Page 39 of The Summer Dare
“Hmmm…” she draws out as a group of locals my age approach the fire to hang out with us.
“Hmmm, what?” I probe.
“Raven and Sloane seem to think there’s something going on between you.”
“And you believe them?”
She suddenly growls, “Gahh… when are you gonna stop treating me with kid gloves, Lanie? I’ve watched your face light up all weekend when you’d receive a text and thought I wouldn’t notice. I’m not an idiot. You like someone… is it this Ryan guy or someone else?”
“What makes you so sure it’s a guy?”
Raising her voice as her frustration with me grows. she shrugs. “Hell, if it’s a girl, I’m happy for you. Because the point is… I… want… you… happy.”
“Well, thank you,” I huff in exasperation. “But for the record… I’m into guys.”
“Any guys? Or one in particular?” My sister raises a brow in challenge.
“I don’t see that’s any of your business.”
“Okay… I didn’t think it would come to this, but I’m pulling out my summer dare.”
Shit. As a kid, we made a pact.
We each decided we would either tell the truth, no exceptions—or accept the dare—no matter the stakes if we weren’t ready to divulge the information demanded. Part ofthe pact is that we only get to use it on each other once each summer so we needed to make it count.
Squaring my shoulders, I put on my poker face. The one that’s well perfected that I learned from Nana when I want the girls to see I show no fear. Nodding once in her direction, I agree, “Okay, what are the stakes?”
Licking her lower lip, she looks into the fire for a few moments. Thankfully, there’s no one within earshot of whatever it is she’s about to lay down.
Giving me an out, she asks, “You sure you just don’t wanna tell me what’s going on with Ryan?”
I can’t tell you—because I don’t know myself, is what I want to yell, but instead, I repeat my words, showing no weakness. “What are the stakes?”
“You’re either gonna tell me what’s going on with Ryan…” she draws out for effect. “Or you’re gonna walk up and kiss the next single guy our age that walks up to the fire.”
Is she freaking kidding me? At least she made the stipulation of being single and our age—or that would be gross.
As if the pressure wasn’t already on, I spot movement coming down the path, though I can’t tell who it is.
“You gonna tell me, or do I need to loan you my Chapstick?” the monster beside me taunts. My little sprout has grown into a fine manipulator. She knows how to run a fine bargain. And she knows I won’t kiss a total stranger.
But what the fuck am I gonna do?
The moment the person walking up the path reveals himself; my body knows the answer before words can kick in.
I stomp right up and within seconds I’m reaching for his face, pulling his lips onto mine.
The momentI make it out of the path and onto the beach, I see her stomping in my direction. She doesn’t smile or greet me the way she usually does. In fact, she almost looks pissed.
What the hell did I do?
Without stopping—like a normal person would, in one fluid movement she marches right into my personal space, lifts up on her toes, and reaches for my face. Her eyes are heated and her voice coarse as she demands, “Kiss me.”
Yeah, I don’t need to be told twice.
Much to my dismay, we’ve been sneaking around her sisters all week. She’d been afraid of her sisters getting the wrong impression.
Apparently, she no longer has any fucks to give.
