while giving the evil eye to some guy who stares at the contours of Beth’s waist. “You can’t double dog dare unless I turn down the initial dare.”
She arches a brow. “Are we really going to talk semantics?”
I place a hand on her hip and back her
against the wall. “That’s a big word, Beth.
Maybe you should explain it.”
A wicked smile touches her lips and raw
hunger settles in her eyes, but instead of melting into me as I am into her, Beth pushes me away and ducks underneath my arm. A guy walks out of the building and Beth catches the door before it has a chance to lock behind him.
“It means you’re an idiot if you think I’m HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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going to let you talk your way out of this.”
She gestures for me to enter the lobby and I do. “I wasn’t going to talk. I was going to kiss my way out of it. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since we kissed?”
“If you talk to your brother, we’ll kiss. A lot.”
“How about we skip this and move straight on to kissing?”
She ignores me and studies the large map of the dorm layout on the wall. “I officially dare you to talk to your brother.”
I cross my arms over my chest as my back
straightens. Beth officially threw down the gauntlet. “Fine. What do I get if I win?”
Her raven hair cascades like a waterfall as she inclines her head toward me. A sexy glint lights her eyes. “What do you want?”
You. But that isn’t what I permit to come out of my mouth. “I want you to spend the rest of the day with me. No cell phones. No friends.
Nothing but me and you.”
“Deal.”
BETH EXPERTLY MANIPULATES our way past
the RA guarding the entrance to Mark’s floor.
I’d call him an idiot, but I’m well aware that HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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she used the same manipulation skills to
convince me to drive to Lexington. To my
horror, Beth knocks on my brother’s door
without asking if I’m ready. Any hope Mark would be in class ends when the doorknob jiggles and Mark’s large, looming figure stands in the door frame.
Beth flashes a wicked smile. “S’up, Mark.
How was the game against Florida?”
He hesitantly grins as his eyes flicker
between me and Beth. “I sacked the
quarterback twice. Don’t you watch the news?”
She shrugs. “No. I’m pretending to care
about football in order to break the ice. I’ll be in the lobby.” Beth nonchalantly walks off the way we came. Even when the door at the end of the hallway shuts, I still watch. After dragging my ass here, I never thought she’d leave me to do this on my own.
Mark steps away from the door and forces
cheerfulness. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah.” I mimic his tone. Mark and I never forced anything before this summer.
Mark’s dorm room is the same as it was last year. I can tell he has the same roommate by the posters of Star Wars hanging on the wall.
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“Where’s Greg?”
“Class. Do you want something to drink?”
He opens a small fridge. “Gatorade, water?”
My mouth tastes like the desert, but I don’t want to prolong this. “I’m sorry.”
Mark closes the fridge and sits on the
bottom bunk. His fake smile vanishes and I shove my hands in my pockets. The Band-Aid method sucked for both of us. I wish I could make our relationship strong again. Mark was the first person I told when I pitched a no-hitter, made my first all-star team, and kissed a girl. Now, I don’t even know what words to stutter out next.
“How’re Mom and Dad?” he asks.
How’re Mom and Dad. I can answer that. I
take a seat on the two-seater couch next to the bunks. “Okay. Dad’s busy. He’s expanding the construction business and he plans on running for mayor.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Wow.
“And Mom?”
“Wrapped up in her social clubs and events like normal. Lunches. Dinners. Teas.” I pause, wondering if I should say what I’m about to.
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“She misses you.”
Mark leans forward and holds his hands
together between his bent knees. “Does Dad ever mention me?”
The hope fighting to surface on Mark’s face makes looking at him painful. If I answer with a plain yes, I create false hope, or I could tell him the truth. None of the answers are ones I want to give. “Did you ever want to do anything besides football?”
Mark scrapes his knuckles against his jaw before snatching a book off his bed and tossing it to me. I catch it in midair. “Quality Lesson Plans for Secondary Physical Education?”
“I’m an education major.”
“Since when?”
“Since….” Mark drums the fingers of his
clasped hands once. “Always.”
Faking interest in the pages, I flip through the book. “I thought you were pre-med.”
“That’s what Dad wanted me to major in.
College for Dad was nothing more than a step toward the NFL. The pre-med was if I got injured. Mom wanted one of us to be a doctor.
That was Dad’s way of making her happy.”
Mark’s organized his desk the same as last HC TITLE-AUTHOR