Page 12 of Dare Me

But then his voice echoed through the room. “And what do you suggest we actively do?”

I sucked my bottom lip in as I thought about it. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me but I was in too deep to be self-conscious. So I went for it. “We can play the game.”

“The game,” he repeated as if I were a child. I refused to lose confidence.

“Yes. It’s the epitome of us. And it’s obviously going to take time before we can just talk to each other the way we used to. But at least this’ll help us slowly chip away at whatever’s between us right now. Whatever it is, I know I put it there, Callum. I take responsibility for that. So I’m telling you right now that I will do whatever it takes for you to trust me again. But that requires you to try, too.”

“Fine.” He agreed all too easily. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

The hollows of his cheeks flexed. “Tell me everything that happened between the day you left and the day you came back.”

I paused, almost too afraid to correct him. It was silent for a moment. “First rule, Callum,” I murmured. “No daring out truths. You know that. But I’ll do everything else.”

He was silent. Livid. I locked my knees as flames burst behind his eyes and I waited for him to tell me to get out – that he had tried to give me my second chance but I’d made it impossible for him by choosing to keep the biggest wall up. I waited to hear that he was done with me. Truly and officially done with me. But then he spoke again.

“Fine.” He kept his frosty glare pinned tight on me. There was no expression on his face, no tone in his voice, but I could almost feel the spite fill the air as his lips parted to speak. “Then you’re going to take your clothes off for me.”

I blinked. “What?”

“That’s your dare. You said you were still the same Lake. Take your clothes off and let me see.”

I stared at him. It was my turn for silence. But he stood there resolute, waiting for me with intimidating patience. I refused to let myself hesitate for more than another second, so reaching behind my back, I found the zipper of my strapless dress. I kept my eyes on him as I pulled it down, sucking in a sharp breath as I felt the cold air of his apartment blast the skin on my back. His eyes dipped to the tan lace of my bra as my bodice fell forward, crumpling to my waist. I pushed the rest of it down my hips and my thighs till it fell around my nude heels. Stepping out, I lightly kicked my dress aside. My heart was slamming in my chest as I looked back up at Callum, standing for him in just my bra and panties as he leaned back on his heels. His expression was controlled but his glinting eyes devoured me. He slid his hands in his pockets with a short demand.

“Go on.”

I wasn’t naked enough for his liking. Reaching behind my back for my bra, I tried not to look turned on for fear that Callum would be sick enough to cut this short if he knew I didn’t hate it. Because I didn’t. I went as far as to enjoy it because I could see the flickering in Callum’s eyes and it reminded me of how we grew up answering our questions by exploring each other’s bodies. It started with innocence but ended with anything but. We bared our skin and souls for each other. It was what we always did.

His patience wore thin as my fingers caught on the hooks of my bra. “Faster.” His tone awakened my attitude.

“You do it then.”

He came right to me. I held my breath as he stood in front of me, eyes locked on mine as he circled a hand behind my back and unsnapped the clasp with ease. He made no contact with my skin. I barely felt him but I felt my breasts tighten as my bra fell to my feet. Callum’s stare remained on mine as I pushed my panties down and stepped out of them too.

“Shoes?”

“Keep them on,” he said, holding his stare for a moment. Then, finally, he took a step back to take me in. I breathed jaggedly as his hungry eyes traveled unblinkingly across my shoulders and down to my breasts. My hair covered them and I waited for him to tell me to move it but he didn’t. Instead, his gaze moved slowly down the line of my stomach before settling on my right hipbone.

My scar. I blushed as he came forward to study it. It was faint but it was still there and I felt my lip quiver as I watched Callum remember how I got it.

“I told you to jump to the left.”

“I know.”

We were silent, the same pictures of blue sky and clear water running through our heads. I knew we were both recalling exactly when and where I’d gotten that scar. It was during a vacation in St. Barts, with Callum, Caroline and my grandmother, Elena. We were fifteen. Callum had just dislocated his shoulder during wrestling so when he spotted a gorgeous thirty-plus-foot cliff, he dared me to jump off of it for him. My pride refused to let me back out. I always ached to prove that I was just as good as he was – just as good as any of them. But I psyched myself out on the edge and because of that, I forgot Callum’s advice to go left when I finally jumped.

Every second in the air had been pure, exhilarating bliss but I shrieked in pain when I landed. Not from the impact with water but from the jagged rock scraping my entire right side. I muffled the sound with my hand but Callum heard it and in seconds, against doctor’s orders, had jumped right in after me. “I told you to jump to the left!” I could hear him shouting it again, so angry but worried about me as he wrapped his bad arm around my waist and swam us to shore. I could’ve limped back to the villas but he refused to let me. He carried me the whole way and as I bled on him, he went back and forth between cursing me out and murmuring into my hair that I was fine, that I did awesome and everything was going to be okay.

He took the fall when both my grandmother and Caroline screamed at me for doing something so dangerous. I cried my eyes out because while I was used to it with Elena, Caroline never yelled at me. I was her perfect girl. So Callum spent that night with me in the villa, taking care of me and keeping me distracted with funny stories about Theo and Logan and the shitty things they did to the other guys in the locker room after wrestling.

By the time we were home, the only scar I had left from that ordeal was on my hip. And in the years that I was away, I grew kind of grateful for it. There was something oddly comforting about looking down and seeing a memory of Callum marked onto my body. I liked carrying it with me wherever I went. It was my reminder that we once existed.

See? I stared at him. Still the same Lake.

Callum caught my look as I recalled the memory. My eyes were wet, brimming with tears for the way we were but I didn’t let them fall. I stood there and waited for his next request. “Move your hair,” he finally said, standing squarely in front of me.

I did as I was told, the backs of my hands brushing my thick waves past my shoulders. As I cleared the view for him, Callum’s eyes fixed on my breasts. I watched his mouth part just slightly, the tip of his tongue wetting the inner part of his bottom lip. His gaze traced the shape of each full mound, his head shaking so slightly I barely noticed it. I knew he was mesmerized and yet he still wouldn’t let himself touch me. He hadn’t touched me once since I’d come back and it was starting to drive me insane. I’d missed it so much. It felt like I’d been waiting a couple different lifetimes to feel it again.

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