That was the way it’d always worked between the three of them, especially when it came to me.
“If he’s not worth it, then why are you crying?” Dare asked, his eyes returning to hold my gaze. My stomach flipped with trepidation.
“I’m a redhead, my anger is hot-wired to my tear ducts, and I’m pissed, Dare. I just want to spend the rest of the night away from strangers and his stupid cheating face.”
“All right,” he said, studying me for a moment. He swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes moved down the length of my body and rose quickly; so fast I’d wondered if it even happened at all. He let out a long, wary sigh. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“I have a room with a balcony and a bottle of whiskey. Unless you’d rather go downstairs?” I shook my head animatedly, and he headed back down the hall, toward his bedroom. He walked into it, leaving the door wide open, and glanced back at me.
My stomach flipped at the way his eyes roamed the length of my body, settling on my lips. I made my way into his room, looking around. Dare put a little distance between us, crossing over to stand in front of his desk and watched me explore with an unreadable look on his face.
Heart thudding with anticipation, my eyes darted to his bed. It was perfectly made, his bedspread a masculine black. The space around me smelled heavily of him—the laundry detergent he used, his cologne. The scent was woodsy and manly, and I wanted to fall into it.
The room was tidy, no clothes on the floor or drawers half opened. His bass guitar rested on its stand in the corner by his desk, and an acoustic guitar hung on the wall over his desk. There was a low love seat at the end of his bed, and a TV mounted to the adjacent wall.
Dare’s bedroom was decorated the same way as the rest of the penthouse—minimalistic and masculine. A few personal items—a Dean Koontz paperback and a photograph of him with his mom, taken at one of their first tour shows, sat on the end table. Nadine McKenzie beamed with pride, her strawberry-blonde curls billowing in the wind, her arms around her son.
“How has your mom been?” I asked, the words feeling awkward on my tongue. Not knowing what else to do, I sat down on the love seat, tugging down the hem of my short dress. Dare exhaled, and I tensed.
“She’s good.” His answer seemed clipped. My shoulders deflated a little.
“You don’t have to keep me company, Dare. If you’d rather join the party downstairs…I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s your birthday party. You’re not spending it alone.” He tore his gaze away, looking out the patio door…his jaw tense. I got the impression he felt trapped with me.
I nodded slowly, knowing then he wouldn’t leave me—no matter how uncomfortable I seemed to make him. But I couldn’t help but want to prod that a little—whywas I making him uncomfortable?
“Do you want to go outside?” I suggested. He looked back at me, eyeing my outfit warily. “I could use the fresh air…” Maybe we’d both be able to breathe easier out there.
He nodded, and I watched as he walked purposely over to his closet and grabbed a sweater off a hanger, his back to me. Thoughtful and considerate—so like him. I drank in his strong shoulders, and the way his jeans fit snug in all the right places, wishing for things I shouldn’t want.
Averting my gaze when he turned, I could hear as he moved toward me. I focused on the black sweater in his hands—one of theirs, the one with the Flounder logo over the right breast. He stopped a foot away from me and waited. Drawing in a breath, I stood, finally allowing my eyes to rise and catching the tormented look on his face as he let his eyes drop the length of my body.
I had a sudden thought that maybe he’d grabbed the sweater for more reasons than just keeping me warm.
The material of my dress was thin, and I felt overly aware of my own skin. I reached for the sweater—my fingers brushing against his, electrifying me. Taking it from him, I slid it on and zipped it up, covering my pebbling nipples.
He swallowed hard before moving past me to the sliding door, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off his desk before he opened it and stepped out onto the balcony. I followed, feeling all kinds of emotions I didn’t want to label.
Aroused, intrigued, embarrassed—to name a few. But it had to be in my head. I was searching for feelings in places they didn’t exist again, looking for a way of comforting myself after the latest blow to my ego.
Get it together, I told myself before stepping outside.
His balcony was smaller than the main one off the living room, but it still had a remarkable view of the city. Dare leaned against the railing and watched the skyline, his amber eyes faraway. His jaw was locked with tension. It was as if he didn’t know how to act around me, or what to say to me.
It was likeIwas making him nervous, but how could that be?
He was so gorgeous, it was unfair. Then again, I’d always thought that—everybody had. With that jaw structure and his golden hair, he looked like a Nordic god and a Swedish model had a baby. He’d worn his hair on the longer side since high school and would pull it up in a messy bun when he was playing or composing. Right now, it was down—the strands catching in the late February wind.
It was warmer here than back home in Nova Scotia, but I was thankful for his sweater—it kept the bite of the wind off my skin. I nestled into it, sniffing the collar discreetly. It smelled faintly of Dare.
I had dressed up tonight; way more than I usually did. I’d chosen an outfit that was a touch more revealing and darker than my usual wardrobe choices because I’d wanted to be seen as a woman and an equal, not Cal’s kid sister.
When visiting my brother or at Dalhousie, I normally wore outfits a little more daring than I did back home because I could get away with it. Plus, I’d known there were going to be a lot of beautiful women in attendance—there always were an abundance of them at my brother’s parties. But I really hadn’t expected Jason to go off with the first one he saw and cheat on me, and now I just felt stupid and foolish in my fishnet stockings. Like an imposture in this world.
I suppose I was.
