Page 8 of Love Me, I Dare You

His eyes move, looking me up and down with delight before zeroing in on the ink along my shoulder that twists like a vine across my upper arm—a rose vine with thorns and a honey bee nestled along one of the petals. It was the most intricate piece I’d gotten done thus far, but it was one I absolutely adored.

“I can see that,” he says, at a loss for words. It’s obvious he wasn't expecting me to look, well, anything like I do now. If it weren't for my blonde hair and blue eyes, I’d say I look nothing like the girl he once knew. Because I am nothing like her anymore.

“Not that you’d know given you’ve been gone all this time.”

The deep chuckle that leaves him resonates deep within me, straight to my core. Goosebumps erupt over my skin and I have to squeeze my thighs together to suppress the need coursing through me. It’s troubling that I'm this aroused by the mere sight and sound of his voice, and it makes me hate the asshole even more.

“Is that your way of saying you missed me, Angel?”

He winks, and for a moment, I’m stunned speechless. The sound of the word angel leaving his lips has me nearly collapsing from how much it hurt to have him call me that when it meant nothing more to him than a five letter word, he mindlessly threw around. Looking back at it now, it was said as an insult for my naivety and stupidity.

“Not a damn second, Bishop. It’s like you never existed.”

I know he doesn’t believe it, but for a split second, a flash of something resembling hurt passes over his expression. Or possibly regret? Though I don’t ponder on that one for too long.

Nash doesn’t look like a man who’d regret much. The glimpse of emotion is gone before I can decipher it, and even if I’d actually tried to, it’s like the man has perfected the mask he wears to hide any emotion he might feel.

Despite how my entire body is ablaze from the mere sight of him in those leather boots and jacket, his presence feels cold and distant. His expression remains solemn even through the teasing smirk he flashes my way when he catches me staring. Years of trauma and loneliness mark his skin like invisible ink tracing every scar the last ten years have left.

No amount of time or practice could hide the depth of the scars he’s gathered since the last time I laid eyes on him. He was always mischievous and carried forth an air of danger, but was also playful and kind with me whenever we were together. We were friends, at least I allowed myself to believe we were, but friends never looked at each other the way we did. Friends never betrayed one another and left without saying goodbye, which leads me to believe our friendship was one-sided and meant more to me than it ever had him.

“Bailey,” Penny murmurs, suddenly reminding me Nash and I are not alone in the bar and instead have every single patron, except old Earl who’s gone back to his bickering, meticulously watching us like we’re their form of entertainment for the night. By this time tomorrow, all of Crossroads will be privy to the conversation Nash and I are currently having.

“Can I get y’all some popcorn for the show too?” I shout, my sarcasm heavy and cold as I let my rage get the best of me. The look I get from a group of women closest to us is unmatched. I can only hope the dim lighting of the bar hides the red tint on my cheeks of embarrassment for how I’ve allowed myself to get so riled up by Nash I’m now insulting my customers.

I’m not rude, at least never to my customers or any individuals who didn’t betray me, and I’ve spent a decade hating. That’s just the feeling Nash incites within me. His mere presence is infuriating, especially the way he continues to watch me like I’ve grown another head and am not the same person he’s always known.

Mind you, I may look different, but that’s what time does to a person. Time might heal, but it also alters one's state of mind.

The band dives back into a rendition ofWhiskey Glasses, as every patron’s gaze leaves us and suddenly the bar is once again alive with noise and chatter. No doubt every conversation is surely about us, though at least they’re no longer staring at me like I’m some circus clown.

I chance a look at Penny, who looks smitten as she stares at Nash. “Hi Nash,” she coos, her cheeks flaming pink the longer she stares.

“Penelope Taylor,” Nash says, his voice slick and sultry. Goddamnit, does he have to sound like everything coming out of his mouth is sexual? “It’s good to see you.”

I’m dumbstruck by the fact these two know each other, then remember Penny grew up in Crossroads before moving away. I can’t help being annoyed by the way she twirls a strand of her hair and gives him a shy smile.

I let out a scoff as I turn back to Penny, slightly more enraged than I should be. “Pen, like I said, write it off as miscellaneous cleaning expenses, and I’ll talk to Jase when he gets in tomorrow.”

My voice comes out sharper than I’d planned, but she gets the idea when she startles and her gaze leaves Nash. He chuckles behind me and I curse to myself for being so goddamn obvious. This man is unnerving, and it’s really annoying me.

Penny stutters as she speaks. “B, Jase won’t be back for a few days. I thought he’d told you?”

That’s newsworthy. No, my brother did not tell me he’ll be gone for a few days. “He asked me to come in for him tonight cause he needed the night off but never said anything about being gone for a few days.” I’m supposed to have tomorrow night off.

Penny’s nervousness comes back in full force. “I’m sorry, B. I thought you knew. He said something about going down to Raleigh for a few days to meet with some new buyer.”

“Thanks, Penny. I’ll give him a call. I’m sure he just forgot to mention it.” She nods and heads back into the office we share down the long corridor to the right of us.

I close my eyes and pray that Nash gets a hint and is no longer standing behind me, though when he says my name, my entire body reacts.

“It’s good to see you, Bailey King.”

My heart skips a beat as my name leaves his lips. The stupid little girl who harbored a major crush on him suddenly appears after I’ve spent the last decade trying to bury her far beneath the surface.How is it he still has that pull with me? And why is he here torturing me when he knew exactly how I felt about him and left anyway?

“Wish I could say the same, Bishop.”

Once again he feigns he’s wounded, his playful demeanor back as he taunts me. “What happened to you, B?” he asks, leaning in closer. I’m hit with a whiff of his scent and have to stop myself from closing my eyes to indulge in how good it feels to have him close to me. “Where’s the sweet Southern Belle who never swore or broke the rules? Cause the woman I’m staring at right now,” he groans, playfully licking his lips as his gaze travels down my body and back up. “She’s definitely not the same one.”

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