Page 82 of Beautiful Defiance

“Very mature,” I say.

“Hey, go easy on them. They got dropped on their heads by my mom and my aunt.”

The door swings open, and had Rue not smacked me across the shoulder, my jaw would’ve dropped all the way to the ground. Instead, I pick it up off my chest. To say the guy standing on the other side of the door is drop dead gorgeous is an understatement. Spiky jet-ink hair. Deep blue eyes. Dark stubble on a face that would make a saint weep with longing. Tall. Muscular. Tatted. Wearing no shirt. Heather-gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Good God, that V-cut. Sculpted some?

“You must be Leigh.”

I open my mouth. It’s cotton ball dry. I lick my lips. Try uttering a coherent sentence. “I am. Thanks for offering to help us and on short notice.”

“Any friend of Rue’s is a friend of mine.”

“Stop kissing up, man. She ain’t gonna help you get in Riley’s good graces.”

An equally sexy Adonis steps up to the door, and shoving Midnight aside, he sticks out his hand.

“Dare. Nice to meet you, Leigh.”

“You too.”

“Come inside our abode. Your bedrooms await you.” He rolls his arm and ducks his head.

Midnight pushes him into the door.

“Stop being a dumbass.”

I smile. Yep, boys.

For the rest of our time, we go over the plan, then get ready for the party. The party is at this rich guy’s place a few blocks from campus. Galley Rutherford is a rugby player known for throwing wild parties. If we can get him and his friends, Xander Brody and Zeke Harrington, to stick with Henry, Henry will be set for the rest of his time at Dumas University.

The girls will love him, and the guys will want to “hang” with him is what Dare promises. Those guys are that popular and have that much sway on and off campus.

“Hey, Leigh, test something for me?”

“What’s that?” I rise off the couch, smooth my palm over my red mini dress, and walk over to Dare. He’s on the other side of the wet bar.

“There’s this thing going around campus. Can two people fall in love if they look into each other’s eyes for four minutes?”

“Four minutes is a long time,” I say.

“That’s a minute of time out hugging times four,” Rue says before she pops a potato chip into her mouth.

“I can do the math, Rue.”

“Just saying.”

“Fine. I can handle four minutes.”

“Yes or no?” Dare asks.

“My vote is no, two people cannot fall in love from only looking into each other’s eyes.”

“Four minutes, Leigh. That’s the kicker. We’re not talking seconds or a minute. This is two-hundred and forty seconds of intense eye-fucking.”

“Eloquent.”

Laughing, he points to the barstools on the other side of the wet bar. We sit knee to knee. Red and Rue watch. I rest my arm on the counter, and tipping my head, I meet Dare’s gaze. His aqua-colored eyes sparkle. I smile back. Thick fingers skim along my thigh and touch bare skin where the hem of my dress rides up. I smack his hand aside. He smiles and stares back at me. We stay like that for four minutes. Except we do more than look into each other’s eyes.

Dare touches my knee, my thigh, my shoulder, and delves his fingers into my hair. I caress his face. Run my knuckles over his coarse stubble. Clutch and squeeze his tatted arms. The sinewy fibers of his muscles dance to my every whim.

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