by Paige Edward
DARE ME FOREVER
BY PAIGE EDWARD
Copyright © 2013 Paige Edward
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction without written permission.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
PROLOGUE
Amy
I stood at the edge of the water and felt the cool night sand beneath my feet.
I was on the verge of something huge—a transition in my life that would change everything. The waves crashed softly under the moonlight as the tide gently tugged on my toes, trying to pull me out, into the deep ocean, the vast unknown. I was scared about this new time in my life, but even still I felt excitement stirring in me like water gently set to boil.
It was moments like this I could practically hear my dad’s voice: “In times of trouble, times where you have to make a big decision, that’s when you’ll learn who you are.” He repeated it so often that it became almost like a prayer for him. “Are you the kind of person who lives with her head or with her heart?”
That question stayed with me, guiding the choices I made, gently pulling at me like the waves at my feet that night. Dad said, “You can’t predict what cards you’ll be dealt, or how the dice will role, but you can play it safe, ignore the possibilities around you, and live a smaller life. Or play out the hand you’ve gotten with gusto.” He was careful to make sure I understood…he didn’t believe in gambling but also he didn’t think life should be wasted by fear. He believed in daring to take the plunge, daring to feel, daring to live. Well, he lived by his heart, and little good it did him. At forty-nine years old, he dropped dead of a heart attack.
When he died, I learned what kind of person I was. The quiet, safe life was the one for me. Unexpected things could still happen, but I needed to build a life with a strong foundation, one that was real. Besides, I needed to be practical. I was too busy taking care of my mom and little brother to entertain thoughts of living the way Dad had wanted me to.
And I’d made good on my terms. My little brother was in college, and I was starting my own business. I wasn’t gambling with my heart, and I wasn’t daring to live boldly. I had made my choice and was making the best of my life: I just hoped that if my dad could see me he’d be proud.
But even if you have the best laid plans, life has a way of taking new turns. Those sturdy walls I had built, in order to raise my brother Luke and protect myself weren’t impenetrable. I guess my heart wasn’t satisfied with living safely. But it wasn’t until I connected with him, emotionally, mentally, sexually, that I wanted to tear down those walls, open my heart, and dare myself to really live.
CHAPTER 1
Amy
“Frozen pizza or Macaroni and Cheese for dinner again?” I murmured.
I blew my new shaggy bangs, care of my friend Jaime’s orders, out of my dark blue eyes as I strolled down the frozen food aisle of the local grocery store. I usually walk around the outer edges of the market, as Cosmopolitan advises, for the vegetables and fruits, and where the other unprocessed foods are kept, but fresh food doesn’t hit the spot like delicious cheesy carbs. And the only way to feel better when I’m upset is to eat, and eat some more. There’s a reason they call it comfort food. I desperately missed my brother Luke, who’d just started college mid-year, and moved out of the house. Jaime and Cat, my two best friends, keep telling me I should be enjoying my lack of responsibility as I’ve been Luke’s de facto guardian for the last six years, but it’s hard to be taking care of someone every day, and then all of sudden, not be needed. I felt a small ache in my chest.
To make matters worse, our absentee mother had been calling me non-stop all week. I had pressed the ignore button every time my phone buzzed in my pocket. She always made me feel insecure, and I was tired of talking to her just to be made to feel shitty.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I looked back at the sundry food choices. “Frozen pizza it is,” I muttered. I was allowing myself one week of wallowing in my new empty nest, and this was Day Seven. I pulled the cold cardboard box out of the freezer, and quickly dropped it in the cart. This, coupled with a pint of ice cream, and I’d be ending the week in style. I’d be back to my regular exercise routine of morning jogs, and good eating habits by tomorrow, but I had five hours of carby, sugary goodness left, and I planned to make the most of every second.
I pushed my cart towards the frozen desserts. I scanned the brands until I landed on my favorite, Breyer’s Mint Chip. I was about to open the freezer when I saw the profile of a once very familiar face. I ducked. It couldn’t be him. Snatching the ice cream, I edged my cart towards the edge of aisle four, condiments and canned soup, trying to make out his face more clearly.
It was him. Hunter, my first real boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in almost four years. Of course the first time I ran into him I would be wearing sweats and a running shirt, in a supermarket after a week of binging. At least I was wearing some blush and mascara. I quickly pulled my hair into a low ponytail, hoping to disguise the fact that it had been too long since I’d washed it. Put your game face on, Amy, I told myself. We were high school sweethearts, but he’d ended it abruptly the week of prom. But I was cool—I was fine—really. Okay, maybe I was a sobbing mess in a sequined dress and white corsage for all of prom. But now, five years later, I could at least pretend I didn’t care. Nervously, I started humming a Katy Perry song, “The One That Got Away,” but immediately stopped, realizing the irony.
Staring at a chili spice mix, which promised to make sure your stew Hot! Hot! Hot!, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, heading my way. His broad shoulders, tall frame, and confident saunter. Calm down Amy. Smile, I told myself. Then I realized I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat at a rack of organic spices, which maybe wasn’t the impression I wanted to make—hey I haven’t seen you in years, but please meet my friends, oregano and mint. I stopped smiling, but I also didn’t want him to think I was pondering the deeper meaning of dried rosemary, so I settled for a sort of in-between half-frown which, looking back on it, may have looked more like I was on the verge of an anxiety attack.
Which maybe I was.
“Hey Amy.” Even if I hadn’t seen him, I’d recognize his voice anywhere. After all this time, Hunter’s deep baritone still made my stomach fluttery. I turned slowly and smiled. He looked the same, but older. His face was more defined, his jaw broader, with stubble he never could have grown in high school. He
was even more built than before and the short sleeved polo shirt he wore showed off all those muscles perfectly, his tight biceps pulling the white fabric taut. I found myself wondering how hard they felt.
“Hey, Hunter.” I sounded surprised to see him, even to myself. “Do you come here often?” I smiled. Lame joke. I wanted to whack myself in the forehead. But better than admitting that he had gotten super hot since we last saw each other or that when I’d thought of him over the past few years, the first word that came to mind was asshole.
He smiled down at me. “Oh, just picking up some food for my parent’s barbeque tomorrow. How’ve you been? It’s been a long time. You look great Amy.” He said my name like he used to. Slowly, like a caress. It was still enough to make me swoon, which was frankly annoying.
Keep it light I reminded herself. Jamie always teases me for being too honest, not having any game. She’s always thinking about how she can win whenever she talks to an old boyfriend, or even a potential new one. I feel like most of the time, I’m just trying to sound like myself. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing--when I find a man, I want him to be attracted to the real me.
“Things are good. I’m opening a stationary and gift store. Just working hard, and didn’t have a chance to change after helping my neighbor clean out her garage.” I gestured to my outfit and laughed. “Anyway…” I was worried I would start to babble. I ran my fingers through my bangs and pushed them out of my eyes.
“You always did help people out,” he said. His deep brown eyes, speckled with light flecks of green, stared into mine, a beat too long. My stomach began doing somersaults. I was irritated he still had this effect on me, even so many years later. It’s not like I hadn’t had other relationships since high school.
“What are you doing in town?”
Hunter pulled his eyes away from mine. “I decided to come back and work alongside my Dad.” He frowned, seeming at a loss for words.
“So um, I don’t want the ice cream to melt,” I said, pointing to my cart.
Hunter tilted his head toward the check-out line. “Ladies first.” He put his hand out, gesturing for me to lead the way, as he pointed towards the cashiers. I pulled my cart in front of him, hoping those extra slices of pizza with a side of Ghirardelli chocolate hadn’t yet made it to my thighs. I looked back, and caught his eyes sliding down the backside of my slim frame. I think he was checking out my ass. His gaze met mine again and he smiled.
As I put my groceries on the conveyor, I took some deep breaths. We were together in high school and it didn’t work out. Like most high school relationships. And he’d been a total douchebag, again not so surprising. Relax, I rubbed the back of my neck.
But there was something about Hunter that got me all flustered. A chemistry that he exuded, or maybe it was just the memories from the time were together. My father had died before we got together, and being with Hunter, well, it felt like I’d finally come up for air. Finally was back to the living. And his family had been a beacon of light to my brother Luke and me, especially his mom. She believed in me when I needed an adult to care. It was probably just nostalgia, the way I was feeling, not Hunter himself, I thought. But then why was my heart throbbing, and my body on high alert?
“Can you believe these magazines?” Hunter’s voice interrupted my thoughts. He fingered the cheap tabloid in front of him. “Alien baby found in hospital—like the extraterrestrial geniuses would teleport down to the great US of A just for our stellar healthcare system?” He pointed to another trashy cover. “‘Split up again’—how many kids do they have again?”
I giggled, despite myself, dropping the mint chocolate chip ice cream and spice mix on the belt.
Hunter reached over my arm into the cart. “You forgot these.” He unloaded some Campbell soups I’d hastily dropped into the seat when I’d been spying on him from afar. His arm brushed mine, and I could feel heat where his skin had briefly touched mine. My body tingled.
His phone buzzed. He took out his iPhone, made a face, and quickly texted back. “Sorry, Amy—the office,” he explained while typing.
He put his hand on my shoulder, and gently rubbed it. A shiver ran down my spine. Again he looked me deep in my eyes. “Amy, really, it’s great to see you. Come to the barbeque tomorrow. My parents are in the same house, off Dewitt Drive. 4 o’clock.”
I hadn’t been to his place since a few months before we’d broken up. I hated to think of that time. I wondered if the house would look the same, if it would bring me back to what my life was like before everything changed, again. I shook the thoughts from my mind. Hunter cleared his throat, averting my gaze as he added, “And bring whoever you want, of course.”
The cashier rang up my purchases. I grabbed my bags, putting them back into the cart. “Tomorrow, right,” I said, even though there was no way in hell I would go to Hunter Morgan’s house. I could barely talk to him for five minutes in the market, without being totally overwhelmed by a million different emotions. Summoning all my strength and trying to sound cool, I said “Really great to see you again Hunter.” I hurried out the automatic doors to my old VW Bug.
As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my phone rang. Jamie. I pushed speaker. The cops are notorious for ticketing anyone and everyone they find holding their cell phone while driving, especially on the busier streets of Solana Beach.
“Hey Ames, want to go out tonight?” Jamie asked in a singsong voice. She was always up for a party, and was expressly against my carbo load, especially since she thought this new period without so much responsibility was the beginning of good things for me. She was right—it was time for me to get a little wild. I didn’t want to admit it though…well not just yet.
“Jamie, I just ran into Hunter. Morgan. From high school.” I could hear how excited my voice sounded. I hated that. I sounded like a teenager who’d ran into a rock star.
“I know who Hunter is, Amy. Where are you?”
“Sitting in my car leaving the Ralph’s parking lot, wearing sweatpants and a running shirt.”
“Not the green one,” Jamie groaned, “the I’m-super-upset-and-only-wash-it-once-a-month, gross tee?”
I made a left turn towards home. “Whatever. Not like he was checking me out anyway. Although he did invite me to a barbeque tomorrow afternoon. Not that I’m going.”
“Well, good. Cause I can’t wait to come with you,” she squealed, clearly ignoring what I’d just said. “They always had the best barbeques. Remember how we used to go in high school? Hey maybe there will be some cute guys there. I’m sick of all the men we know.” Jamie took a breath. “Um, Amy, hello? Are you still there?”
I bit my lip. If I admitted to Jamie that seeing Hunter again had made thrilled me and turned me into a total girly girl, she would never stop teasing me. And I deserved it. He’d been a total tool and I shouldn’t feel anything towards him. But I wasn’t gonna go to the party. I’d probably just devolve into a puddle of hormones, or get really angry at how he’d ended things.
“I can’t go. I have too much work to do at the store,” I said convincingly. Or so I thought.
“Whatever Amy. You still have to eat. We’re going. See you tomorrow afternoon. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”
“We’ll see,” I whispered. But Jamie had already hung up as I pulled into my driveway. I lived in the same cute house I’d grown up in, but now I had it all to myself. The fruit trees that we had since I was little bore delicious tangerines and apples and I’d added a flower garden down the path leading from the front door, and a small vegetable garden to the side yard. I loved the house, but I didn’t love living alone.
My little brother was growing up, and had just moved into the dorms with some friends from school. I was happy for him, but a little hesitant about this new part of my life. I’d never lived alone. After our father died and our mother left because she needed to “find herself” (her words, not mine), I’d had no time really to think of myself. I just wanted to make a home for Luke. I wan
ted him to have all the stability I lacked in my childhood. So I’d gone to college nearby, worked all year at a cute boutique on the local shopping street, and made sure that we had at least one meal a day together, usually dinner.
I unlocked the front door and put my purse down on the small table next to it. I’d miss spending time with Luke and, if I was really honest with myself, I’d miss the responsibility of taking care of someone else. At least then I didn’t have to think about what I wanted. I didn’t have the time.
Speak of the devil. I heard a car drive up and saw Luke’s Pontiac at the curb. Only a week, but he missed me too…or missed a home-cooked dinner. When things had been good at our house, before we lost both parents, the four of us had eaten together every night. Luke and I had missed that after Dad died and Mom stopped trying. Finally one day I realized Luke and I could still have that, and I started really learning how to cook. Good thing too, as my mom left us soon after.
Perfect timing, Luke would totally take my mind off of my run-in with Hunter. It had been a week of indulging myself in frozen foods and self-pity—tonight I’d make us both a hearty dinner and catch up on his life.
I was so happy he was getting a chance to be eighteen and really live it up. I wanted details.
CHAPTER 2
Amy
“Don’t make me do it.” I gripped the door handle hard. Lines of cars parked along the street in front of Hunter’s parent’s house. We’d finally found a spot down a small side street. But after circling the block too many times to count, I still wasn’t ready to leave the safety of Jamie’s car.
Jamie finished braiding her long blond hair, swiping her bangs behind one ear. “Ames, we’re going,” she got out of the car, pulling her vintage floral dress down, smoothing the hip hugging fabric. She smacked her lips together. “You look amazing, and Hunter won’t know what hit him.”
I took a deep breath, gathering my purse from the floor of the car and smiled. “Hunter? Who’s Hunter?” I asked, tilting my face sideways.
