Page 22 of If You Dare

She leaves me with Maxwell, giggling and flirting with Luke in the kitchen as they play a drinking game. Maxwell and I talk about class, writing, and books for the next half hour. He’s cute, he’s nice, he’s easy to talk to. The ideal guy to have a crush on, to date, to take my first kiss. Logical, practical, rational.

Yet my heart is still full of irrational feelings for Wes. When I imagine myself leaning in to kiss Maxwell, all I see is Wes Novak’s face.

Just as Maxwell drapes an arm across the couch behind me and his gaze falls to my mouth, Chloe stumbles from the kitchen and bumps into my legs.

“Luke left.” Her bottom lip puffs out in a pout. “Now I’m b-bored.”

She avoids alcohol so she can stay in the best possible shape for figure skating, but she’s clearly drunk now.

“Sorry,” I tell Maxwell. “I need to get her home.”

Before she passes out and becomes dead weight. Secretly, I’m glad she interrupted before Maxwell could kiss me. I know I wouldn’t have stopped him, but I also don’t want to share that first with him.

I want that with someone else.

“No problem. See you in class.”

I manage to get Chloe outside and onto the porch before she drops to her butt and leans against the railing, eyes fluttering shut.

“No, not here, Chloe. Come on. We don’t have that much farther.”

She waves me off, and no matter how much I tug on her arm, she’s not budging.

I dig in her front pocket for her phone and convince her to open her eyes long enough to unlock it. Wes is in her emergency contacts.

If you end up in a bad situation, you call me.

Both of you.

The phone rings, and I hope he’s not drunk or passed out at a party too.

On the third ring, a low baritone hums in my ear. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, this is Violet.”

“Violet.” His voice floods me with a warmth that makes my thighs clench.

“Chloe and I are at the Sigma Chi party, and she’s kind of passed out. Could you come help me get her back to the dorm?”

“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up without another word.

Chloe is drunkenly snoring by the time Wes shows up five minutes later. He shakes his head before scooping her up effortlessly.

An insane part of me wishes that I was the drunk friend and Chloe was the one who called Wes for help so I’d be the one in his arms right now.

When he fixes his gaze on me, he halts. I melt under his stare as he takes in every inch of me, from my curled hair to the low-cut top down to the thighs that are almost entirely exposed by the tiny piece of fabric that barely passes for a skirt.

No one’s ever looked at me like this before.

Wes clears his throat. “You ready?”

I manage a nod.

He tucks Chloe into the backseat of his car, and my heart nearly stops when he opens the passenger side door for me. A small gesture that shouldn’t make me swoon as much as it does. Maybe he’s checking out my ass as I slide in.

God, I hope so.

When he’s behind the wheel and we’re headed for Nohren Hall, Wes asks, “How many drinks did she have?”

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