DARE: A Rock Star Hero

by Scott, S. L.

  Me: I’ll text you after the exam. Have fun today.

  We get dressed and though I’m tempted to put on makeup, I don’t. And Dare doesn’t say a word other than, “You look beautiful.”

  I could melt onto the wood floor of my apartment, but I’m hungry, so we leave holding hands. Let me repeat—HOLDING HANDS.

  I’m so choked up by the sweet gesture that I struggle to speak for most of the walk. The girl behind the counter turns around with a coffee cup in her hand. When she sees Dare, her face lights up. “Hi.”

  My hand is abandoned as he shoves his in the front pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” he replies quietly.

  I’d love to say I move to the side to look in the pastry case, but I can’t take my eyes off this awkward exchange. I’m not saying I’m forgotten. I’m not at all. Dare is acutely aware of me standing there, but he seems to be at a loss of what to do. His gaze hits me and then the floor tiles when the other woman says, “I haven’t seen you around in a while.”

  He replies, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

  The light of excitement fades from her eyes when she looks my way. Going into work mode, she asks him, “Breakfast for two?”

  “Yes,” he says, “This is Weatherly.” His eyes meet mine, and he takes my hand again. “This is Kayla.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, my etiquette kicking in despite the growing weirdness.

  Dare references the chalkboard menu. “The pancakes, right?”

  “Blueberry.”

  He leans against the counter casually as he reads the menu. “Two pancake platters. She’ll take blueberry, and I’ll have the buttermilk. A side of crispy bacon. Black coffee.” He glances at me. “How do you like your coffee?”

  She starts coughing, but it sounds like it grew from a scoff. God, I want out of here. “Café mocha, please.”

  He rubs my back and then pulls his wallet out. “I got this.”

  “Thank you.” I turn toward the door. “I’ll be outside.”

  My feet are heavy; the reality of being with a popular musician has caused the lightness of our walk here to evaporate. Dare Marquis is a “ladies’ man” as my mom would call him.

  I pick a table closer to the restaurant against the windows. If I look in, I can see them locked in conversation. Since I left, they no longer keep up pretenses. With a sigh, I turn my attention to the street, watching Austin wake up for a new day.

  Jogger.

  Cyclist.

  Delivery driver.

  A mom and two kids.

  There are plenty of people to watch, but I can’t keep from looking back. Dare pushes through the door and sets a coffee cup in front of me. “Listen, Weatherly.” He takes the chair to my right at the little square table. “I’m going to be upfront with you because that was uncomfortable for you and me.”

  “Who was she?”

  “She’s someone I saw a few times. It didn’t go anywhere—”

  “Clearly, she wanted it to.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Why? She’s pretty. Seems nice.”

  Rubbing his chin, he looks down the street one way and then the other. “Nice enough, but we didn’t have chemistry.” The sun strikes his eyes, the brown bright and clear.

  “Did you sleep together?”

  His hand covers mine. “Not like we have.”

  “We literally slept.”

  “We have time for the other kind.” I twist my wrist around so our fingers can fold together. “This looks bad, and I know it does, but I want you to understand the difference—”

  “Between her and me? I’d like to know as well.” I sip my coffee, liking the comfort of the heat.

  “I can’t erase my past, and I don’t feel shame for it. We didn’t date. We hooked up. I’m not sure if it changes your opinion of me, but I hope it doesn’t.”

  I set the cup down and spin it around. “Does it make it better or easier to swallow the truth if she was the one pursuing you? Because I was the one who came back to Shep’s to see you. What does that make me?”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “But why?”

  “I went home with her because I knew what she wanted from me. A quick fuck. Nothing else. Nothing serious.”

  Is that what he thinks I want? Do I? Did I when I went back to Shep’s on Thursday? I look away from him as I mull this over.

  “Hey.” He touches my chin. “I don’t know what we’re doing or what this is between us, but I like it. There’s a connection I feel with you that I haven’t felt in a long time. I thought about you all week, Weatherly, hoping you’d come back.”

  The door opens, and Kayla is carrying two plates. “I’ll be right back,” she says after she sets them down.

  Hot pancakes are always a great distraction, but I’m losing my appetite sitting here waiting for her to return and leave again so we can continue this conversation.

  She shows up with utensils, syrup, and the plate of bacon. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

  “We’re good,” he replies, not quick to get her to go, but grateful. “Thanks.”

  She dashes in like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

  We’re alone again, so I look at Dare. “It looked like you were arguing inside.”

  “I never made her any promises.” Pouring syrup over the pancakes, he keeps it flowing until it runs over the side of the stack.

  “You make it sound so simple. She’s upset, though, so she didn’t get the no promises thing.”

  “She did. She wants to travel down memory lane, but it’s a dead end.”

  There’s a lump in my throat. “For everyone?”

  “I’m here with you. I won’t disrespect you by engaging in her fantasy to avoid hurting her feelings. If I do, I hurt yours, but I also have no intention of seeing her again, so I won’t pretend.”

  He exhales. “I haven’t seen her in three months or longer.” Sinking the side of his fork into the stack of pancakes, he stops and looks at me. “I’m in a band that plays at least five days a week. It’s easy to find me if you’re looking.” He shoves a bite in his mouth.

  “She wasn’t looking?”

  “She just broke up with some asshole from San Antonio. She’s looking for another hookup. That’s all.”

  I find relief in his words. “So what you’re saying is she’s not heartbroken?”

  “She’s heartbroken. I’m a real catch.” He laughs.

  “Is that why she’s upset?”

  He’s about to take another bite when he leans over our platters and kisses me. The sweetness of the maple syrup and his lips mixing together cause me to stay and savor him a second longer. He leans his forehead against mine when our mouths part, and whispers, “She’s upset because I never had breakfast with her.”

  13

  Dare

  We crashed after the heavy breakfast. Or I did. Squinting my eyes open hours later, I discover Weatherly’s no longer in bed.

  I sit up and look around, but she’s not next to me. I find her in the other room studying at the table. Her head is propped on her hand, and she has her glasses on. It’s an unexpected sight and so quiet that I almost feel like I’m invading a private moment. Much like I did when I saw her in the bathtub. I’ll never forget how incredible it was watching her get off.

  “Do you know how sexy you look in those glasses?”

  Her smile shines before she turns my way. Waggling the temples behind her ears, she asks, “You think?”

  Silly girl. “I know.” Crossing the room, I see an open notebook and a thick book spread out before her next to a stack of various other books.

  “Is that a fantasy of yours? The librarian or hot for the teacher?”

  I rub her shoulders and kiss her head. “It wasn’t before, but it sure the fuck is now.” I come around and sit next to her. “What’s this?” I ask, tapping the stack.

  “Law books.”

  “I thought everything was online at this point.”


  “It is. My eyes get tired staring at a screen, so I like to read both online and on paper. How’d you sleep?”

  “I don’t know what that bed is made of, but it’s like sleeping on a cloud.”

  Laughing, she sits back. “I’m glad you like it. I like it better with you in it.” Closing her book, she stands to stretch her hands toward the ceiling.

  My mom had the biggest heart of anyone I know. Even though her kindness was abused, she never stopped loving or living life. Weatherly reminds me of her in how open, how accepting she is, holding her heart in her hands to be stomped on. But I won’t be that guy. I’m not my father.

  “I like everything about you.” That’s not something I say lightly, but I say what I feel, opening myself up to her . . . to be hurt.

  “I thought for sure I’d find some things about you that would be utterly intolerable.” She comes to sit on my lap. Flipping my hair to the other side, she continues. “Your hair or that unshaven, scratchy face. The way you wear your sleeves rolled up in a way that insinuates cocky bastard.”

  My face sours, but my arms hold her right where she is. “I’m not sure I want to hear more.”

  “Your jeans are ripped, and I can tell that’s not how they were bought. But you know what I thought would really send me running?”

  “My face?” I joke. “You haven’t knocked that yet.”

  “That’s just it. Nothing about you is intolerable at all. You’re quite the opposite. So damn—”

  “Tolerable?”

  “I was going to say sexy.”

  With a nod, I add, “I can handle sexy.” I take her hand and turn it over to kiss her palm before rubbing it with the pad of my thumb. Skin as soft as her amazing bed, but strong when she holds me.

  “You sure can,” she replies, pressing her lips to mine and kissing me. “Thank you for having breakfast with me.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “I told you that I didn’t have breakfast with Kayla, and now you’re thanking me for having it with you? No. Don’t do that. If I’m here or having breakfast with you or anything else, it’s for purely selfish reasons. So you don’t owe me anything, Pepper. You got that? If I’m with you, it’s because I want to be. So let’s not twist this around like you’re the lucky one. You’re not.” I kiss her palm once more. “I am.”

  Her expression softens. “You think you’re the lucky one?”

  “Brains and beauty. The full package.” I set her on her feet. “But you need to study, so I’m going to get out of your hair.”

  “I like you in my hair.”

  I grin, feeling as high as this apartment is in the sky. Standing up, I lift her chin to take in her gorgeous face. “Where’d you go to high school?”

  Her head tilts to the side, her eyes bright from the daylight that floods this place. “Where did that come from?”

  “Curious.” I shrug. Truthfully, I want to know everything about her.

  “I want to know everything about you.”

  Running her hand over my chest, she pats it over my heart. “Catalyst Prep. Where’d you go?”

  “Thompson East. Our worlds couldn’t be more different, but somehow, we collided in this universe.” I kiss her, knowing it might be the only time I get to for the rest of the day. Our tongues mingle, and our hands roam.

  When we get a quick breath, she whispers, “Stellar collision,” and then kisses me.

  “That’s what we are.” Touching her face leads to her shoulders and then lower. I can’t help it. I want her so fucking much. When she rubs against me, I slide my hands under her shirt, my dick aching from being this close. “You turn me on, babe.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  I pull away, our fingers the last to part. “That’s why I need to. You need to study for your exam, and I need to get some stuff done before the show tonight.”

  She follows me to the bar where I dumped my keys and wallet last night when I tried not to wake her. I scoop them up and stuff them in my pockets.

  We hold hands to the door because I’m not as ready to leave as I sounded before. Looking at her—an angel ready to sin—her body, her eyes, her lips draw me to her like no other ever has. How can someone be so addictive? I take a risk and make a move. “Instead of us making a habit of asking when we’ll see each other next, why don’t we just see each other?”

  “See each other around?” she asks. “Or see each other every day?”

  “I’m liking the sound of every day and tonight.”

  There’s that pretty smile. She moves her hair over one shoulder and angles her hips toward me. “Tonight sounds good.”

  “Then it’s a plan. I’ll come over after the show.”

  “I’ll leave your name on the guest list and the door unlocked.”

  Chuckling, I say, “That’s my line.” I wiggle her by the hips. “If you ever want to come to a show, you can. Just tell them your name, and you’ll get in.”

  “I’ll be on your guest list?”

  “Every time.”

  There are no more words. She just moves into my arms, wrapping hers around me, and we stand there in an embrace. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt safe in someone’s arms, but I do in hers and hope she feels the same. I kiss her forehead and back away. Facing her the entire way to the elevator, our eyes stay on each other. She’s definitely someone I want to wake up to for more than two days. “If I don’t go now, I’m not going. Study. Make me proud on that exam, Pepper.”

  “I will.”

  As soon as I turn to punch the button, I hear her say, “Hey, hero?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, laughing.

  “Make me proud on that stage. Okay?”

  I smile. That’s something my mom used to say to me when I went to school. Make me proud, Robert. No one has said that to me in years, and I want it. I want to make her proud.

  “You got it, babe.”

  * * *

  Sweat runs down my neck, trekking beneath my shirt and down my spine. I finish out the song and yank the cord from my guitar. Passing English, I say, “It’s hot as fuck in here.” Fuck it. I set my guitar on the stand and hop off the stage. Cutting across the bar to the back, I signal to the bartender where I’m heading.

  Because the other band canceled at the last minute, we were asked to play two sets tonight. The money isn’t bad, though the crowd is lackluster. I’m glad it’s a flat fee and not based on the cover charge.

  Dirt at my feet. Oaks overhead. There are worse places I’ve played. Standing outside isn’t much cooler, but at least I get an occasional breeze.

  Romeo comes outside, twirling his sticks in his hands, and parks himself on a bench I wouldn’t deem safe to sit on. He doesn’t seem bothered, so I’m not. “It’s hot in there. We get it. We’re all fucking hot, but it’s good money, Dare.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I can’t have a fucking minute to myself?”

  “You can gripe all the fuck you want, but we’ve played this shithole a dozen times, and you got through it. What gives tonight?”

  I lean against the trunk of a tree. “Do you ever get tired of this?”

  “What’s this, Dare?”

  “The struggle and not going anywhere.”

  “Isn’t that why we’re here? To get somewhere. To show the audience who we are, to play our music for a living? Weren’t we recording until three in the morning last night to get somewhere? Since when was playing our music not getting anywhere?”

  Resting my head back, I know what the issue is, and it’s not the Texas heat even though that does fucking suck. It’s Weatherly.

  Thinking about her pristine place, high style in a high-rise I couldn’t afford in my wildest dreams. Even when her hair is a mess, she fits right in there.

  But do I?

  She acts like I’m something special, but she’ll find out soon enough that I’m nothing more than an asshole who can’t take her out like she deserves, like she’s used to. “Fuc
k!” I push off and walk a few feet away. “Why am I being such a pussy over this?”

  Romeo looks confused but is smart enough to let me work it out on my own. Lennox comes outside followed by English, and they’re both drinking beer. After handing us each a bottle, English says, “It’s fuggin’ hot as Hades.” Just when I think I’m used to his accent, he starts drinking, and it gets thicker than ever.

  Lennox drags a chair over and sits. “What’s with the mood?”

  Romeo laughs. “He’s having an argument with himself. Probably best if we leave him to it.” He stands to leave but pats me on the shoulder before he goes inside again. “Good luck. Clearly, you need it.” His laughter fades as he sidles up to a group of pretty girls drinking wine nearby.

  “Very funny.” I call to the group, “Never trust a guy named Romeo.” That gets a fluttering of laughs, the ladies liking the attention.

  English lights up, watching us from a few feet away. He usually isn’t one to get involved in petty shit, but sometimes, he just can’t help himself. He exhales a smoke circle above his head, and asks, “What are you going on about?”

  Lennox snaps, “When Dare’s in a bad mood, we’re the ones who suffer.”

  I glance at Lennox, surprised by his irritation. “You coming to get your digs in?”

  A hard glare hits me, and he narrows his eyes. “We’ve all got problems, man. Some of us are just better at controlling our reactions. I’m not in the mood to cater to your attitude. It’s boiling tonight. So fucking what?” He turns to leave but stops when he gets to the doorway leading back inside. “Remember when it didn’t matter how hot it was? When we weren’t so self-involved that just playing your guitar was enough?”

  When I don’t reply, he looks back at me. “You’ve got to find the drive inside. It’s the only way to survive.”

  I’m not even sure we’re talking about the same thing at this point.