Page 43 of The Love Dare
“Yes.” She laughed outright. He lived to see that sparkle in her eyes. “Whiny bitchis exactly how I’d describe Romeo for most of the play.”
“I don’t know. I kind of like it.” He nodded, playing along just to see the humor enliven her face. “I’m going to borrow thatsometime. Drop a plate of nachos? O, I am fortune’s fool! Get checked after a stupid play? Fortune’s fool! Fail this midterm?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop. You’re not going to fail.”
“Fortune’s fool.”
“If you even try to pull that crap with me, Ty—” He grabbed her by the wrist before she finished whacking him with the paperback. It was the wrong move. An electric current snapped into place between them. Propped as they were on the bed, it would take so little to push her back against his pillow, to hold that wrist above her head as he worked his way down her sternum, to show her exactly how much of a fool he really was.
A fist banged against his door.
“T-man!”
Shit!He turned from Winnie so fast he nearly threw out his neck. Before a second even passed he was halfway across the bed, scrubbing his hand through his hair as if it would do anything to cool the burn of her touch. “Yeah!”
“What are—” The door swung open and Alex glanced quickly between them. “Hey, Win. You prepping my boy for the big test tomorrow? I need him on the ice against Boston this weekend.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’ll play. Don’t worry.”
“I’m holding you to that.” He pointed at her with a meaningful stare, then closed the door behind him.
A blush crept up Winnie’s cheeks as she ruffled through her papers. Tyler watched the rosy flush work its way across her freckles, thinking,Is she worried that Alex might’ve gotten the wrong idea…or that he got exactly the right one?
The moment was broken either way. They didn’t return toRomeo & Julietor to the line for the rest of the study session, but Tyler never could quite let it go. After the win over Boston that weekend, he tripped over one of his drunken teammates and crash-landed in the middle of a beer pong game. Thetable collapsed under his weight as the cups flew into the air. Covered in booze and at the center of the chaos, he just tipped his head back and screamed, “O, I am fortune’s fool!” Everyone stared at him as if he were insane—everyone except Winnie, who stood tucked away in the corner of the room with one of her friends, face turned slyly in his direction, bottom lip pulled between her teeth to hide her smile.
Tyler finishes securing the puzzle piece around Winnie’s throat as the memory fades. He runs the pad of his finger down the side of her neck the same way he did that day on his bed, his body temperature spiking as her breath hitches. When he hits the thin red strap, he doesn’t stop, as he did back in college, when her brother lived next door and the rules were different. He hooks the fabric around his knuckle and runs his finger all the way down to the swell of her breast, then back up, toying, teasing. In his mind, he’s already slipping it over the curve of her shoulder, letting the dress drop to a puddle by her feet. He takes advantage of the shield she always erects, her dark hair hiding him from the world, and turns ever so slightly to the side until his lips brush up against the shell of her ear. At her gulp, he grins.
Then he whispers, so quietly no one else but Winnie and maybe the mics will hear, “O, I am fortune’s fool.”
There’s no humor in his voice.
It’s solemn, sincere.
Winnie looks up at him sharply. The tips of their noses brush. He wills her to read everything he can’t say.
Tomorrow.
I promise, I’ll tell you everything at our one-on-one tomorrow.
The rest of the ceremony passes excruciatingly slowly. He doesn’t care about any of these other women. He doesn’t want to date them. Hell, he didn’t even pick any of them, except forWinnie and the girls he saw her talking to. The producers hand selected the rest for optimal drama. If not for the cue cards in the back, he probably wouldn’t remember any of their names, which makes him feel like a particularly cruel sort of asshole every time one of their faces lights up upon being called. He knows it’s not really about him for most of them. Still, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.
But he will.
He does.
As the last puzzle piece is handed out, he turns to the eleven women who weren’t called and tells them, with the sort of brutal honesty that can only be achieved through reality TV, “I’m sorry, but you’re not my perfect match.” There are brave faces. There are tears. He wants to yell to all of them that he’s no catch. Yes, he has money. Yes, he’s got fame. But those are double-edged swords, and he’s got enough baggage to tilt the odds in the wrong direction. Plus, he’s generally a jerk to everyone he meets. They’re better off without him—Winnie, too. But now that he knows exactly how she feels, he’s just selfish enough to hold on to her with everything he’s got.
After the champagne is handed out, the women surround him, the cameras dial in, and the crew all stare, waiting expectantly for a speech. His mouth goes so dry it feels as though his tongue is coated in glue. He tries something simple to get it over with.
“Thank you, ladies. Cheers to this wonderful adventure.”
But it’s not enough. The producers signal for more. His mind goes utterly blank. They hastily scribble something on a big poster, but he can’t for the life of him read it. The words swim across the page. He sounds like a blithering fool, stuttering and stumbling, just the way his agent feared, which of course only serves to turn the heat up. He catches the subtle glances a few of the women swap, the way some of their smiles falter. He’swell aware of the thought racing through their heads:Yes, he’s an idiot, but he’s rich!He tugs at his collar as the temperature flares.
“Let’s all raise a glass,” Winnie cuts in, her voice crystal clear across the expectant silence. She reads the entire speech, confident and poised, despite the whispers and sly smirks making their way around the group.
“Thank you, Winnie,” Nina cuts in wryly. “But we were actually hoping Tyler would say that, seeing as he is, you know, the suitor.”
“Right, right.” Winnie nods and cuts her gaze to his with a secretive twinkle. “Sorry. My bad.”
