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“You ready?” he asks.
No, but I screwed everything up when I tried to run away. “I guess. ”
While I’m not a party virgin, a party in the woods with a bonfire is a first for me. A group dances in front of a large rusty Jeep. Others hang near the bonfire or on the tailgates of trucks. The whole setup has a Lord of the Flies quality. At least the movie version of the book.
Ryan and I wade through the knee-deep grass and it crunches beneath my wannabe
Chuck Taylors. Some of the longer blades swat at me, slashing at the bare skin exposed by the rips in my jeans. I hate the country.
The closer we get to the party, the slower I walk and Ryan matches my pace. With each step, he bridges the distance between us and a couple of times his fingers skim against mine.
Butterflies flutter through my blood and the stupid little girl part of me wants him to touch me.
The other part would slug him if he did.
“Parties make you uncomfortable?” he asks.
“When they make me feel like Daniel stepping into the lion’s den. ”
I try to suck in my smile when I hear the surprise in his voice. “You know the story?”
Thanks to my short stint in VBS with Lacy, I can recite the books of the Bible, New and Old Testament, and a few other random verses.
“Even the devil knows who God is. ”
“You’re not the devil, Beth. ”
“Are you sure?”
That sweet smile graces his lips. “No. ”
I laugh. It’s a good laugh. The type that digs deep down into my toes and tickles my insides.
What feels even better is the sound of him laughing right along with me.
“Come on. I promise they won’t eat you.
Half the girls here claim they’re vegetarians and I can take the guys. ” He does the one thing I hoped for and dreaded: his hand tangles with mine and he tugs gently for me to follow.
I like the touch of his hand. It’s warm.
Strong. And I let the part of me that loved ribbons live for a few seconds and entwine my fingers with his. If I learned one thing from Vacation Bible School, it was that resurrection of the dead is possible.
Ryan walks toward a truck where Chris and Logan sit on the tailgate. They laugh loudly, then stop when they see me. Tucked between Chris’s legs, Lacy offers me a friendly smile.
“Did the mud call to you again, Ryan?” asks Lacy.
Ryan chuckles. “Yeah. ”
Mud? How did Lacy know…I glance down at my outfit. Mud—everywhere. Just great.
“Hell,” says Chris. “You actually convinced her to show. Did you give him your phone number too?”
I blink. “What?”
“You’re holding his damn hand. ”
Right. I am. Stupid me. The bet. First the phone number. Then the date. The Jeep ride disoriented me into momentary forgetfulness.
