the first one to speak, though not to me. Instead, she raises a hand, calling Penny over.

“What can I get you ladies?” Penny asks, her gaze flicking back and forth between the three of us, noticing something is clearly going on, though she doesn’t ask.

“Three shots of tequila and a diet coke, please.” Monroe glares at Billie, but she just shrugs her off. “Oh, and a basket of fries and another of hush puppies.”

“You got it, boss,” Penny says before heading back over to the bar for our drinks.

Once Penny is out of earshot, Monroe turns to Billie and smacks her on the arm. “Billie, what the hell? You know I can’t take the shot.”

“Don’t worry darling, the extra shot is for me. You can have the diet coke. Though if you don’t want anyone suspecting about your…” She says nothing but motions to Monroe's stomach. “Situation, you better pretend to take the shot with us because holy fuck. I knew it.”

“Wait, how did you…” I want to ask, but Billie interrupts me before I can.

“I mean, I didn’t know it already happened, but I sure as hell knew it would. Come on B, you guys are fucking electric when you’re in the same room together. The tension is so palpable it nearly sets the room ablaze with equal amounts of lust and hate. I knew it was bound to happen. The man is sex on legs and he’s living in your apartment.”

Monroe covers her ears and gags. “Please, that’s my brother you’re talking about. Tone down the details, both of you.” I cringe at the thought of ever hearing either of them say that about any of my two brothers and instantly regret being so descriptive.

“Sorry Moe, I shouldn’t have said anything, but I literally felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t come clean.”

Monroe nods, assuring me she understands, though the concern doesn’t leave her face. “Did this happen today?”

Cradling my face in my hands because I’m suddenly unable to look them in the eye, I shake my head. “No, it happened the morning after I sprained my ankle.”

Billie gasps and claps her hands like a giddy little girl. “Yes, I knew it!” She shifts to face Monroe. “I told you. The way he showed up and was like,I’m going to take her to the hospital,and whisked her away. Please, tell us everything.” Her impression of Nash is embarrassing and I’m not the only onewho thinks so, since the same man next to our table gives Billie a weird look.

“Maybe not everything,” Monroe pleads.

“Wait, how did you…never mind.” I want to ask, but remember how Nash texted the girls when we arrived back at the apartment since I was too drugged up to do it myself. “That night after we left, he took me to the hospital and stayed with me the entire time, being so attentive when Dr. Dawson gave me instructions on how to change the bandage and when to take the medication he’d prescribed me. When we headed back to the apartment, I fell asleep in the truck. Nash carried me upstairs and put me to bed, though not before undressing me and changing me into something more comfortable.”

“He undressed you while you were asleep?” Monroe asks, horrified that her brother could have done something to me without my full consent.

“No, of course not. He only slipped the dress off me to make me more comfortable, since it wasn’t exactly meant to wear as pajamas. Anyway, he changed me into one of my old t-shirts—a shirt he’d given me nearly twelve years ago.”

“Wait what?” They say in unison, wearing equally confused expressions.

“Remember the Colton County Country Music Festival t-shirt I wore to bed for an entire year after he left?”

“Ooh,” they say in understanding.

“I don’t know how that was the first one he reached for, but he did. The next morning, I woke up to find him shirtless in bed next to me. Nothing happened, but apparently in my medicated state—courtesy of the painkillers Dr. Dawson prescribed me—I asked him to stay with me. I faintly remember doing so, but when I woke up, I was utterly mortified that he'd seen the shirt and now knew I’d spent ten years pining for him.”

“Did he say anything?”

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