“You’re my personal professional snuggler?” Shit-eating grin on his face. “Brilliant, B.”
I polish my nails on my shirt. “Why, thank you.” I tip my head at the grand piano. “Ready, big guy?”
He nods and helps me off the bar stool.
“I’m sorry the playlist didn’t work for you.” We’ve tried different kinds of music to test if that would help with his nightmares and the restlessness that burns through him.
Nothing is working except for him watching me play the piano. We even tried a video of me playing, but that didn’t help. Same with FaceTime. He prefers up close and personal.
I sit in front of the piano. Dare takes a spot on the winding staircase. I love his posh two-story house with the soaring ceilings, large picture windows, and hardwood floors in this rich mahogany.
“Preference?” I ask.
“Nothing Else Matters.”
Metallica. Nice.
Sitting tall, I close my eyes, move my fingers on the keys, and hum. I play his preferred track, then go on to the next one, another favorite of Dare’s.
“My Immortal” by Evanescence.
After that is “Someone Like You” by Adele.
As I fade out of the track, I open my eyes. Dare is watching me with his palm flat on the piano’s gleaming surface. See. Touch. Feel. That’s how it is with Dare when he needs to calm the guilt and restlessness swirling inside him.
We’ve done this for two years, and this year has been the worst. Is it because he finally realizes Gwen might not stick around Dumas after graduation? Gwen’s spoken often of getting away from the stigma of her older brothers’ legacy of being criminals.
“Better?”
He sighs. Nods. “You staying the night?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice, B.”
He looks away, too proud to ask me to stay, though he never has a problem asking for anything else, including my time.
“I’d never abandon you, Dare.”
He gives me a sheepish grin, knowing full well I understand him in a way no one else does, including Midnight, and vice versa.
We’re friends for a reason. We know what it’s like to have lived through darker times. We don’t speak of the past, but we drop hints, having this need to tell but not give up everything. No one should bare their soul completely to someone, even someone they care about and who cares for them.
There’s still the risk of rejection, of not being accepted. Worst of all, there is the risk of being judged as a terrible person.
When we share, I hint at my life with Hunter partying and drinking. There were times I drank so much, I blacked out. The fighting and the accusations. He blamed me for encouraging a guy’s advances.
Said I was too friendly. Then there were the times he said I was too boring and I should live a little. How about we go steal a car and take it for a spin? Or have me film him beating someone up? I refused to do either. Instead, I used my body to keep Hunter out of trouble. I am so glad those days are behind me.
Life with Dare is an adventure, but at least it doesn’t involve crime and sex. We spend our time laughing and talking. Dare tells me what in a girl makes him feel alive.
She would be someone who has him laughing with her off-the-wall jokes. Who helps him forget life can be a shitty mess with her business ideas for bringing joy to people through scents and little gifts. Who has him anticipating what the next day will bring. Hopefully, more of her company. It’s interesting that the girl who would make him happiest describes Gwen Bliss to a T.
“Tomorrow, I’ll look up where the away games are and book us rooms that have a piano. If not, I’ll have one brought in.”
The lengths he goes to to get his therapy. I’m surprised he didn’t try to convince me to go with him to Cambridge.
I rise from the bench, walk over, and pull him in for a hug. “You might not want to hear it, but eventually, you need to speak with Gwen.”
“Last time I attempted, she ran the other direction. Fucking ran, B.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You talk to her for me.”
“Uh-uh. This is between you and her. I will not lose either of you by choosing sides.”
“Syn.”
“You can’t persuade me, Dare. Now go shower. You stink.” I push him in the direction of the bathroom, pull out my cell, and check the time.
I have an hour before I have to FaceTime Taron. After I shower and change into my pajamas, I do some reading on my phone. Dare pokes his head inside the bedroom.
“Ready to snuggle?”
He gives me a shit-eating grin.
“You wish.”
We have never overstepped our friend zone, and I don’t plan on crossing that line. Dare has personal baggage I’m not sure I can handle and still stay sane.
“Night, Syn. Thanks again.”
“Good night, Dare.” I wave to him, then switch from reading to finding Taron’s number in my contacts.
I FaceTime him. He answers right away. I smile, then put on my best nonchalant expression. There will be no encouraging him. Or letting him think all he has to do is get angry and I’ll come to heel, giving in and giving up another ring.
“Make this quick, Taron. I have an early morning.”
“You making me breakfast?” Crooked grin and the butterflies in my stomach are fluttering a mile a minute.
Why does he have to look so goddamn gorgeous with those dimples of his and the gleam in his pool of ink eyes?
“In your dreams, buddy.”
“Has already happened, among other things.” His grin widens.
“Taron.” I blow at strands of hair falling in my eye.
“One listen.” The smile leaves his face. “Me and Lily coming out of the bathroom isn’t what you think happened.”
“I couldn’t care less what you do with other girls.”
“Syn, some dude stuck his hand up her dress and felt her up. She was stunned, embarrassed, violated. She wanted somewhere private to talk.”
“Oh, God, is she okay?”
“She is. I drove her home. She was shook up.”
I bet she was.
“I’m glad you were there for her, Taron.”
“Any guy would’ve done what I did.”
“Um, excuse me, but it was a guy who molested her. A different guy could do the same or worse. You’re a good guy.”
He looks away. I’ve embarrassed him.
“She transferred in last year,” he mutters. “Doesn’t have a lot of friends. She was hoping I’d be at the party.”
“So you and she aren’t together?”
Why am I asking? He arrived on campus a month after I saw him at Bayside. Could a guy seriously move that fast? Except I wouldn’t put it past Taron to be the exception. He is gorgeous. A charmer. Has an edge to him with his quick temper. There are girls who find edgy sexy. I am one of them.
“Never met her until sex ed class. I don’t want to gloss over what happened to Lily—and if it happens to you, I’ll fuck up the guy within an inch of his life—but when can I swing by and give you back the ring?”
His concern for Lily melts my heart, while him pounding at his chest in my defense, if need be, slicks my panties. How did I go from feeling nothing with the guys I’ve hooked up with to this heat that engulfs my body from head to toe at something as innocent as Taron coming to my defense?
This is not normal.
Or I’m not normal.
But how I reacted to my mom’s death and the truth of who my fathers are isn’t normal either. I return my head to the conversation.
“Tomorrow in class.”
“Or I can stop by now.”
“You don’t have my address.”
“You can give it to me.”
His voice is gravelly, drawing my attention to his mouth. Taron has such a nice mouth. Kissable. Delectable. I would suck his bottom lip into my mouth. Nip on their fullness. Gauge their softness with the t
ip of my tongue.
“Syn?”
“Oh, I’m, um, I’m not home.”
“Dare?” His jaw clenches. His eyes narrow.
“Yes.”
“You stay the night often?”
“As often as he wants me to.”
“Text me your e-mail.”
“What for?”
“The JD.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do you want the position or not?”
“Will this JD match the one from Stanford?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Hank. Is he single?”
“You interested?”
“Just find out for me.”
“Syn.”
“Find out for me and I’ll give you my e-mail address. Tomorrow after practice.”
“That’s extortion.”
“I learn from the best.”
“Dare?”
“He’s good, but there’s another who gives him a run for his money.”
“What kind of company you keeping, Syn?”
“The kind that has my back and I have theirs.”
“I’d like to be a part of this crew.”
“We’re not taking new members.”
“What if I’m your guy?”
“Sorry, champ, but an odd number would disrupt our flow and three’s a crowd.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I’m happy with what I have. Let’s stick with the plan. I keep you in line and keep the disgruntled players from going for your throat.”
“I can take care of my own shit, Pixie Dust.”
“Then why hire me as your PA?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“Sorry, babe, but the explanation happens to be confidential.”
Ah, so there’s more to this than cooling Taron’s temper and getting his teammates to play nice with him.
“Does the explanation have something to do with a tat of a snake and a butterfly?”
His eyes widen before he schools his expression. “I’m pleading the fifth.”
“No worries. I have all I need.”
“Syn, don’t you dare take this where I think you’re taking it.”
“I won’t stand by and let someone on the team get away with assault.”
“If he’s on the team. I was at the same party she was, and the thing is, Andy and Jordan know guys from all over, including the neighboring towns. It could be any guy, Syn.”
“That was nice what you did for her.”
“What do you mean?”
He’s not looking at me, and that’s how I know he understands exactly what I mean.
“The PA job is twofold. One, I’m there to help you settle your temper and be a buffer between you and your teammates. Two, you knew her working with the team would be uncomfortable with as fuzzy as her memory is of that night. So, you talked to Hank and Hank talked to Cindy.”
He whistles. “You’re too damn smart for your own good, Pixie Dust. Now, leave the nose-butting to me.”
“Uh-uh. I have a stake in this too. The guy has a snake and butterfly tattoo. What if it’s the same tat as what my friends and I have?”
“Whatcha gonna do, hang out in the locker room and watch us guys undress?”
“Sure.”
“You will do no such thing,” he growls. “Think about it, Syn. If a guy is in a hurry to get off, do you think he would take off his clothes? No, babe. He would pull down his pants just enough to do the deed. Your friend Midnight was at the party, proudly flaunting the ink on his arms. Maybe that was the last thing the girl saw before she was drugged and taken up to my room.”
“You, she—”
“I found her in my room the next morning.”
“Taron, you’re tall with dark hair.”
“Syn, are you—”
“You would never hurt a girl, Taron. I’m just worried for you.”
“Don’t be, Pixie Dust. I was downstairs playing Fortnite with my roommates after the party settled down.”
“And during the party?”
“Why you so worried?”
Because I care. “Because I don’t want there to be any question that you were anywhere near her.”
“I wasn’t. I was with someone else.”
“A girl.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Didn’t get her name. But no worries. We talked, that’s all, okay?”
“Hey, who you talk to or spend time with is none of my business.”
“It’s not what I’m seeing and hearing from you, Pixie Dust.”
I heave a sigh, still not happy with his answer. “What did she look like?”
“Your height. Long dark hair. Quirky. Talked a lot about her family’s lavender farm and how she and her friends pay homage to Sasquatch annually with this huge party. The girls call themselves the Sass Squad.”
I cover my laughter with my hand. “Oh my gosh, Taron. You were with Gwen Bliss. She’s one of my best friends. Is your roommate by chance Jordan Halpin?”
“Yeah, why?”
“That’s Gwen’s best guy friend.”
“You have nice friends, Syn.”
They are good people. I am so lucky to have them in my life.
“Syn, let’s work together on finding the guy. Don’t do this alone, Pixie Dust. The guy is dangerous.”
“My friends have connections. Involve them too.”
“As long as I’m a part of your crew, they are in.”
“You don’t fool me, big guy. It’s them who have to accept you and not the other way around.”
“And if I’m your guy? Will that ease my way into your crowd?”
“That’s up to Dare. He gets the last word.”
“You have no say?”
This is where the other shoe drops. “Taron, I gave all three rings to him when I was nineteen.” But Dare isn’t the one I gave Taron’s rings away to. Where is Hunter now? He would be twenty-three, Dare’s age.
There is deafening silence followed by Taron disappearing from sight, then something crashing into the wall. Sounded like glass breaking. Will he ever learn to control his temper?
“What was his ask? Wait, I don’t want to know. Forget the crew shit. If you can’t decide that I’m your guy, then I don’t want in. The choice is yours to make, Syn. You shouldn’t accept anything less.”
Why is he so arrogant?
“He’s not less. Dare is my best friend. He was there when you weren’t. Talked sense into me when I needed someone to speak the harsh truth. It’s the reason I gave him the rings. He knows what’s best for me.”
“That’s a cop out and a bunch of bull crap. Get back to me when you’re done being dependent on a man for your worth, Syn.”
“You’re being an ass.”
“I speak the harsh truth and I’m an ass, but when he does, he gets your rings and your loyalty?”
“Yes. It’s how me and the rings work. You know that. You’re the one who gave them to me. You’re the one who set the boundaries and the rules. You, Taron. So don’t be pissed at me when I followed your rules.”
He disappears from the screen, and there’s grousing and muttering. Finally, he returns, his handsome face taking up my screen.
“What’s B stand for?”
There’s movement. The phone shakes. I get a view of him stripping off his shirt. The shirt is tossed onto the floor. My mood goes from annoyed to fangirling on the hot-as-sin QB with the charming smile and hot temper. He is the devil and the angel, and he wants to be mine.
I stare at his bare chest. My, he is solid. I ogle his muscles, the patch of dark hair on his chest, and the sinful strip that disappears down the waistband of his low-hung blue jeans.
I lick my lips and am ready to tell him to take it all off, please. Thank goodness he gets back on the bed, taking the phone with him. His face fills the screen again, robbing me of a full view of his panty-melting body.
“If I tell, you leave it at my word and don’t ask questions, okay?” I haven’t shared this part of myself with Taron ever.
“I’m good with that.”
He’s not. I can see it on his face.
“B is for Beethoven.”
“Huh. That’s cool.”
And just like that, we’re back to this weird calm, as though we didn’t just argue.
“Thanks for listening, Syn. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Taron.”
We end the chat. My phone pings. A text message.
Taron: U r the only girl for me, Pixie Dust. Always.
A fluttering starts in my chest. I clasp my cell phone to me and fall asleep with a smile on my face.
13
Taron
In class the next day, I make clear my intentions toward Syn. As soon as she takes her seat, I rise from mine, tell the douchebag next to her to scram, and sitting, I stretch my arm across her small shoulders.
“Get much sleep last night, Syn?” I ask in a loud voice.
“Not with Dare’s snoring shaking the walls.”
Damn, what a comeback. Smiling and with my arm still stretched across her shoulders, I reach inside my pocket and hand her the ring, my greedy eyes taking her in. She is smoking hot in this shirt that is white on the top half and pink on the bottom half, and a pair of tight blue jeans shredded at the knees. The hint of skin is mouthwatering.
“Remember, I will not give up the rings every time you lose your shit.” She slips on the braided gold band, then sips her coffee.
“Are you demanding I behave?”
“I’m asking.”
“Didn’t sound like it to me.”
“Taron, will you please keep your temper in check?”
“That’s better,” I say near her ear.
Not only does she look good, Syn smells good too, a boner-inducing mix of her body heat and the sweet scent of flowers. I rein in the urge to rub my nose in her hair and up against her skin and inhale until my behavior borders on insanely inappropriate, going beyond common decency. I lingered for far too long. She pokes her sharp elbow into my side. I grunt.
“What was that for?”
“You’re misbehaving.”
Damn right. Slouching in my seat, I chew on the tip of my pen and slide her a sideways checking out. She brings her coffee to her mouth and sips. I catch a whiff of caramel. Smiling, I shake my head. Syn and her love of everything caramel.
Give You Up (Dumas University Book 1) Page 7
