“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He looked at me quizzically. “Why what?”
Fuck it. I ran with it. “Why now? What’s changed?”
Dare moved his leg and rolled to his back. With the heels of his hands, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and then raised on one elbow to face me.
“Nothing’s changed. Not when it comes to you. I’ve always felt this way.” He blew out a big breath that ruffled his bangs. “Why now? Because I’m failing. Not school, just… At everything. I can’t keep going on like this. Being everything for everyone at the expense of myself. I’m miserable. So miserable I can’t fucking breathe. I've sacrificed everything, given up the best parts of myself, for what? Where’s the payoff? All just to please a man who can’t fucking stand me.”
He laughed bitterly, but all I heard was anger and sadness. I brushed the hair from his eyes. “Your father loves you.”
Dare’s face hardened. “Have you ever asked yourself why he loves you just the way you are, but he holds me to a different standard? The very things he admires about you, your free spirit, your creativity, the courage you showed in coming out, he would never admire those things in me. I have to soldier on andbe the spitting image of him. Why, Tru? Why is beingmenot good enough?”
“I don’t know.” My voice came out soft, laced with compassion. “But you’re right, you can’t go on like this. I see you struggling. I know what it costs you to wake up every day and be someone you’re not.”
“I would have. I‘d have kept right on if it wasn’t for fuckface. Seeing you with him sent me over the edge.”
“His name is Brian,” I said, biting back a giggle. “He's a really nice guy. He’s?—”
”Don’t,” Dare silenced me. “Don’t sing his fucking praises. To me, he’s fuckface, and I don’t wanna hear one nice thing about him.” He stared into my eyes, searching for something. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with him. Please, God, tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. I’ve never… We kissed. I have a feeling he had plans for us last night after the party.”
“I bet,” Dare snorted. “That’s why he kept shoving drinks down your throat.”
“He didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”
Dare leaned closer until his breath hit my neck. “Did you? Did you want it? Were you runningtohim, or just runningawayfrom me?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
His voice whispered over my lips. “Tell me anyway.”
I couldn’t. Couldn’t even swallow. My heart thundered in my ears, and all I knew was that Dare was about to kiss me again.
“Kiss me, Tru.”
My breath hitched. “Are you daring me?”
“No, I’m begging you.”
Something I’d heard him swear a dozen times he’d never do. “You don’t have to beg, just ask me.”
But Dare didn’t ask; he just took.
His lips crashed into mine as if he’d been waiting years to breathe me in. I kissed him back like I was starving and I’d never get another chance.
I parted my mouth beneath his, and he groaned, sliding his hand into my hair, anchoring me there, like I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
We were chest to chest now, nothing between us but heat and history and six years of what-ifs. His thigh pushed between mine, and I gasped, arching into him instinctively, desperate for more friction, more proof that this was real.
He pulled back just enough to look at me. “Tell me to stop, Tru. I will.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t. I dragged my fingers through his hair and whispered, “Don’t you dare.”
He kissed me again, moving his lips softly, reverently, over mine. His hands explored, tentatively at first, then bolder. Fingertips skimmed the hem of my shirt and slid underneath. The warmth of his palm against my bare stomach made me shiver.
“I’ve thought about this so many times,” he murmured, lips brushing my jaw, my neck. “Touching you. Making you feel good. Making you mine.”
