Double Dare You

by Cara Lockwood

  He laughed and then flipped the fried egg in the small pan, and it sizzled in the butter.

  “You did indeed. Is that all you remember? Nothing else?” He sent her a sly glance. Oh, no. Did she sleep with him? She woke up in his bed, after all. She glanced at his pronounced chest muscles. Did she run her hands along that bare skin last night? She wasn’t sure what bothered her more: the idea that she’d done it, or the fact that she couldn’t remember it if she had.

  “N-no.” Now she was getting worried. He was enjoying this far too much. She was almost afraid to ask anything about the night before, but she had a feeling he would tell her anyway.

  Her head still pounded from her hangover headache. She reluctantly moved to the breakfast bar, which at least obscured some of Beck’s bare skin. He handed her a cup of coffee.

  “With nonfat milk, just like you like it.”

  “You remembered,” she murmured, surprised, wrapping her hand around the mug’s handle and taking a long sip of the warm liquid. She didn’t think a little detail like that merited a place in Beck’s memory.

  “I remember everything about you, Allison Connor.”

  He sent her a long, deliberate look. How did he manage to do that? Make her feel like she was the only woman in the world who mattered? She glanced away from him, not sure if prolonged eye contact with him shirtless, and her without pants, was all that good of an idea. Her headache might be going strong, but even it might fall to Beck’s humming charisma.

  She hugged the mug of coffee with her hands as she watched Beck dole out a fried egg onto a piece of toast. He slipped the plate over to her with a grin.

  “Thanks,” she said, suddenly so grateful for the food she wanted to cry. Her stomach growled, and despite having clearly not fared so well last night, it was ready to consume. He cracked another egg into the pan and waited, studying her.

  “Go on and eat,” he said. “You need your strength.” He grinned. “Don’t wait for me.”

  She took a bite of breakfast goodness. It was just what she needed, and she moaned in gratitude. When she opened her eyes, she saw Beck watching her. The expression on his face had grown serious. He seemed intent on watching her eat. She felt suddenly self-conscious. She glanced at the counter and saw a folder stuffed with spreadsheets.

  “What’s this?” she asked, quickly, hoping for a distraction.

  “Willis’s spreadsheets. I’m trying to figure out if I have enough capital to expand the business.”

  “I could take a look at them, if you want. Just as a favor. I can let you know what I think.”

  Beck glanced at her. “That would be great, actually.”

  They stared at each other a beat. Allie didn’t want to break the moment. She liked silence with Beck. It never really felt like silence, as she could almost hear the hum of their connectivity, the way being in a room with him alone just felt like all that she needed.

  “So how much of a fool was I last night?” She didn’t want to hear the answer, but knew she’d have to face it eventually.

  “Well, you kissed me at the bar.”

  “I...what?” Now Allie felt hot and cold all over. Allie furrowed her brow. She had no memory of kissing Liam Beck. “Was that all I did?” she asked, tentative. She sneaked a glance at his bare chest, feeling flaming heat in her cheeks.

  Beck chuckled, a warm, low sound that traveled to her own middle. “No, that was definitely not all.” He flipped the egg and crossed his fit arms across his chest. “You threw up in the bar bathroom, yes, and in the parking lot, and out the door of my truck, and then twice when we got back here.”

  Allie groaned. No wonder her stomach felt so empty and her head hurt so much.

  “Beck, I’m sorry. Do I need to clean up? I...” She stood, a bit too fast, and a sharp pain stabbed her brain behind her eyes. The hangover wasn’t going to tolerate any quick moves this morning.

  “Sit. Eat. I’m just glad to see you human again.” He slid the fried egg onto his own plate and then moved to sit next to her at the breakfast bar. She was reminded of the morning after their first night at the lodge, when he’d made her breakfast. He was good at it. She took another bite of her egg, the warm gooeyness melting on her tongue. The more she ate, the more she felt...closer to normal. She felt stupidly grateful he wasn’t making too much of a big deal about it. He could’ve been lording it over her, teasing her relentlessly. She didn’t have the energy to defend herself at the moment, but that was Beck. Beneath all his bluster and ego, he was amazingly kind. It always took her by surprise. When she expected him to be a jerk, he did something surprisingly nice. Thoughtful, even. It was almost as if he used the egomaniac, player persona to hide his real self, as if it were just a hard shell to protect the big softie beneath.

  He took a bite of his breakfast.

  “But... I mean, did you...? Did we...?” She trailed off. She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Did we have sex? God, she couldn’t believe she even had to ask him this. How had she let herself get into this position in the first place? But then she glanced at his amused crystal-blue eyes and knew the answer to that. Because this was Beck, and he was pretty much irresistible.

  “You want to know if we had a reunion of the carnal kind?” he asked between bites. Her eyes drifted down to his bare chest and she ordered them back up again.

  She could only just nod her head but failed to look him in the eye. What would she do if the answer was yes? She had no idea.

  “And if we did... What do you think of that?” He patted his mouth with a paper napkin.

  “Beck, just tell me, already. Did we or didn’t we?” Now the suspense was really killing her.

  “You hoping we did? Or...didn’t?” He was enjoying this so much. She actually wanted to give him a good shove and tell him to cut it out.

  “Didn’t,” she said, but then she glanced up and saw his pec flex as he moved the piece of toast on his plate to sop up the runny egg yolk and had a sudden change of mind. She wished they did have sex. Somehow, it would be a relief of a sort. Since they’d kissed at the holiday party she’d been worried that sex might just be inevitable, that she’d slip up, like an addict sneaking in a binge. If she had slipped up, then she could start walking the straight and narrow again... Maybe.

  Beck sent her a rueful smile. “You’re in luck. We didn’t.”

  Surprise tickled the back of her neck, and something more... Disappointment? “What about my...clothes, then?” She nodded down to his shirt. “Did you...? I mean...”

  “You were in no place to consent, Al. I don’t take advantage of anyone that way.” He shrugged. “Your clothes are in the wash. During one of your trips to the bathroom, your sweater and jeans got hit. Well...splattered. That’s all. I got you out of them, and into bed—on your stomach—and then I slept on the couch. You were in rough shape.” He glanced at her, clear worry on his face. It was the concern that rattled her, even more than his bare skin. Did he still care about her?

  “So we didn’t...” Allie frowned. She wished she could remember the night, but no matter how hard she tried, no memories came to mind.

  “No, but...” Beck grinned, as he laughed a little. “But not for want of trying on your part.”

  “Oh, no.” Allie covered her face with her hands. She was worried about that. She had a hard enough time fighting her attraction when she was a hundred percent sober and in control. She didn’t want to hear what uninhibited Allie might be like.

  “I mean, you were definitely...absolutely...trying to get me into bed with you.” He threw down his napkin and leaned back on the kitchen stool, enjoying himself.

  “No, no, no.” Allie shook her head and then regretted it, as the headache thrummed in her temples.

  “You might have been sick, but you were tenacious. I had to peel you off me. You tried to take off my pants...three times.”

  Mortifica
tion stung her. And she realized arguing was futile. She felt the truth of his words in her bones. She could imagine herself doing it. That was the worst part. Maybe it was all this Greenie nonsense. Was she trying to prove something to Beck? To herself? Or was she just hot and heavy for the man, and no amount of time or distance would ever cool her desire for him?

  Beck flashed her a grin and then gave her shoulder a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, Al. You weren’t that bad.”

  That just made her think she was that bad...and worse.

  “Well...” She swallowed, almost glad she didn’t remember the scene she’d made. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “Of course.” Beck acted as if he’d always be ready to be called up to protect her. Not as if he was the man who’d walked out of her life. Everything about him confused her.

  “I’m surprised Mira let you take me home.”

  “She didn’t...exactly.” Beck shrugged. “I’d gotten you into my truck already, and she was there, asking you if you were sure, and...” Beck took a deep breath. “And you said you were never surer of anything in your life, and then, I think, you called me a sex god.”

  Allie was going to die of mortification. Right there. She was going to die on the spot. At least, she hoped she did.

  “God!” she wailed and buried her face in her hands again. “Oh...no. Oh, no, no, no.”

  “Mira said she knew it, and then she let you go with me. Is this what you call me to your friends? A sex god?” Even Beck couldn’t quite keep a straight face. His ego was already out of control, and with this new feather in his cap, he’d be intolerable.

  “I’m going to crawl under the bed and die,” Allie murmured, more to herself.

  “Do you think I’m a sex god? Is that right?” Beck flexed his arm muscles in a show of strength. “You never told me that.”

  “I’m literally going to die. Right now. I’m dead. Dying.” Allie pushed away her plate and laid her face on Beck’s breakfast nook. “Just leave me here to die of mortification.”

  “I’ll just use my sex-god powers to revive you.”

  “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Beck laughed. “This is too good.”

  Allie groaned and rubbed her face, as if trying to scrub this nightmare of the last twenty-four hours out of her head. Why had she had so much tequila? Why had she admitted so much? Now Beck held all the cards, and she had none. Again. Why did it feel like a game of poker she could never win?

  “Al,” Beck said, and he put both his big hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “If it’s any consolation, I think you’re pretty much a sex goddess, too.”

  She lifted her head and squinted at him. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Nope. I’m not. You’re sexy as hell, Miss Goddess.” He grinned, mischief in his eyes. “And sex gods don’t lie.”

  “Oh, is that in the Sex Gods’ bible?” Allie teased. She was only vaguely starting to be okay with living.

  “Sure it is. It’s right in our holy book, the Kama Sutra.”

  Allie gave Beck a playful shove. “Okay, so if I’m so great, then why didn’t you call...after? Why’d you ghost me?”

  Beck sighed. Allie didn’t even know why she’d asked. She didn’t really want to know the answer.

  “I didn’t call because you need a steady guy. Not someone like me. I’m reckless. I run away. I’m not the solid relationship type. You deserve all that and more.” He blinked twice and ran a hand through his thick shock of blond hair. He pushed his now-empty breakfast plate away and leaned back on the stool. “But now that you’re flirting with other guys, I’m stupidly jealous. I can’t stop myself, either. I know it’s wrong. But there it is.”

  Allie’s heart ticked up a beat. “You’re jealous?”

  “Yes. Any time a man lays a hand on you, I want to break it.”

  Allie laughed a little bit. “That might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Are you okay? Have you been eating?” he asked, blue eyes tinged with concern. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

  “Why do you care so much?” She couldn’t figure this out. Was it just guilt? Did he not like seeing his decisions had consequences?

  “I never stopped caring about you.” His eyes were so serious now that Allie couldn’t look away from them. How could he truly care about her when he’d let her go?

  “No, I haven’t been eating all that well,” she admitted, though she couldn’t look him in the eye. “Or sleeping, actually.” In fact, the night she’d spent passed out in Beck’s bed was probably the first full night in many weeks. “It’s stupid. It was only a weekend, and believe me, I know you. I never expected you to change. I knew what I was getting into. I just didn’t expect...” She trailed off. She was about to say didn’t expect to fall in love with you. And that would’ve been the dumbest thing she could’ve said.

  Beck sucked in a breath. “This is all my fault.”

  “What’s your fault?”

  “That you’re doing all this crazy stuff. These...dares?”

  “No.” Yes, of course it is, she wanted to shout. But that felt like giving him too much information. Too much power. And she’d already given him far too much of that.

  “You’re not trying to get my attention?” A look passed through Beck’s eyes then. Something like hope? Though she told herself it was just smugness. On another man it would be ego, but with Beck, it was just fact. She and every straight woman in Aspen was interested.

  “No, I’m not trying to get your attention,” she said. “You’re stalking me. I’m just trying to live my life. Without you.”

  He flinched slightly at the last two words.

  “Look, I’m worried about you. That’s all. Last night... You were a little out of control.”

  “And?” She raised her chin a little. She was her own woman who could do as she pleased. She didn’t need a babysitter.

  “What if I hadn’t been there to take you home?”

  “Mira would have.” And Mira now knew the truth, if she hadn’t already, that Allie was still hung up on Beck. So much for the brave face she’d put on for her friend.

  “But what about Taylor? Or what if some other man had taken advantage?”

  “You mean like you?” She took a swig of her cooled coffee, but wrapped both hands around the mug anyway, as if looking for a way to keep her hands busy. She felt fidgety suddenly, and vulnerable, all too aware that she was sitting on Beck’s breakfast stool wearing just his shirt, her bare feet swinging above the ground.

  “You know what I mean.” Beck grasped her elbow and she turned to look at him. She saw genuine worry on his face. She slowly put the coffee mug down.

  “I’m a big girl. You don’t have to look after me, okay? I’m fine.” She was glad her voice came out strong and convincing, at least to her ears. Besides, where was all this concern when she was curled up on her couch eating ice cream from the container and watching slasher films because that was the only way to get away from true love and big-screen kisses and everything else that might remind her of Beck?

  “I think this is all about you regretting your decision to sleep with me.”

  She glanced up at him sharply, suddenly worried that her heart was written across her face in bold ink.

  “I don’t regret that decision.” How could she? It was the best sex of her life. It was like an out-of-body experience, only one that occurred deep within her body. An inner-body experience. The problem was the sex had been all she’d imagined and more. He had been a sex god, and she’d finally worshipped him like she wanted to, and it all made her feel stupid. She was a self-made woman. She made her own money, and took care of herself and didn’t need a man to make her feel whole, and yet...and yet...with Beck, she worried that she did need him.
Too much.

  She studied her coffee mug, not quite able to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to see how much that weekend meant to her. “It was fun. We just took it too far.”

  She had a flash of his mouth on her breast, enveloping her nipple. She almost could feel the hungry heat on her skin.

  “You’re not acting like yourself, is all. Stop these silly dares. And wild partying at the bar and downing tequila shots and...”

  “Wild? Maybe I like wild.”

  “Wild like almost going home with a married man?” Beck’s attention was now fully on her, his blue eyes sharp.

  “Okay, not my best moment, agreed. But I was never going home with him.”

  Beck slowly shook his head. He was now playing the part of the sage father type, but she thought he didn’t do that. Hadn’t he always railed against all things paternal? Yet he was lecturing her like a tired dad of a wayward teen. “You’re going too far. You need to stop this. It isn’t you.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me.” And now she was acting like a petulant teenager. She wasn’t even sure why.

  “I know you better than anyone.” The way he said it made her feel a chill down the back of her legs. They stared at each other for a second and she remembered all the ways he had gotten to know her better than anyone, in his bed. She had to stop thinking about how his hands felt on her, but it was next to impossible with him sitting shirtless and barefoot next to her. Being the object of his full attention felt like being warmed, as if she were sitting by a roaring fire. She’d missed holding his attention, but also hated that she liked it so much. She’d never cared about the attention of other men. And now she’d gone and fallen for the one man everyone wanted. She was living a cliché and she didn’t like it.