Her hands disappear from my waist; she lets go of me, stretching her arms out wide. Holding them out to either side of her like she’s flying, tipping her head back while she laughs wildly. I’m careful to keep the bike steady, catching a glimpse of her in my mirror, visor up, blue eyes sparkling, reflecting theglow of the city lights around us. That laugh turns to shouts of excitement just as fireworks illuminate the sky high above the river.
Rose’s hands come back to my waist and I take us down to a secluded little spot I know, pulling to a stop right beside the river.
“Wow,” she says, taking off her helmet and staring up at the bright lights exploding through the night sky.
I ignore the fireworks, choosing instead to watch her.
“Lucky timing,” she says with a smile, looking up at me.
A little smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Maybe not luck.”
Her blue eyes flash with surprise. “You knew?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal, even though it is. I don’t even know this girl, yet she’s got me unbalanced, doing things I never thought I would do.
She stares up at me and I notice how close she is. I study her face, memorizing every little detail. Rose is all soft contrasts; long, dark lashes frame eyes the color of the summer sky; a faint scattering of freckles decorate her cheeks. Her dark hair falls in loose waves down her back, a deep, dark shade of brown that you might mistake as black when the light shifts. It makes me wonder how it would look wrapped around my fist.
And then there are her lips—soft and full—and I’m reminded how they felt on mine. The taste of her still lingers on my tongue, and like the sweetest of drugs, I crave more.Needmore. I lean in, wanting to kiss her again.
But she pulls away, forcing me to stop. My jaw clenches and I look up. She’s not looking at me, her eyes are in the direction of the fireworks but I know she’s not watching them. There’s a newfound tension in her body and I know she’s watching me—my reaction—from the corner of her eye.
Her rejection was quiet, subtle, just enough of a reminder thatshe’s not mine.I don’t get to kiss her whenever I want. Ishrug it off, sliding my hands into my pockets, but I’d be lying if I said her rejection didn’t sting worse than a gunshot wound.
I keep my eyes on the sky overhead. The crackle and boom of the dynamite does nothing to soften the tense silence stretching between us.
“Do you want to play a game?” The sound of her soft voice surprises me and I glance down.
“Do you want to play a game?” she repeats when I don’t answer her.
My eyebrows lift. “A game?”
“It’ll be fun.” She smiles, nodding, trying to convince me.
“I don’t like games.” My tone is harsher than I mean it to be but I stand by it, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Truth or dare?” she continues, as if she hasn’t heard me.
“Isn’t that a game for kids?”
“Depends on how you play.” Her eyes sparkle and she bats those thick eyelashes of hers.Is she flirting with me?
“Truth.”
She rolls her eyes. “Coward.”
My eyes narrow on her. “Careful, little Rose.”
Her answering smirk tests the boundaries of my restraint.
“What’s your biggest regret?”
“I don’t have one,” I can say without hesitation. And I don’t. I stand by every decision I’ve made. I own them.
“C’mon, everyone regrets something.”
“Not me,” I insist, shaking my head.
She frowns, while at the same time her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Well, if you can’t answer the question, you have to do a dare. Those are the rules.”
