DARE: A Rock Star Hero

by Scott, S. L.

  I don’t want to talk about the car, and luckily, he doesn’t want to either. I’m pulled into a soul-searing kiss and melted to the street under his heat. Right when we part for air, he says, “Kick ass on the exam and I’ll see you tomorrow night, babe.”

  I think I’m still running my fingers over my sensually scorched lips when I park in the garage. Dare’s kisses should come with a warning label: devour at own risk. The side effects are long lasting.

  * * *

  The auditorium is quiet, the soft rustle of papers the only sound heard except for the occasional cough or frustrated sigh. Though I struggled to get a good night’s sleep without Dare in my bed, I’m happy to finally be here.

  Principles of conduct.

  Legal ethics.

  Everything is covered, and I feel solid with my answers.

  I walk out knowing I did everything to the best of my skills. It’s now a waiting game for results, and eventually the rest of the bar exam. I walk outside and breathe, just breathe in the sunshine, the relief, and my future.

  Turning my phone back on, I check for messages and find three from Stascia.

  Stascia: Own the exam. You’ve got this.

  Stascia: We have to go out and celebrate. Text me.

  Stascia: How did it go? Are we on for tonight?

  I stop and readjust my bag on my shoulder, then text her back.

  Me: Thank you! It’s over. Thankfully.

  When I reach the parking lot, I’m about to finish typing to send the text, but I’m greeted with long legs, broad shoulders, and a roguish grin that make me stumble or maybe that was my heart shifting back to align with his axis.

  “Hey, Pepper?”

  Dare is leaning against the side of an old beat-up truck with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. Unlike Lloyd, who was thrusting his non-smelling mass-produced roses at me in an apology, Dare stands in contrast with yellow and white daisies tied with a yellow ribbon.

  As if he couldn’t get better after those kisses, and orgasms, he manages to do it. He pushes off the truck and meets me more than halfway when I start walking to him. With the flowers in one hand, he wraps his arm around me and kisses me in a slight dip.

  My eyes close, and I savor every second I have with his lips on mine. Righted and trying to catch my breath, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

  “Came to support my girlfriend.” Thud. I’m dead. Right here on the sidewalk. “How’d it go in there?”

  “In where?”

  “The test you just took inside that building.”

  He makes me lose my mind in the most wonderful of ways, if that’s a thing. I grin, feeling my hot cheeks with my hands. “It went well. But you’re here.”

  “I am,” he chuckles his reply. “I picked these for you. Hope you don’t mind wildflowers.”

  “No.” I take the bouquet, and the ribbon trails over my skin. It’s probably just coming down from the adrenaline of taking the exam that has me feeling extra emotional. “They’re so pretty. It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Stepping back when other test takers start filing down the sidewalk, he shoves his hands in his pockets. He looks back at the truck, and to me again. “I thought. . . You know what? I’m here because I fucking hated not being with you last night. I know I said seven, but how about . . .” He checks the time on his phone. “How about two thirteen instead?”

  It was then that I knew I wasn’t in over my head, but I was falling for this man and didn’t want to be saved. My heart had been circling the depth of my growing feelings like prey, but him showing up just for me, to see me, to be with me, to support me, has changed the course of everything.

  Acting indifferent as if this isn’t the highlight of my life isn’t even an option. I throw my arms around him and embrace him like a cat above water. I pepper his face with kisses, and the best part is he lets me. Dare doesn’t care about propriety or PDA. He holds me by my ass and captures my lips in a red-hot kiss.

  He’s holding me so high that when our lips separate, I’m looking down at him. “What’d you have in mind, hero?”

  An hour later, we’re standing at the edge of a river with rapids to our right and a swimming hole in front of us. “It’s beautiful here,” I say, slipping off the flip-flops I stole from my car before we left the law school parking lot.

  I twisted my hair on top of my head, shed the blouse for a Heroes tee he was wearing, and rolled down the truck windows to let the wind blow through the cab this beautiful May day. I texted Stascia that I’ll need a rain check when we stopped to get gas in some dive stop that had bars on the windows. I stayed in the cab.

  A catcall for my man from another woman at the station got me out of the truck and staking my claim by kissing him right there with a gas pump in hand. I didn’t blame her. Since I stole his shirt, his abs were on full display for everyone to admire, so I get it. I just don’t want to share.

  While he laughed his ass off at my jealousy, I licked his chest for good measure. I didn’t even give a damn.

  In just his underwear, Dare climbs to the edge of the overhang and jumps in without a second thought. The water is so clear that I can see him before he comes up for air. When he surfaces, he asks, “You jumping in from the rock or swinging on that tree rope over there?”

  Glancing at the knotted rope, I don’t even know how that works. “What should I do? I’ve never done either.”

  “Damn, girl.”

  I turn to scan the area. “There could be snakes or wild animals, waiting to attack.”

  He floats in the water so effortlessly. “I’ll protect you.”

  “I’m not sure this is safe? And aren’t we trespassing?”

  “Everything’s owned in this world. Remember how we bent the rules together? Jump in like you did then.”

  “Bent? We full-on broke our own rules.” I eye my skirt hanging on a tree.

  “Then break them again with me. Come on. The water feels amazing.”

  I debate putting it back on, but startle when he says, “Weatherly! Get. In. The. Water.”

  This time, I decide that I should push my boundaries and experience new things. Stepping outside of my comfort zone, I pull the shirt over my head before draping them on a low hanging tree branch.

  Live in the moment, Weatherly.

  “C’mon on, beautiful. Do it. All you have to do is jump.”

  “All I have to do is jump,” I say to myself as I tiptoe through the water on the rocks to where he jumped in. He’s wading in place in the water below watching me, but I can tell he’ll be there in a heartbeat if I slip or worse. I gulp at the thought of falling.

  This time, I’m the one who gets catcalled. It’s so unexpected and takes me out of my reeling brain. Laughter breaks through the fear, and I begin to live in this moment right here. Shaking my ass, I give him a little show in my bra and panties to earn every note of that catcall.

  He calls up to me, “There’s my girl.”

  When I reach the same spot where he was, I stand there staring. “It looks a lot farther from up here.”

  “It’s an illusion. It’s only seven or eight feet, babe.”

  “But you’re a rebel.” There’s a wobble to my knees I’ve never felt before. “I’m scared, Dare.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here. All you have to do is jump away from the rocks and in front of me. You’ll be okay, and then you’ll be a rebel, too.”

  A rebel is something I never thought I’d be, but like so many other aspects of my life, he brings out the best of me. So I suck in a breath and take the plunge.

  My heart races as I fly through the air with my eyes squeezed tight. My body tenses when I hit the cold water and soar under. I’m only under for a few seconds, but in those seconds, I open my eyes and see him under the water with me.

  Freedom. Safe. Secured in his arms, I pop up for air and squeal in delight. “Oh my God, Dare. I did it. I did it.” I look back at the ro
cks and point. “I jumped off that cliff.”

  “You did it. You conquered your fear and went for it.” Anyone else would have corrected from a cliff to a rock but not Dare. His smile is so genuine with pride.

  His hands are still around my ribs as we tread water together. I move closer, wrapping my legs around his middle and my arms around his neck, and kiss him.

  I did conquer my fear and went for it, just as I went for him. And not only that, he came after me. He was the one who couldn’t wait until seven to see me. He was the one who picked flowers himself and surprised me with such a beautiful gesture as wanting to see me sooner. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as valued as I do right now. Valued. My soul vibrates from the relief of completing my exams and with the joy this man instills in me.

  An addictive combination, and one I very much want more of.

  Because I’m brave.

  Because he’s mine.

  Then we kiss again because under the sunshine in the middle of a hidden emerald pool, there’s never been a more perfect moment than this.

  20

  Weatherly

  Dare hardens under me.

  My body is quick to respond—ready, blooming—just for him. Peering around the secret emerald pool, I begin a steady but slow gyrate. “I want you,” I say.

  He looks over my shoulder and then with a sly grin, his eyes shine bringing out the gold of the centers. “Right here? Who’s the rebel now?”

  With him holding me afloat, I dip my head back into the water, close my eyes, and soak in—him, the sun, completing the exam—this perfect day. I lift back up. “It’s a good day to try new things.”

  “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  “No,” I answer honestly.

  We may have only met recently, but I feel like he reads me better than anyone because he says, “I’m going to change that. If I do nothing else for you, one day you’re going to realize how beautiful you are.”

  The water glistens off his lips, and I kiss him, my hold tightening, never wanting to let him go. Leaning his head against mine, he closes his eyes. The man who seems to always have everything under control appears to lose a little. “I . . .” He looks at me. “I don’t want to hide how I feel about you.”

  “Don’t hide,” I whisper, “and I won’t.”

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him nervous. His Adam’s apple dips as he takes a deep breath. “I care about you very much, Weatherly. It’s strange to admit something like that this soon after meeting you, but it’s true. I feel connected to you in a way I’ve never felt before.”

  “Connected as if we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

  “Yeah,” he says with a short nod. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t know what it is that underlies this between us.”

  “Beauty attracts the eye, but the soul captures the heart.”

  I’m released, and he pushes back through the water. With a few feet between us, his eyes narrow, locked on mine as if he’s seeing a ghost. “Why’d you say that?”

  This perfect day crashes around me. “What?”

  “What you just said.” His tone is harsh, demanding. “Why did you say that? How do you know that quote?”

  Flailing my arms in place underwater, my heart is racing, a fear sinking in. “It just . . . when you said there’s something between us it popped in my head.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, Dare.” My arms are tiring, so I start swimming to the side.

  Swimming next to me, he asks, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I reach the side and step carefully on the rocky waterbed, stumbling, but catching myself before I fall.

  “Don’t get out.”

  I shoot a look back at him. “What just happened?”

  He comes to stand near but keeps distance between us. Like his mood, his expression is hard to decipher, so I don’t bother. I’m not in the mood for a guessing game.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never heard anyone else repeat that phrase.”

  “And?” I reach the edge of the trail and tug my clothes from the tree branch.

  “How do you know it?”

  The quote rattles across my lips again as a memory flashes—the fortress wall as I always called it as a kid and the spray paint. “I saw it on a wall.” The shirt falls over my head and down my shoulders, and then I wrangle out of my wet bra. “Why are you angry?”

  “I’m not. I’m . . .” He climbs out of the water and stares up at tall treetops shading us. “That quote means something to me. It’s important. I didn’t expect to hear you say it.” His back is turned to me, and I don’t know if I’m being kept from his emotions, or if he needs a minute.

  I take another plunge and touch his shoulder. “You can talk to me. Anything you say will always stay between us.”

  When I see his eyes again, he says, “I don’t need reassurance. I trust you, Weatherly.”

  “Then what just happened? Why are you upset?”

  The tension eases in his expression. “My mom used to say that quote.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s sacred to me.”

  I find myself gravitating closer to him. “I didn’t say it to disrespect you—”

  “I know. You spoke from the heart like she always did. I was just caught off guard. Anything to do with her . . . I don’t take my memories with her lightly.”

  “It just popped in my head. I haven’t thought of that quote in years.” Then his words replay in my head, so I ask, “What do you mean memories with her? Memories from when you were little? Or—”

  He walks to where he dropped his shoes and jeans. Pulling off his wet underwear, he tugs on his jeans, not caring if the whole world sees. “My mom died.”

  I had started pulling on my skirt but stop. “Dare?”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I bring that up?”

  While he continues getting his shoes on, I zip the flowy skirt on the side and button it at the waist as I tug down my wet panties and slip on my flip-flops. “Because we’re dating. A short time, but still. I want to know you.”

  Dropping his head back, he pinches the bridge of his nose and then settles his gaze back on me. “You do know me.” When he returns to my side, he rubs my hip. “I should have told you sooner, but this isn’t an easy subject for me to talk about. So I wouldn’t just throw it out there.”

  I catch a glimpse of the mom tattoo and date. Running my finger over it gently, I ask, “What is this date?”

  He looks down at it as if he’s seeing an old friend and holds his hand over mine. “That’s the day she left my dad. A new beginning. A fresh start. She escaped so we could live again. That’s our re-birthday. Our survival day.”

  My heart clenches as I listen to the pain morph into hope in the turn of his words. When he lifts his hand, I lean forward and kiss his tattoo. “Your mom sounds like an amazing woman.”

  “She was.” He looks down between us and scratches the back of his neck.

  When he laughs, I ask, “What is it?”

  “Hearing you say that quote . . .” There’s nothing but reverie in his tone. He looks out over the water and then up toward the cloudless blue skies. I’m brought in for a hug. “It means a lot to hear it again. Thank you.”

  The emotions pour from this man, a purported bad boy and a rock star. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t. I just embrace every part of him that fits in my arms and appreciate him the best I can.

  A smile finally settles on his lips. “I’ve never wished that my mom could meet anyone . . .” Shyness lights his eyes. “Until now. Until you, babe.”

  Caressing his face, I hold him in my hands. “I wish I could meet her as well. I’m sorry I can’t. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “She’s a loss to so many, but I still feel the space in my heart, the hole she left behind.”

  “I feel helpless.”

  “This is not your burden, Weather
ly. She told me to live a good life. To be happy. I feel like I’ve been doing both since I met you.”

  Three words keep tickling my tongue, but I clamp my mouth shut, well aware it’s too soon for that declaration. Which makes me laugh since I never said it to my ex at all. I didn’t even have the desire. That kind of says it all about my life before Dare. Maybe the day I met him is my re-birthday as well. “I feel the same about you.”

  We start back for the car, not in the same hurry as when we arrived. “You once told me that your mom would be disappointed you had kissed me, but not properly introduced yourself. I didn’t pick up on that then.”

  “It wasn’t a big statement, just something I said.”

  “Maybe, but she would be proud of you. Kissing aside, you’re an amazing man. Talented and kind. You would make any parent proud.”

  Under a giant oak tree, he stops us and kisses me. “Thank you. I’m not a lawyer or anything.” He taps my nose. “But I like to think she would love hearing me play. She gave me my first guitar.”

  “I know she would.” He catches me batting my eyelashes, but I don’t make apologies. I do love watching him play and hearing him sing, his passion pouring from all the broken pieces he’s put back together.

  We toss our wet undergarments in the bed of the truck and get inside. He starts it to get the air blowing while I fasten my seat belt. As soon as it clicks into place, he reaches over and tugs. “Secure,” he says, speaking to himself. He did this on the way here too. Another way he shows me he cares. I’m spoiled rotten with his affections.

  When he’s settled in, I admire him—his profile, his hair, his kind heart. “Your hair looks good like that.”

  “A mess?” he asks, roughly running his hand over it.

  “Yes. It’s very sexy.”

  I get a wink. “Thanks. You’re sexy. It was almost impossible not to make love to you back there.”