DARE: A Rock Star Hero

by Scott, S. L.

  “Who?”

  “Doesn’t matter. My point is they were asked how it felt to be a one-hit wonder.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Better to hit once than never.” His gaze hits mine. “That just always stuck with me.”

  Thinking about the meaning, I nod. “It’s true.” I still don’t know what a lot of the tattoos mean to him, but I’m enjoying the slow burn of learning about each one in due time. “More to come?”

  “Tattoos and in music.”

  We’ve packed months of adventures into the last week. From hidden swimming holes to late-night shows to kisses in the a.m. and jogs along the river at sunset, we’re building a life together as if we’ve known each other longer. We kiss, the plushness of his full lips embracing mine, keeping me cocooned in our little bubble. This kiss isn’t about the sex to come. It’s about the strings that already connect my heart to his. “I trust you, Dare.” With my heart and happiness.

  His gaze moves up to mine as he lies next to me again. “I trust you, too.” Turning, he brings me closer by a gentle pinch of my chin. “Wholeheartedly.” I’m kissed again, slowly and steady—wholeheartedly.

  I love that we have the big talks between the sheets. Maybe we’re unique in that way, but here, our guards are down and our hearts are open. There’s no judgment by him or me. We can say what we feel and do what we please.

  Freedom.

  Anyway, with his job taking place at night, our nights become our days. So I’ll take him at midnight or two a.m. I’ll take him whenever I can get him.

  He has a lot on his mind by the layer of fog that’s set in his eyes. “How do you pay for things when you don’t have a job?”

  That question might offend some people. April would be. Lloyd would be. As for me, I understand where he’s coming from. “My parents said they’d pay my way through the bar exam. I take that in July, so I have a little time.”

  “And that’s what you’ve been doing? Moving from studying the other exams to the bar?”

  “Yes.”

  He climbs out of bed and starts pacing. Watching him scratch the back of his neck, I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen him awkward. It’s kind of charming with his lopsided twist to his lips and the curve that curiosity carves into his eyebrows. “Your father . . . What’s he like?”

  “Judgmental,” I deadpan.

  Stopping at the window, he moves the curtain to the side as if he’s scoping the area out for security purposes. “That doesn’t help.”

  “I didn’t know you got nervous.”

  “I do when it comes to parents. I haven’t met many over the years, but this is important to you, so I want to make a good impression.”

  I climb out of bed, not feeling the need to wrap the sheet around me or run into the bathroom to grab my robe before his eyes land on my bare body. No, I walk right up to his naked body and lift up to kiss him. His hand stretches across my backside and holds me there as we share another.

  As if I do this all the time, I leisurely glide my hand over his hard abs and our kiss deepens. I never knew how much I craved seduction until my lips met his. He tastes like heaven mixed with an added hint of honey. Delicious.

  An unbridled passion is felt in the way his fingers finagle their way over my skin, making sure he’s touched every part of me. I revel in his hands, the way he looks at me, and how we fit together.

  We fit—body, soul . . . forever?

  Could he be the one for me? Are soul mates a real thing?

  I’m an evidence-based girl, and nothing around me would support this theory. Thirty years ago, both families benefitted from my parents’ match. Do they love each other? Sure. I’ll give them that. Are they soul mates? I don’t think their well runs that deep.

  April . . . who knows what goes on in her head. It’s strange to even think of her right now when we haven’t talked in days. Considering how hard she can be on me, I don’t believe she cares that much about me. I could show her how happy I am with Dare, and she’d insert her negativity. I worry about him coming to the party. He can handle that crowd, but can I?

  There’s no way I’m backing out now. I refuse to give in to them or their opinions anymore. As for April, she’s just a miserable hag. She would never admit that she gloats in other people’s misery. That is a sign of weakness she would rather ignore than amend.

  As for Stascia, her heart is usually in the right place, but sometimes, popularity goes to her head. The only expectation of her growing up was to be pretty, and she has it down. I wish her family could see how funny and clever she can be when given the opportunity.

  Watching my real-life version of the statue of David has my thoughts returning to the future. Dare Marquis makes it so tempting to jump five steps ahead and live wild and free. He asked me to move in with him. Temporarily, but still. I’m thinking he’s just as invested in us as I am.

  I say, “I won’t sugarcoat it because that would be doing you a disservice. There’s no winning my father over. He has to win at all costs, so your best bet is to play into his hand, humor him, and always agree with him. If he gets even a whiff of blood in the water, he’ll attack.”

  “Not helping, Pepper. Not at all.”

  “Play his game, and he’ll leave you intact.” I get a glare for that one, causing me to giggle. “Okay. Okay. For real, just steer clear of him except when I introduce you. I’ll make it short and sweet, and then we’ll get the hell out of there.”

  “The party? Are you coming to the show? We go on late.”

  “No, his office. He’ll be holed up in there reigning from his throne. I’m going to try to make the show.”

  The muscles in his shoulders ease. A little. “Good. How about your friends? We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.”

  “Focus on Stascia. April will get jealous and try to win you over just to get the attention.”

  “She sounds charming.”

  I laugh, but it’s sort of a snort-scoff.

  Dare shakes his head. “You’re really no help.”

  “You only have to be you. I adore you, so they will.” I do adore him, so much. Everyone will compare him to Lloyd, but once they meet him and see how he treats me, there’s no way they won’t love him like I do . . . I freeze to the spot . . . love him like I do . . . Only my eyes move to see him out of the corners. That’s what this feeling is, the one that overwhelms me and has me thinking about him all the time.

  I didn’t feel this with Lloyd. He was like a cousin that was fun sometimes and awful others. That Dare cares so much to be nervous shows how much he cares about me. This is a big event in my honor, and he’s the first one to want to celebrate and support me.

  Where have my friends been?

  My family?

  A few texts here and there and a quick visit are all I’ve gotten. The funny thing is that time has flown, and I haven’t felt like anything was missing. Dare is doing more than all of them combined. His love speaks to me through every one of his actions.

  Suddenly, the phrase love him like I do doesn’t scare me. It comforts me.

  Reassured, Dare gets back in bed, taking me with him. His hands are behind his head, and he lies back on propped up pillows. “One last question.”

  I cuddle right into this tattooed god’s arms. “Hit me.”

  “What do I wear?”

  “Do you have a tie?”

  * * *

  The hiss of the door hinges rubbing together wakes me. When I open my eyes, the room is still dark, but there’s enough light pressing against the curtains to know it’s daytime. Dare closes the door behind him and comes to the side of the bed. “Sorry. I tried to be quiet,” he says.

  “It’s okay. I’ve slept long enough.”

  “I brought you coffee and some donut holes. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

  I rest against the headboard and pick up the cup of coffee from the nightstand. “I love both. Thank you.” I take a sip, and then ask, “What time is it?”


  “You could use the rest, so I let you sleep.”

  A sinking feeling fills my gut, sloshing around with the coffee. “What time is it, Dare?”

  I glance at the clock at the same time he answers, “Just past eleven thirty.”

  “What?” I don’t mean to shout, but panic takes over. I push off the bed and set the cup on the dresser. “How is that possible?” Pointing toward the curtains, I say, “I’ve become a night owl. It’s screwing with my days.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m late.” I run into the bathroom and start the shower. Twisting my hair up, I catch Dare’s reflection as he leans against the doorframe.

  “What are you late for?”

  “I’m supposed to meet my mom and dad for lunch at the house.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yes. It’s a recap, so to speak, of the exams and what’s next.”

  Moving to the tub, he sits on the ledge. When I walk to the shower, his eyes follow the curves of my body. I stand a little straighter and walk a little slower. I open the glass door and step inside, but still hear him ask, “What’s next? After the exam?”

  While I wash my hair, I reply, “A job.”

  “At your father’s firm?”

  Thinking about what I want, I rinse and finger conditioner through my hair quickly. I’ve spent years trying to figure out what I want. I wasn’t brave enough to even consider other possibilities. That’s not who I am anymore. “I’d like to hear his offer.”

  “So you might turn it down?”

  “I don’t know. He may not even give me an offer.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” He opens the fogged-up glass door.

  I lift my head from under the spray to find the kindest smile on his face. He says, “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I wash my body, but I’m tempted to drag him in with me. Screw it. I reach for him.

  “You’re late, remember?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You will later.” He shuts the door. “We have all night, babe.”

  Like always, he’s right. I finish up and turn off the shower. He never leaves the bathroom until I do. Once I’m dressed, I grab my Louis Vuitton and slip on my Tory Burch shoes. My mom likes designer, so I wear her gifts since I know she’ll approve.

  I apply my lipstick and then turn toward Dare who’s sitting on the bench at the foot of my bed.

  “Wow. You look like a movie star.”

  “Is the dress too much?” I look down fanning out the pale pink dress with the black velvet belt.

  “No. You’re just so pretty.”

  I’m so late, but I take a minute to sit on his lap. With my arm around his shoulders, I say, “Thank you. What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

  “Music. Write and play a little.”

  “Are you coming back to my place tonight?”

  Standing, he sets me on my feet, and then takes my hand to lead me to the door. “I’m wherever you are, babe.”

  I’m about to race out the door, but I stop, and go to my junk drawer in the kitchen. Digging through the mess, I find what I’m looking for. I return to my handsome boyfriend and give him a key. “You can stay all day if you want, but if you leave, you know you can return.”

  Holding the key up, he says, “This is a big step.”

  “Look at me, being all brave.”

  A quirked smirk strikes his face. “Look at you, indeed.”

  “I’ll see you later at the show.” I lift up and kiss him. “Wish me luck.”

  “I wish you everything you ever dreamed of, Pepper. Go show them who they’re dealing with.” He kisses me.

  “Break a leg, hero.”

  27

  Weatherly

  The ivy-covered red brick wall, aka the fortress as I called it as a kid, leads to the grand wrought-iron entrance. I click the remote and drive onto the west Austin estate. The expansive property is a rarity in the city limits, but enough money can buy anything. I’m not ungrateful. It’s a beautiful home. I’m just so unsure where I stand with my parents and their expectations these days, so my nerves have kicked in.

  I haven’t heard a peep about breaking up with Lloyd, which speaks volumes. I’m not sure how to break the news to them that we aren’t meant to be, but I’m hoping when I do, they’ll be happy for me because I’m happy.

  I reach the back parking near Gram’s cottage and grab my purse. Before rushing in, even though I’m an hour late, I look around. As an only child, I used to have great adventures here, living in my own make-believe world. I was a pirate one day and a princess the next. It was the only way I could stave off the loneliness.

  When did the magic disappear? I know.

  On my thirteenth birthday, I sat across the desk from my dad who told me exactly how my life would be. Then I was dismissed to attend my party. Today feels eerily similar. Be brave.

  I hurry to the house, cutting across the lawn. Barging into the kitchen, I say hi to the staff but rush down the hall without running. Standing outside his closed doors, I tug on my skirt and then knock.

  “Come in,” my mother calls from the other side of the solid wood doors. I take a deep breath, and on the exhale, I slide the doors open.

  The wood paneling and the tall bookcases that line the wall give an aura of seriousness. The books aren’t classics, but law and research books, and encyclopedias and reference material. There are a few collectors’ editions on the top shelf, but I’ve never been able to reach them. I tried standing on his chair once. I was five feet too short.

  This isn’t a place for laughter and good times. It was designed for business and intimidation. The heaviness of the room makes it dark even in the middle of the day. Leave it to my mother to have the table moved by the window.

  She smiles as if she’s seeing the person she always wanted me to be, but then she glances down and does a once-over. “Burch and Vuitton together? That’s quite a statement, Weatherly.”

  “They’re designers who aren’t lunching with us. They won’t know I mixed and matched.”

  “Matched is a bit of an overstatement.” She scrunches her nose. “Doesn’t matter now, I suppose. We’re glad you could join us since you’re the woman of the hour. ”

  Originally from east Texas, she has a Southern drawl that befits how she sees her role in life—wife, mother, junior leaguer, and perfect hostess.

  My father is twenty years older than she is, and she had me by my age. So sitting here at twenty-three, they both see different paths for me. She wonders about marriage and kids, and he’s worried about my career. It’s never dull when it comes to expectations around here.

  No matter what I do, it will never change the fact that I’m not the mini Bonnie she did her best to mold. Her rules were too confining for my wild spirit as a child. Now they’re too submissive for who I want to be as an adult. I can respect her decision to support the man in her life in any way that helps him succeed, but I prefer a partner where I’m an equal and decisions are made together.

  My grin is tight, but I still remember my manners. “My sincerest apologies for being late. I’ve been studying late into the night.” I greet my father and kiss him on the cheek and then my mother before sitting down.

  They both take their napkins from the table and fan them out before setting it across their laps. When I sit and do the same, he says, “We’re quite proud of your accomplishments. You’re a year older than I was, but that shouldn’t hurt your opportunities.” His compliments usually come with a side of dig.

  He’s a brilliant man—calculated and ambitious—which has served him well in life. He took a small fortune he inherited and multiplied it ten times over by the time he was forty. Now in his late sixties, he’s grown it a hundred times.

  “I’m also two years younger than most of my classmates.” I fail at keeping the snark out of my tone.

  My mom smiles pleasantly as she picks up her fork. “Delightful, dear. The party is going to be beautiful. Have you fo
und a dress?”

  Yes, let’s move on from unsavory topics. Blech. I laugh inwardly at my joke. “Nothing that has wowed me.”

  “It’s too late to have something custom made. Now you’ll be shopping off the rack.”

  I roll my eyes. “It will be okay.” Picking up my fork, I stab a strawberry.

  She goes on . . . “And if it has to be altered, I can put in a call but this is very last minute. You have thighs from your father’s side of the family. Not any dress will work.”

  “I’ll find something. You don’t have to worry. I’m meeting Stascia after lunch to go shopping.”

  “How is she?” she whispers as if the paneling will tell her secrets. “I heard she has no prospects.”

  “Boyfriends, marriage, prospects for what?”

  Ticking off her fingers, she says, “Any. The poor girl doesn’t have a job either. What will happen to her?”

  “She’s twenty-three, Mom.”

  “That’s my point. I was consoling Kathy the other night at bridge. She’s distraught over her daughter.”

  “The dramatics must run high over card games. Stascia is fine. She doesn’t work because she doesn’t have to.”

  My father says, “Neither do you, but look what you’ve accomplished.”

  “You say that like I had a choice.”

  His heavy brows lower as he looks at me. “You didn’t?”

  “Not if I wanted your approval.”

  “My approval was never a factor. You did what you believed you should, and you will reap the rewards for that. You’ll thank me one day for setting you on the right path.”

  He says it like I ever knew there were other options. There’s no use arguing with an attorney. My mother claps her hands once. “We haven’t even eaten the first course. What about April?” my mom asks so genuinely. She loves gossip. “I heard she was considering moving to New York to model but decided to stay in Austin. She’s always been such a pretty girl.”

  All of this is news to me. “I have no idea. We haven’t spoken recently.”

  “Have you fallen out?”

  “Yes, to put it bluntly.”

  “That’s too bad. You’ve been friends since you were little girls. Hopefully, your relationship will be mended by the party this weekend.”