Page 3 of Dirty Dare

But now I feel like a dick. “Hey, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Again.

I know what heartbreak feels like, and watching my oldest friend race toward it scares the shit out of me.

He nods. Shakes his head. Then turns and socks me on the shoulder to show we’re good. “Fine. Make it up to me. Come to the party. See how it is with Judy. And who knows, maybe you’ll even score some tail yourself.”

Right. That’s not gonna happen, and we both know it. “Look, I can’t miss practice. I’m the captain, and we’ve got a match on Tuesday.” I take the net and move it back to where it belongs. Wipe a smudge from the shelf and try not to think about Neil, alone, watching the girl he loves making up with her ex.

Shit.

“But how about I come by after?”

2

Trevor

Even with the open windows and warm evening breeze blowing through, Danny’s small bungalow smells faintly of fresh paint and cardboard. The few pieces of furniture—including a couch I’m ninety percent sure I crashed on once at his mom’s house—have been pushed against the walls to open the space up for what looks like most of our high school class.

I’ve been reeling since I walked past the “Sold” sign on the front lawn an hour ago. I knew it would be weird coming back and seeing everyone I went to high school with looking and acting more like grown adults than the kids they were when I left. What I wasn’t expecting is all the ways it’s the same.

Kelsey Pinsky is still hanging on Jerry Noble’s arm, only instead of his class ring on her hand, it’s a modest diamond.

Sue Humphries still has the most contagious laugh around.

Bill Waller and Dex Leighton are still manning the bar, but instead of the six-pack abs they sported when they played football, the guys look like they swallowed a pony keg apiece.

Gail Woo and Mary Trayner are still the go-to source for all things gossip around the lakes. A responsibility they take seriously, as evidenced by the way they cornered me the second they walked in.

“But it’s just you? No family or girlfriend in tow?” Gail asks, smoothing her jet black ponytail over one shoulder and not even bothering to disguise the fishing expedition.

“Nah, but Tammy’s married with a baby down in Illinois.” I pull out my phone, flashing my favorite picture of her and Dominic on the lock screen. “She’s about halfway between Springfield and Chicago, and my mom has a place in the town over.”

The women exchange patient looks, and Mary changes tactics. “So, are you going to be playing with the Slayers again next season?”

Wouldn’t I like to know.

Getting called up to fill Ben Boerboom’s spot when he ended up on IR through the end of the season gave me enough ice time to make an impression. Show management what I’ve got and how I can contribute to the team racking up wins.

But Boomer’s cleared to play again and, by all accounts, he’s been busting ass to get game ready.

Where that leaves me? I have no idea.

But this is a party, so I laugh like it’s all good and I haven’t got a care in the world. “Sure hope so.”

Mary winks, eyes sparkling as she leans in close enough that I think she’s maybe trying to give me a peek down her halter. “I bet the girls are swarming.”

They are. Not that it matters to me.

I could say that, tell her the truth. The temptation is there, but even two states away and surrounded by the people I spent a good chunk of my teens with, I can’t share the reason why I have no interest in puck bunnies.

Ironic, considering four years ago I was a stone’s throw from laying it all out there for the world to see.

One night with Cam, and I thought that was it. I’d found what I was looking for, that piece of me I hadn’t even realized I was missing.

One week, and I was ready to change my life. Turn my plans upside down. Give up everything if that’s what it took to hold on to him, to us.

Two weeks, and it was over. After being ready to tell the world, I blew out of town without a single soul knowing what had happened between us. That I wasn’t the same guy I’d been before. That my life, my heart, were changed forever, written over in indelible ink by a man who wanted to erase us.

Christ, it shouldn’t still hurt.

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