“No. They’ll probably dare me to do something dumb.”
“Like tell a stranger you love them?”
Though the room had only the littlest bit of light, there was no mistaking the glow of her teeth as she smiled and said with little bits of sarcasm, “That wasn’t that dumb. You might not believe me, but they told me to make-out with a stranger, too.”
“No,” I said in a scandalized tone, as if this was shocking information. “And that was another dumb dare, then?”
She slowly shook her head, looking me straight in the eyes, not seeming the least bit shy. This was a woman who possessed confidence, and until I’d met her, I didn’t know just how insanely attractive that was. My dick twitched and I swallowed.
“No, making out wasn’t dumb,” she said in a whisper.
Fuck me. Whispers. Smiles. Steady eye contact.
Tori.
I was a fucking goner.
“I’d have to agree,” I said, leading her out of the room. I needed to get us out of dark corners before things escalated. It wouldn’t do to kiss her senseless in front of my extremely inebriated friend. “It wasn’t dumb. It was probably one of the better things to happen to me all year.”
Tori paused in the hallway, and I turned. She looked unsure, as if I was feeding her a line or something. “Is that a line?” she asked, totally reading my mind.
“I guess it sounds like one.” I shrugged. “But it’s the truth. I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions lately.”
“Played too many games of truth or dare with my friends?” she asked teasingly.
“No,” I said, sobering. “Made promises I didn’t keep. Didn’t take chances, or risks, that I should have.”
“Ah.”
I nodded my head toward Vince’s door. “He calls me Boring Liam Best these days.”
“Your last name is Best?” she asked. After I nodded, she narrowed her eyes, taking me in. “I don’t know, you seem pretty unboring to me. You received my declaration and didn’t make me feel stupid about it.”
“I’ve thought of you ever since you said that,” I told her honestly.
Tori looked suspicious and maybe a little bit flattered. It, like the statement I’d made a minute earlier, were spoken honestly. I’d just met this girl—I didn’t know what would impress her or what wouldn’t. I just know that it’d been a mistake to let her go the first night without getting her number at the very least.
“Are you always this forthright?” she asked.
“It’s safer that way, isn’t it?”
“Is it? Seems like a good way for people to get hurt.”
The conversation had begun innocently enough, but I could tell she was guarded about something. Despite appearing to be a carefree, spontaneous person, Tori was more than just those things. I’d need to be careful with my answers. “I work with risks all day long. It’s hard for that not to bleed over in my everyday life. So, yes, I think it’s safer to know what you’re jumping into before you take that metaphorical leap. Thus, being honest from the jump is the best way forward. You called me forthright, but I believe in being direct.”
She nodded, squeezed my hand. “Okay, that makes sense. And I respect that. You said you work with risks?”
“Technically, I’m a commercial inspector, working as an independent contractor for insurance companies. Really exciting stuff,” I joked.
She whistled and I tried not to be distracted by the shape her lips made in doing so. “Let me guess, when you were five years old you said, ‘When I grow up, I want to determine construction classifications for buildings’?”
“How’d you guess?” I asked. “And that is a pretty accurate description of one of the aspects of my work. Do you work in insurance?”
“God no,” she said and, for the first time, blushed slightly. “No offense. My dad worked as an independent insurance agent for years. So, I know more than I’d like to.”
I laughed. “That’s how I feel most days.”
“So, what’s a guy who assesses risk doing in Vegas?”
“I grew up here.” It was the simplest answer. Part of me felt like I was betraying Will for not saying everything, but Tori and I barely knew one another. “And you’re here for a bachelorette party?”
“Was it the glowing penis necklace that gave it away the night I confessed my love for you?”
“Oh, those aren’t a part of your usual aesthetic?” I asked as we made it to the bank of elevators.
“Maybe sometimes,” she said, giving me a smile that made me feel like leaning in and kissing her again. But being under the yellow lights and surrounded by terrible elevator music dampened the romance a bit.
“So, back to the dares,” I said. “The dare you’re refusing is to marry someone? Seems logical.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “It sounds stupid, but I’m kind of known for my spontaneity.”
I pressed the button for the lobby. “That’s stupid?” I asked, thinking of Will.
“Okay, well, that’s not the stupid part. The stupid part is that all weekend, we played truth or dare because they know that I always do dares. I never turn them down. I’m the girl that people tell stories about—you know, how every group has that friend?”
“I do know,” I said, again thinking of Will.
“Life’s too short, you know? Blah, blah, yeah, it’s a cliché. So, part of me doesn’t want to get fake married to someone just to spite them, since they only did truths all weekend.”
“Still waiting for the stupid part,” I said as the elevator carried us down sixteen floors.
“I'm not really a spiteful person.” She shrugged.
“You said that part of you doesn’t want to get fake married to someone. Which implies part of you does?” My head was starting to spin a little, like I was getting drunk off of her company, like her ambivalence to the dare was convincing me. Was I actually considering this?
“Sure. I guess just to say I did. It wouldn’t be a legal marriage, just the whole exchanging vows part.”
It didn’t sound like the craziest thing to me. If this were an actual marriage, with the legal document binding someone to another, that’d be one thing. But I could stand up in front of an Elvis impersonator and repeat vows, couldn’t I?
“Wait,” she said, interrupting the prolonged silence between us. “Are you asking because you want to?”
“You said you never turn down dares,” I told her. “I’m weighing the risks of having a Las Vegas ceremony without the legal implications complicating it.”
“You are?” Her eyes grew wide. “Of course you are.” She laughed, a sound that I wanted to hear more of. “Okay, how heavy is the risk?”
“Virtually weightless,” I said. “We exchange vows and eventually go our separate ways.” The elevator dinged, letting a couple onto it with us. “At a time of our choosing.” Was it my imagination, or did that seem to settle her? Or was it only because it had settled me? “The only risk is the cost—”
“I’d pay,” she interrupted.
I ignored that part. “We could make a reservation now,” I told her. It made me jittery, as if this was an actual, legal wedding ceremony we were agreeing to and not something to do for fun. For the first time in so long that I couldn’t remember, I was excited about something.
Sure, we might get fake-married and then go our separate ways immediately after ‘I do’. Or, we might exchange numbers and see one another again after this crazy story. Either way, the potential rewards far outweighed the risks.
Tori regarded me for a moment longer when the elevator paused in its descent to allow more people on. We were shoved closer together in the corner and out of instinct, I wrapped an arm protectively around her when someone who had pre-gamed a little too hard bumped into her.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it. Wait a second. You’re not married or otherwise engaged, right?”
“No. It’s safe to assume you aren’t, either?” These were questions we probably should have gotte
n out of the way ahead of time.
“I wouldn’t kiss a stranger in a bar if I were,” she told me, jostling into me when she was bumped by the rowdy man beside her.
“I wasn’t really a stranger though, was I?” I asked. “Since you said you loved me already.”
“Touché.”
The elevator doors slid open, where Tori’s friends were waiting for her.
“You were gone a long time,” said the taller of the trio, a woman who looked like she’d eaten a basket of sour grapes.
“She’s still wearing her clothes, Katy,” said a woman who looked just like her, sounding exasperated. “I think it’s safe to assume they didn’t have time to remove clothing and put it back on before coming down.”
Tori gave me a mischievous grin. “Only one pair of pants was removed,” she said diplomatically.
Ignoring the women’s surprised faces, I asked, “Are we going to do this?”
Without hesitating, Tori nodded, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time.
“I’ll book the reservation. I’m not sure if there’s some kind of dress code, but I’ll go up to my room and grab a sport coat. Should we meet here in about twenty minutes?”
“You’re doing it?” the shortest one said, her voice screechy. “You’re getting married?”
Tori looked the one called Katy directly in the eyes and said, “Yep.” Tori turned to me. “See you in twenty?”
She loosened her grip on my hand but not ready to be parted yet, I tugged her close and dropped a chaste kiss to her lips. One of her hands went to my chest and I wondered if she could feel the thunderous applause of my heart.
I let go and turned toward the elevators, unable to keep the smile that had seemed etched into my cheeks from spreading. I was actually doing the cliché Las Vegas wedding with someone I’d just met. This wasn’t like me. Under normal circumstances, I might have taken Tori’s number and brushed off the dare like the joke it was. But these were not normal circumstances and Tori wasn’t just some other woman I’d met at a bar. She was different.
In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t legal, I reminded myself. But it felt big. And, of course, the one person I wanted to tell was the one person I couldn’t.
9
“Come on,” Katy said for the fourth time. “You know him. You have to know him. There’s no way some random dude would agree to this.”
I combed through my hair, debating if I should pull it up or wear it down. “I don’t,” I said, even though I couldn’t totally call him a stranger either. “You dared me, and I don’t turn down a dare.” My stomach felt empty and nerves caused my hand to shake. Why was I nervous? This wasn’t a real marriage. We didn’t ever have to see each other after this ceremony was over. There were no obligations, legal or personal, committing us to all eternity together.
My phone buzzed, a call from my mom. Guilt poured in me as I hit ignore. Maybe I was using this fake wedding as a distraction. Maybe, in a small way, this was my only way of rebelling against my dad and how blasé he’d treated his own marriage. It was immature—I could admit it. And maybe a little bit over the top, even for me, but I’d be damned if I let Katy hold this over my head. And besides, all it took was one look at Liam to know that this was one of my better ideas.
So, ultimately, it was my pride that committed me to going through with this.
I rubbed a hand over my stomach, catching on the gold sequins on my cocktail dress. It was the only semi-dressy thing I’d brought with me. Sliding on the strappy gold heels, I checked the time. I had four minutes to get back down to the lobby to meet Liam.
There was some excitement in this too. We hadn’t exchanged numbers; he may very well not show up for this wedding. He might decide that the whole thing was a momentary lapse of judgement.
The thought made me break into a sweat, so I swiped a tissue and blotted my forehead, ultimately deciding to put my hair up in a high, sleek pony so it’d be off my neck. We’d been cushioned in air conditioning for the latter half of the day; once we stepped outside in the heat, we were bound to sweat our asses off.
“I’m so excited,” Bekka said, clapping as if she was the one getting married. I mean, technically she was the one getting married in two weeks. Mine was just a facade.
“I can’t believe we’re here for your bachelorette party but she’s the one getting married,” Katy said, acting like she’d been blindsided by this when it had been her idea.
“Is that jealousy I hear?” Lauren asked, tilting her head to the side as she regarded Katy. “He’s kind of a babe,” she told me, taking a bobby pin and securing my flyaways. “Like in an Ian Somerhalder way. Those eyes…”
“I know,” I said, exchanging a look with her in the mirror. Those eyes had completely disarmed me the moment I met him.
“Come on,” Katy said for the fourth time. “You know him.”
“I don’t,” I insisted.
“Yeah,” Lauren said backing me up. “We were there when she told him she loved him. He looked just as shocked as she did to be saying such a thing.” She turned to me. “Time to head downstairs. You look beautiful. Like a golden disco ball.”
“Thanks,” I said, not entirely sure it was a compliment. Bekka cheerily led the way, with me and Lauren following. Katy brought up the rear, several steps behind us—enough that we had to hold the elevator so she could get on, as if she was a cranky child being dragged to a place she didn’t want to go.
The more I thought about it, the happier I was to have agreed to do this because it certainly displeased Katy. Pissing Katy off would end this weekend on a high note.
When the doors opened on the lobby floor, the girls piled out before I did. Katy immediately looked around the lobby, a smile taking over her face. But then Lauren whooped and called out, “Hi Liam!” and Katy’s face fell.
“You didn’t change your mind,” I said as I approached him. He’d changed from his blue long sleeve shirt into a white shirt and a fitted gray dress jacket.
“Wow,” he said, taking me in.
I was never shy. But the way he looked at me in the party dress that would also serve as my wedding dress, I felt shy.
“You look handsome.” I put my hands on his shoulders and brushed invisible dust off of them. “Very nice.”
“Wow,” he repeated.
“Yeah,” Lauren said, coming up to us and putting her arms over our shoulders like she knew Liam just as well as she knew me. “You’re a lucky bastard.”
“Don’t I know it.” He smiled at Lauren before turning that devastatingly handsome smile my direction. I could not let my knees quake when he looked at me like that. I must remain stable, assured. “Are you ready to do this?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, and he led us out to a waiting cab.
The chapel he’d chosen was busy, so busy that I was surprised he’d managed to squeeze a reservation in. When I asked him, he told me that someone had canceled—gotten cold feet—giving us a small window of which to squeeze in our ceremony.
“It’s a quick ceremony,” he explained as we waited at the desk. “They’ll take photos that we can buy if we want and then we’re done.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter, taking in the photos of all the famous people who’d gotten married at this chapel in years past. It was so surreal knowing that in about fifteen minutes, we would be exchanging vows where celebrities had decades earlier.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Liam ripped a strip of paper from the phone book on the counter and began to fold it intricately. He looked so intent on his task that I couldn’t help but stare as he folded the paper, unfolded it and made new folds. He picked up a pen from the counter and pushed the flat end of it into a pocket he’d created. I had no idea what he was doing until he held his hand out and gestured for mine in return.
Eyeing him, I watched as he placed the folded-up paper on my ring finger. He flipped so that my palm was up and then he attached the ring,
gently inserting one strip inside of another before turning my hand back over. The pocket he’d pressed with his pen resembled a diamond. He’d made me a paper ring.
I stared at it, marveling over the small gesture that suddenly felt very, very big. And romantic. I was not used to romance.
“Are you nervous?” he asked when I’d said nothing.
“Oh, are you nervous?” Lauren echoed, butting in on a moment that felt private and sacred though this situation was neither of those things.
“No, I’m not,” I said automatically as my stomach dipped. Was I nervous? I didn’t get nervous. This wasn’t real. There was nothing to be nervous about. But I stared down at that paper symbol of traditional commitment and felt sweat break out at the nape of my neck. “I’m not nervous,” I said again, as if I could convince myself.
With a slight smile toward Lauren, Liam wrapped his arm around my shoulders and steered me away from her, Bekka, and Katy. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, his lips at my ear. It sent a shiver down my spine. “We can walk away right now.”
I turned so that I could look him right in the eyes. “I’m nervous,” I told him in a moment of pure honesty.
“Okay.” His eyes softened, and he dipped his head so that our foreheads touched. “Want to peace the hell out of here and go get some burgers? Laugh this off?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not nervous because I don’t want to do this,” I said. “I’m nervous because I do. And I know it’s fake.” I flicked a glance at the ring on my hand. “But I want to do this.” Because it was him. And somehow, I felt more comfortable with this stranger than with the three women I’d spend the last several days with.
“I want to, too.” I don’t know why that surprised me so much. After all, he’d agreed to do this. But hearing him admit to it without the pressures of any outside forces—ahem, Katy—settled me for the first time since we’d arrived at this little venue.
“Who’s the bride and groom?” a tired-looking woman asked as she exited double doors.
“It’s us,” I said, my stomach full of flutters.
One Little Dare Page 7
