Page 59 of Love Me, I Dare You

I roll my eyes, finally feeling more like myself now that the conversation has shifted to something I’m more comfortable with. “Yes, Nash. If you hadn’t noticed, we have slim pickings around here. Crossroads isn’t the dating pot it once used to be and you are looking at three extremely single girls who refuse to solely look at dating apps to find love.”

I surprise myself with what I say. Since when am I looking for love or a date‌? I haven’t gone out with someone in nearly two years. Actually dated longer than that. Every guy I ever dated, I self-sabotaged, finding every flaw and reason as to why it wasn’t right or wouldn’t work. Most of the excuses being they weren’t the man standing right in front of me. Nash was there, in the back of my mind, every time I tried to put myself out there.

“You mean like actual speed dating?”

Okay, now I’m pissed. Why is he acting like it’s unheard of? Like this is some idiotic plan three desperate women have come up with. “Is there fake speed dating I don’t know about?”

Nash lets out a low rumble, a smile teasing his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. His eyes are low and suddenly radiating a burning desire as they zero in on my chest and the dip of cleavage showing. “That’s definitely not something I don’t want any part of.” He leans in forward, his lips so close to my ear as a firm hand falls to my waist. A jolt of electricity hits me as his fingers dig into the skin showing above my jeans, calloused fingertips tracing soft circles along my heated skin. Goosebumps cover my arms and chest, a sharp zing creeping up my spine at his closeness. He whispers so only I can hear. “I’ll meet you upstairs when you’re done planning your dating party.”

I search his eyes for something, any hint of what he’s thinking, but all I’m met with is an intense need that leaves me breathless. I swallow hard, regaining whatever bit of composure I can manage, but how can I when I’m not thinking clearly? Hating that I’m so out of my element and no longer the confident woman I usually am whenever I’m around anyone else who doesn’t have the name Nash Bishop, I give him a little taste of his own medicine. “Might be a long night. I wouldn’t wait up, Angel.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nash

I’m not in love with Bailey King. In fact, I’m not even certain I understand what the word means.

As a child, I never received it—not from my mom or dad. My brothers and I had each other, but if I truly loved them, I wouldn’t have left and stayed away for so long. Even if I told myself I left because I loved them.

I could have come to them for advice—a way to stop Bismarck King from ruining our lives. Monty was always a problem solver. He would have figured it out if only I’d confided in my brother. Yet the way things turned out for him and Monroe, I can’t see myself regretting any of it.

Until the other morning, when I looked Bailey in the eyes and saw the remnants of the irreparable damage I caused her. There’s no way I could love someone whom I’ve caused nothing but harm to. Yet here I am, sitting on the living room couch, one too small for my large frame, for hours now, waiting for her to come home. My thoughts are flooded with her.

I’ve never allowed a woman to consume my mind the way Bailey has cemented herself in my every thought. Mainlybecause I can count the women I’ve been with in the last decade on one hand. None of them meant anything more than needing to fulfill an urge or to kill time. Most of them ran with the Disciples, chicks passed around amongst the crew with the hopes of one day being claimed by any of them as something more. It took the fun out of it when they swore they loved you with just a look in their direction.

I wasn’t one for casual sex. Though it never dawned on me why that could be. Yet since the day I came back to town and saw Bailey for the first time again, my need for someone, for her, became almost unrecognizable. All I think about is her—wanting to fuck her. To taste her again, to feel her come while my cock is inside her, filling her to the brim. To watch with such adoration how she comes apart for me.

Making Bailey orgasm has become my new addiction, and like any addict, I need another hit. Though, I know it won’t be easy. Not after how she reacted the last time I did.

With a twist of the knob and a jingle of her keys, Bailey enters the apartment, her silhouette illuminated by the dull gleam of the light outside the doorway. She doesn’t immediately see me, but I know the moment she catches sight of me, she won’t be happy. Most likely because I’m sitting like some fucking creep in the dark waiting for her to come home.

With no awareness of her surroundings, something I’ll have to yell at her for at another time, she flicks on a light switch to her right, oblivious to my presence. Once her gaze lands on me, she lets out a deafening shriek.

“What the hell, Nash?” she shouts, her hand flying up to her chest to calm her thrashing heartbeat.

I offer her my sweetest smile. “Welcome home, honey. I was waiting for you.”

As she steps further into the room, my eyes focus on tracking her movements and make sense of what state she’s in. Shedoesn’t seem outright offended by my comment, but she isn’t amused either. Instead, she quietly moves, hanging her bag on the hook by the door and flopping down on the couch beside me. Kicking off her shoes, she rests her legs on the coffee table before us.

“Long night?” I ask, trying to cut the uncomfortable silence.

She huffs out a long sigh as she throws her head back. “You could say that. After a week locked inside doing absolutely nothing, I’m exhausted from just walking downstairs.”

“Weren’t you at the cafe all day?”

Her quizzical gaze darts to me, and I curse under my breath for giving away that I know everything about what she’s done and where she’s been all week. Nor do I admit it was her best friend who reluctantly kept me informed.

The room grows cold, and there’s a quiet tension that spreads as neither one of us knows what our next move should be.

I’ve never felt this way, out of my element, unable to think about what my next move will be. Every time I feel I’ve found the right approach, I second guess myself. I’m not used to this, having always been straightforward about the things I wanted, about the moves I made, but with Bailey, I have no clue what I’m doing. Things between us have never felt so awkward, yet this silence is what’s familiar.

The irony is not lost on me. I’m the one internally blushing because there’s a pretty girl next to me, paying me no attention whatsoever.

Bailey’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Her ability to relate to people, even those she doesn’t know, is unmatched. It may be because her genuine kindness and infectious laughter make her one of the most beloved people in town, despite the trouble she’s brought in for herself in recent years. She’s humble yet proud of her accomplishment and has a way of drawing people in and making them fall in love.

There’s that damn word again. Love.

I’m walking through uncharted territory here. Swimming through perilous waters with no life vest, all to end up back in her good graces.

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