Page 56 of Love Me, I Dare You

“He acted completely smug about it, but then suddenly, there was this desire in his eyes that I’d never seen before. I mean, he’d obviously been toying with me since the day he arrived back in town, but the look he gave me then was different. I don’t know how but, it was as if the old Nash I’d fallen for was suddenly back. It was all too much, and I confessed to having worn the shirt for way longer than any sane person would have. The look of pity he gave me was embarrassing, so I ran to the bathroom and jumped into the shower, hoping the water would drown out my tears.”

Monroe extends her hand and sets it on mine, giving me a tight squeeze. “Oh, Bailey, this doesn't sound like it’s going to have a happy ending.”

Billie gently smacks her hand away. “Shh, wait for her to tell us about the orgasms, plural, and then you’ll get your happy ending.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Bills.”

These two bicker like sisters and the way they’re both reacting in such opposing ways is quite amusing. I do as Billie asks and continue, careful not to share too many NSFW details. “Nash followed me into the bathroom and when he stepped into the shower with me, I lost all the fight in me. My need for him took over and…”

“Okay, maybe this is the part where I stop listening.”

“I won’t go into details, Moe. I promise. Nash just suddenly turned into this kind and gentle man who was more worried about soothing my pain and taking care of me. He was then quickly replaced by a man who desired me as much as I did him and was intent on making sure he showed me just how much he craved to be with me. I was entranced, completely taken over by my need for him, that I lost sight of everything else. Though just as quickly, his smug attitude returned, and I realized what a horrible mistake I’d made. I fell back into his trap. Fell for hischarm so easily after years of heartache, knowing it would only happen again when he leaves.”

“Bailey, are you sure that he’s still leaving? I mean, what if he doesn’t? What if he realizes that he wants more of that with you and stays?”

Of course, I thought about the possibility of Nash staying in town. I had an entire week to obsess over every detail and concoct countless scenarios in my head where things would work out between us. Though I don’t see it ever happening. Nash spent ten years away from Crossroads, away from his family and friends. Why would he suddenly stay because of me?

“He had ten years to come back if he wanted something between us. I can’t dwell on the what ifs and fixate on what could have been. I’ve let it haunt me for so long—the ghost of him now, back from the dead, will ruin me if I let it. I have to erase everything that happened from my mind, even if it may seem impossible to, and move on. And I think I have an idea how to do so.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bailey

“Speed dating?” Monroe asks and they both lean in attentively, waiting for me to say more.

“Something of the sorts. I thought about it a few weeks ago, when Billie first mentioned how finding love in Crossroads was nearly impossible and online dating was a nightmare.”

Billie’s eyes widen with curiosity and a hint of mischief. “Go on.”

“I saw a flyer last week, when I went down to Rivers Bend to pick up some supplies Sally over at the Red Barrel had run out of. It was for a dating mixer. I was thinking, what if we host one at Stingers? We can advertise it on Billie’s social media account, post flyers around town, and even send them out to the neighboring communities. I was thinking we can do it during Halloween weekend, since people are also coming down for the weekend of the Harvest Festival. I don’t want to make them too close together. We can even come up with a cool theme.”

Billie’s eyes gleam with excitement and I know she’s going to make sure this event is a total success. She's a planner and lovesa good party. “You know I theme harder than the Met Gala, baby. How aboutCowgirls and Casanovas?”

Monroe’s equally excited and suddenly so am I. “I love that.”

Billie lets out a sharp squeal. “We can have our very own Honky-Tonk Speed Dating Mixer. Grab your boots, hat and ride a cowboy. Yee-haw.”

Our laughter echos in the bar as Penny approaches our table with drinks and food in hand and a warm smile. “Sorry I took so long, ladies.” She sets our shots and the basket of fries and hush puppies down before turning to me. “Bailey, there’s a girl here who’s asking about the help wanted sign outside. I gave her an application, but she’s asking to talk to you if you’re around. I told her you weren’t working tonight but that I’d check. She seemed pretty desperate, and I felt pretty bad.”

I look around and find the woman Penny is referring to, sitting alone at the bar. Her back is turned away from us, and all I can see is a blanket of jet black hair down over her shoulders, so long it nearly covers the pair of cutoff denim shorts she wears. Cowboy boots on her feet and a black strapless crop top, showing off the tattoos on her back and arms. She looks like she’d fit right in with the vibe of Stingers.

Refocusing my attention on the girls, I notice Billie already scrolling through her social media accounts, while Monroe’s pulled out her phone and is currently designing the flyer for the dating mixer. “Do you guys mind if I take care of this real quick?”

Looking up from their phones, they both turn and look her way. “Why don’t you call her over here?” Monroe suggests and I nod, giving Penny the okay to bring her over.

“She’s cute, kind of young, but that can be good for business. I mean, so long as she’s old enough to work in a bar.”

Billie’s right. The woman is an effortless kind of beautiful, yet the closer she gets to our table, it’s obvious she’s much younger.

“How’d she get past the bouncer?” Monroe whispers just as she stands beside our table.

“Hi,” she says, bright green eyes flicking back and forth between the three of us. Something about the girl is so familiar, yet I can’t put my hand on where I know her from.

Her sleek hair shines underneath the glow of the ceiling lights, pin straight and now that she’s standing, falls just above her lower back. A patch of freckles paints the bridge of her nose, and other than a bit of mascara and lip gloss, she’s hardly wearing any makeup yet looks like she’s airbrushed.

Taking a strand of her hair between her fingers, she nervously twirls it in her hand when I don’t immediately reply. “Hi,” I say, realizing how rude it was of me to stare at her without saying anything. “I’m Bailey King.” She nods in understanding. “These are my best friends, Billie Cole and Monroe Bishop.”

“I’m Raven, Raven Dawson,” she says, giving us a soft wave and timid smile.

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