I Dare You

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Excitement steals my breath at the thought of seeing him for real, but are we really going to hook up? I swallow. How will I know it’s you?

  I’ll be the only badass athlete waiting for you in the bathroom.

  My hands are trembling as I tuck my phone back in my clutch and look at Skye. “Shit. He’s here and we’re going to meet in the bathroom.”

  Skye claps, giddy for me. “You’re going to have sex,” she sings.

  “It doesn’t mean that,” I say, trying to shush her as we approach the door to the house, but I have to admit the exhilaration is making my steps light as we make our way inside.

  I get to see He-Man!

  The room is packed with groups of people talking and drinking or making out in corners. Loud music blares from the sound system, and I estimate the drunk factor is already at a five on a scale of one to ten.

  Tyler calls out from the hallway where he’s chatting with some other baseball players, his hand waving at us to come over. Skye gives me a questioning look. “Want to come with?”

  I shake my head. “You go on. I’ll find the bar.”

  She heads off toward Tyler, and I watch as she jumps at him. He catches her in his arms and lays one on her.

  Bobby Gene calls out my name, and I look up to see him standing upstairs. He’s looking handsome with a ball cap on and his arm tossed around the redhead from dance class. “Delaney!” He tips his beer at me.

  I tilt my head toward his beer. “I need one of those—stat.”

  Someone jostles into me from behind, and I turn to see Maverick. He runs his eyes over me, lingering on the cutouts on my chest.

  Goose bumps pop up on my skin. I’m hyperaware of every single nerve ending in my body when he’s near.

  “So are you always bumping into people or is that just me?” he says.

  “You bumped into me,” I retort with a grin. “It’s like you were waiting for me.”

  Was he?

  He shrugs, those broad shoulders shifting with an animalistic grace. He’s wearing a fitted orange and blue Wildcats shirt that hugs his chest, the sleeves tight around his hard biceps.

  I get distracted when my eyes go past him and I see Alex with Martha-Muffin trailing along behind him. He looks annoyed, and her eyes are red as if she’s been crying. I study them more intently, taking in the sad expression she wears as she stares longingly at Alex. I don’t really want to know what’s going on between them, but it’s apparent she really likes him.

  I inch in closer to Maverick, needing to get away from them. “Why don’t you show me the bar in this place? Isn’t it in the back room?”

  As if reading my mind, he tosses a glance over his shoulder and sees Alex. He looks back and gives me a nod. “Done.”

  Maverick

  We’re sitting on a couch in the back room. People come and go past us, mostly on their way outside where the fire pit is, yet it feels like we’re alone. She’s all I can see right now, and I’ve been counting down the days until I can go to a damn salsa lesson with her again. Fuck me, I want Delaney Shaw.

  I never imagined I’d be this…intense about wanting a girl, but here I am. Something about her has me worked up, has me wanting everything I never thought I did.

  She smiles at me, her ruby lips curving. “So, let’s go back to freshman year—why exactly did you kiss me?”

  “Because of the legend. The first person you kiss at your first bonfire at Waylon is the one you’ll never forget.”

  She leans into me. “But you did forget about me. You went home with twins.”

  “Whom I barely remember.” I exhale, thinking back to how I was at eighteen. “The truth is, I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Plus, the accident had just happened a few months before. My head wasn’t in the right place.”

  “And it is now?”

  “I’m not perfect, but I know what I want.” My eyes go heavy as I run my gaze over her, taking in the way her breasts push against the fabric of her dress. “You’re the one that got away, Delaney, the opportunity I missed.”

  My hand goes to her back and strums across the bare skin of her shoulder. Her skin feels like silk, soft and velvety.

  “And you think you can just sweet-talk me into giving another football player a chance?”

  I grin. “Yes.”

  A little laugh comes from her. “Sometimes I’d like to just slap you.”

  I smirk. “That means I have an effect on you.”

  “You drive me crazy,” she murmurs, her eyes going low.

  Our faces are closer now, and her scent washes over me, light and fresh, like lemons.

  I touch her face, tracing the line of her jaw.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice whisper soft.

  “I’m going to prove that this heat between us…it’s got to be dealt with,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t sit by you in class one more day without doing something about it.”

  Just before I’m about to press my mouth to hers, someone barks out my name.

  Delaney

  He’s going to kiss me…until he doesn’t, his head turning sharply at the sound of his name.

  Anger clouds his face, and I look over to see Alex and Ryker and several other football players striding toward us. Suddenly the room seems full of people swiveling their heads in our direction. Maverick stands, and I do the same. Martha-Muffin is here too, huddled in the corner with some of her sorority sisters, her eyes darting from me to Alex.

  I stiffen my shoulders and tilt my chin up as he stops in front of us, his eyes bouncing from me to Maverick. Ryker trails behind him, a worried expression on his face as he looks at Maverick.

  “Everything okay here?” Alex says, his chest rising rapidly. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

  Maverick towers over Alex, his body coiled like a snake, his face tight. “She’s fine. Why are you asking?”

  “One of the freshmen said you were getting cozy with Delaney,” he snaps. “That isn’t cool—not at all.”

  Maverick scowls and takes several steps away from me, forcing Alex to move backward. In a matter of seconds, the space between us has been filled by other players surrounding them, waiting to see what’s going to happen.

  “You aren’t dating her. What’s the problem?” Maverick bites out.

  “The problem is I know you aren’t Delaney’s style, and I wanted to check on her. Besides, it’s a shitty guy that hits on a teammate’s ex.”

  I’ve pushed my way through the throng of people and I see Alex crossing his arms. His face is red with anger.

  Shit. This is escalating fast.

  Maverick inhales a deep breath, his fists clenching. “That’s up to her. She can make up her own mind.”

  Ryker steps in between them, his voice low. “Hey, hey, look, this is just a little misunderstanding. No one is angry here. Everything is cool.”

  Some of the other players grumble out an agreement, but neither guy seems to be listening.

  Maverick’s eyes have narrowed in on Alex. “There’s no misunderstanding. I was sitting with Delaney. Everything was fine until he showed up.”

  Alex puffs up his chest. “She still cares about me, and you’re just getting in the way.”

  Maverick bristles and leans his face into Alex’s. His index finger pushes at Alex’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. If a fight is about to happen, it’s clear who would win. “Stay out of my way, kicker, or you’ll regret it.”

  Alex pales and is fumbling for a response when Maverick spins on his heel and stalks out the back door into the yard. I exhale, watching him go.

  I should let him cool off.

  But I don’t. I head out the door, chasing him to the back gate that connects to the front drive.

  “Maverick! Wait.”

  He halts and flips around to face me, his jawline taut with repressed anger. There’s about ten feet between us, but I can read him like a book. He’s coiled like a tiger, ready to spring.<
br />
  His gaze brushes over me, and I think I see a flash of regret flicker across his face.

  “Delaney…go back inside.”

  I lift my hands up. “Why? Where are you going?”

  He exhales slowly as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “I just need to cool off, okay?” His eyes flick back to the house. “I can’t go back in there. I’m on the verge of kicking Alex’s ass, and I can’t do that.”

  Oh.

  I get it—he wants to flirt with me, but I’m not quite important enough to go against his teammates for.

  Fine. Football is king, and nothing else matters.

  Disappointment hits me. “So you’re just giving up?”

  His lips flatten and he doesn’t meet my gaze. “Later,” he says, and then he’s walking away from me.

  I stalk back into the house, my hands clenched, disappointment churning. Part of me is…hurt. Just when I’d been softening to the idea of a football player, he goes and blows me off.

  It’s been almost an hour, so I decide to go upstairs and meet He-Man. Careful to avoid Alex, I head upstairs to the hallway to wait outside the bathroom while a myriad of people come and go.

  I’m anxious to see He-Man, but when he’s fifteen minutes late, I’m starting to look like a bathroom stalker. I pull out my phone.

  I’m here and you’re not. Are you standing me up?

  No reply.

  You suck, I send, typing the words.

  I can’t make it, he replies. Sorry. Something came up.

  My stomach drops as I suck in a breath. Why is everyone letting me down?

  Feeling more devastated than I should about a guy I’ve just been texting with, I shove my phone back into my clutch.

  Alex is a cheating dick, Maverick ditched me, and now He-Man is a no-show.

  All men are jerks.

  Maverick

  “I’m sorry I had to call you to come get him,” Mick says as I march up to the counter of a local bar, aptly named Mick’s. It’s a rather seedy, dusty place that plays old country songs, and it’s my father’s favorite, even though he’s been kicked out of it at least half a dozen times that I know of.

  My hands clench. I didn’t see Mick’s voicemails until two hours after he left them because of football practice.

  “What happened?” I ask, looking around and assessing, not seeing Dad or Raven. It’s a Monday evening and the place is dotted with a few worn faces.

  His head nods to a back booth and my eyes follow, landing on my father. “He’s been here drinking since six. He fell pretty hard and hurt his hand. Nothing too serious, I don’t think, but Jackie played nursemaid back in the office.” I see the large white bandage. “He begged me not to call you, but I knew you’d want to know.”

  Anger curls inside me. “Where’s Raven?” I ask, my eyes scanning the room once again.

  “In the office with Jackie.” Mick sends me a sympathetic look. “Look, I know things are busy at school, but something needs to be done.”

  My entire body tightens. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  What I don’t tell him is that I’m driving out to the trailer multiple times a week to take care of her, even though it’s half an hour from campus. In a perfect world, I’d just move back in with Dad and Raven, but Coach Al requires us to live in the dorms.

  I deal with my dad first, walking over to his booth and shaking his shoulder. “Dad!”

  He reeks of bourbon and stale cigarettes, making bile rise up in my throat. It’s a smell I recall from my early days as a kid, coming home from school to see him passed out on the couch.

  “Mav,” he slurs, raising his head up as spittle slides out of his mouth. “I’m sorry…didn’t mean to…all my fault.” The words are low and barely decipherable through the whiskey.

  “I can’t believe you brought Raven here,” I snap, my gaze brushing over the patrons at the bar. “Anything could have happened to her.”

  “Didn’t have money for a sitter.” His eyes blink up at me, bloodshot and runny with a wetness I don’t want to decipher. I don’t care, I tell myself.

  “You’re a son of a bitch,” I mutter as I lean down and pull him to the edge of the booth so I can swoop him up in my arms.

  His chin falls down to his chest.

  I brush past the bar and carry him out the front door. Ryker is waiting for me, his arms crossed against his chest. Same as me, he’s dressed in workout clothes, and he straightens up from leaning against my truck. Normally I wouldn’t have asked him to come down here with me, but he was with me when I listened to the voicemails. I motion for him to open the door so I can prop Dad up in the backseat.

  He watches me with a grim face, his gaze brushing over my father. “What the hell? Shit,” he mutters.

  With a withering glare at my dad’s lowered head, I head back inside with Ryker following me.

  Mick ushers me to the back office and we sweep inside. Raven is sitting in a recliner watching Family Feud, her face pale and her cheeks stained with tears. Jackie is sitting at the desk working on a laptop, and she gives me a soft nod and a pat on the shoulder. “She’s okay, love, just feeling out of sorts.”

  “Mav!” Raven lights up as she rushes over to me.

  She bursts into tears as she jumps toward me, her thin arms wrapping around my shoulders. God, I need to do better by her.

  “I’m sorry. I never dreamed he’d bring you here.”

  Cupping my face, she searches my eyes then gives a little knock to her head. “I…have…headache.”

  I kiss the top of her head. “Come on, Rav. I got you. Let’s get you home.”

  Later that night as Ryker and I drive back to campus, my head is wrecked, riddled with worry and trying to come up with a solution. Only one thing is certain: I want Raven out of my dad’s trailer.

  The problem is, I don’t have the money to fund it. I can’t ask for a loan from Coach or anyone at school, and I can’t have a job that pays over two thousand dollars; those rules are in place to prevent bribing and payouts. My dad has zero credit, so he’s out as well.

  Ryker keeps shooting me careful looks and I know he’s worried about me, which is funny considering this past weekend he was worried I was causing trouble for the team with Delaney. Obviously, I have bigger issues right now.

  Once we get back to the dorms, I give him a brusque good night then go into my bedroom and dig around in my nightstand for the number the casino owner gave me.

  I recall his offer to pay me money—a lot of money—to fight another football player.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Leslie Brock?”

  “Yes? Who’s this?”

  I clear my throat, picturing the sharp-toothed, plump man who was at Carson’s Gym. “This is Maverick Monroe from Waylon. You made me an offer a few months back when we bumped into each other at Carson’s Gym?”

  “Ah, yes, the famous football player. You have quite the record, young man.”

  Whatever. I know he’s just a bull-shitter. “Are you still interested?”

  “Hmmmm,” he says, as if thinking long and hard, and I clench the phone. I mean, he should be fucking thrilled I called him. I know the deal he’s running, and it’s sketchy as hell. I’m a damn fine player and he’d be crazy—

  “Can you come to Carson’s next week? We can finalize the details there and I can tell you more about the fight.”

  I exhale. “Sounds good. Text me the day and time and I’ll be there.”

  There’s a tone of satisfaction in his tone when he replies. “Excellent. You won’t regret this, Maverick.”

  I tap my screen to end the call.

  I’m already regretting it, but I don’t see any other options.

  Maverick

  The next day Raven and I drive out to Pineview Retreat, a fucking magical place for residents who need extra care.

  The fifty-seven acre facility is located outside Jackson, and there are manicured lawns and flowers every
where you look, even though spring hasn’t really sprung yet in Mississippi. It reminds me of somewhere a movie star might go if they needed a spa to recuperate at.

  It’s a damn far cry from the trailer park we grew up in.

  Raven and I get a tour of the place, including the gym, indoor and outdoor pools, sauna, tennis courts, pottery studio, horse barn, and cinema. Hell, the place even has a bubble bar where you can make your own liquid with different colors then package it and give it away as gifts.

  I want this to be where Raven will live, but I can’t breathe every time I glance down at the dollar amount at the bottom of the paperwork Mrs. Watson, the admissions advisor, has given me.

  She sits across from me in her office, the huge bay window behind her showcasing the horses that roam in the sprawling pasture.

  Raven’s disability compensation would only put a slight dent in the six-thousand-dollar monthly fee, but to even get on the list, I need fifty grand, which acts as a deposit to hold her spot and pays the first few months up front.

  I feel like I might be sick.

  I’m thankful Raven is sitting out in the waiting room.

  “Is everything okay, Maverick?”

  I look up into the kind face of Mrs. Watson. An older lady in her mid-fifties, I sense she can read right into my panic.

  Once again, I’m regretting not going into the draft early, but it’s too late now. Once you send your decision to the board, it’s final, and you can’t go back.

  “Yes. Thank you for the tour and the information.” I paste a smile on my face. There’s no way in hell I can swing this place.

  She nods, her hair carefully coiffed and pulled back at the nape of her neck. “In addition to your sister’s fully furnished apartment, she’ll have three nutritious meals served each day in our cafeteria, or she can opt to visit one of our onsite restaurants with friends or visitors. We have daily group activities and excursions to museums and other places of interest. Just last week we took a group to the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis.” She laughs. “We even do Graceland once a year—talk about an interesting daytrip.” She glances down at Raven’s health history and shuffles through the papers. “I see she sustained a traumatic brain injury in a car accident a few years ago?”