Page 3 of Truth or Dare

I pulled away, forcing some distance between us. “I’m late for practice.”

His grip tightened briefly on my waist before he let go. His eyes were dark, flashing with frustration. “After the game tomorrow. Randy’s throwing a party.”

I rolled my eyes. “Suppose I don’t want to go?”

“You’re going,” he growled, the possessiveness back in his voice.

I pressed my lips into a thin line and ducked out of the weight room.

"Presley, are you dressed?"my mother's voice carried up the stairs.

I checked my reflection in the mirror, fluffing out my blonde curls. Tonight was going to be a bore—some nerd and his parents. My dad loved to network, and I was just the collateral damage. With a sigh, I bounded downstairs, the smell of cheese puffs hitting me as I entered the kitchen.

"Going all out?" I raised my brow as I watched my mother pull a tray from the oven.

"The Reeves are new in town, and we want to welcome them properly," she said, her tone clipped, as if this whole evening was mission critical.

I plucked a hot cheese puff from the tray and juggled it between my hands, biting into it as I savored the molten cheese. I hadn’t eaten much since lunch—barely touched my salad.

"That's for company," she scolded, giving me a sharp look.

Grinning, I held up the half-eaten puff. "Want me to put it back? Teeth marks and all?"

"Wiseass," she muttered, shaking her head. "Call your brother, and make sure he washes his hands. The Reeves will be here any minute."

I popped the rest of the puff into my mouth and wiped my hands on the dishtowel. Neil, my brother, was totally enamored with Evan, my soon-to-be-ex. I knocked on his bedroom door, hearing some scuffling before it creaked open. His face was flushed, his eyes wide.

I narrowed my eyes. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, voice cracking.

"Uh-huh," I said, unconvinced. "Mom wants you downstairs. And wash your hands."

He groaned dramatically, pushing his sandy hair off his forehead. "Why does Dad make us do this crap?"

"Because he's networking, duh," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"It’s annoying," he grumbled.

"Just get your ass downstairs before Mom freaks."

Neil slammed the door in my face, and seconds later, the rebellious blast of music echoed through the walls. I sighed, shaking my head, relieved that most of his teenage angst would play out while I was away at college.

"Presley, help me with this," my mom called just as the doorbell rang.

I hurried down the stairs, only to freeze when I saw who stepped through the door—Hudson Evert. My breath caught. He wore a crisp pink Oxford shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his forearms, paired with black jeans. My heart pounded as his eyes locked onto mine for a beat longer than comfortable.

"Presley, this is Hudson," my father introduced, oblivious to the tension. Hudson reached out, his hand brushing mine as we shook. It was brief, but electric.

I escaped to the kitchen, heart still racing, pretending to be busy with setting the table. But the heat of his presence followed me. I felt him before I heard him.

"Why are you hiding?" His deep voice startled me from behind.

I spun around, almost dropping the silverware. "I'm not hiding," I said, a little too quickly.

Hudson stepped closer, his scent—something woodsy, mixed with a hint of leather—filling the air. "You remember me, don’t you?"

I swallowed hard. "No idea what you’re talking about."

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