Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  It’s an extraordinary love story, but I can’t help but wonder how much of it rings true for Trent and I. There are so many similarities, yet so many differences.

  After the play, we head back to his house to have some wine and soak in the hot tub, but I can’t shake this sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s like I watched mine and Trent’s relationship play out until the end, right in front of my very own eyes.

  But how accurate or true could this be?

  I’d rather not live an unstable life hopping from one job to the next, not knowing how I’d pay my next bill or my next car, and I sure didn’t want to guess if and how Trent and I would work. I wish I had half of the confidence and perseverance that Trent has.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks as we settle into the hot tub.

  I put my lips to the rim of the wine glass and stare at his handsome features before taking a long, slow sip of the delicious red wine. There’s no doubt he pays thousands of dollars per bottle.

  The sweet wine rolls around my mouth as the bubbles pop on my tongue and I debate my answer.

  “That play that we watched. What did you think about it?”

  He laughs at my silly question. We both know there are more things on my mind than the events of the play, but in my opinion, that’s where it all started, with the play.

  “Come on, Joline, we both know you weren’t thinking about that silly play, but if you must know, I liked it.”

  “What did you like?”

  “Specifically?” he drinks from his wine glass. “The way you watched it so intently. It seems like it must have had an impact on you if you’re still talking about it.”

  He knows me well.

  “I don’t know if impact is the right word, but it did make me think. It kind of reminded me of our relationship.”

  “Ours?” he asks.

  He scoots next to me and doesn’t stop until our legs are touching. The water shooting out of the jets near me is obscured by his frame, diminishing the little veil of protection that was separating us seconds ago as he outstretches his arm around me.

  Taking another long sip of wine, I pretend like my question wasn’t silly. At least, I didn’t think it was.

  “Yes. Didn’t you pick up on the similarities?”

  Surely by now, he’d be able to spot the flaws in our relationship and would be able to detect how closely Love Letters mirrored our own relationship. Well, except Andrew didn’t have a hot, dangerous brother clouding up the mix and I never went to any fancy schools, but I’ve never had anything work in my favor.

  “No,” he says. “I think you’re making something out of nothing. What we have going is a good thing, and I don’t know about you, but I’m happy. Very glad.”

  I’m happy too, but I can’t stop this nagging, sinking feeling like I’m going to lose him somehow.

  “Me too,” I say.

  I don’t see a point in making something out of nothing. Maybe he’s right. It’s still too early in our relationship to tell how things will work out.

  Maybe for once in my life, I can have some stability.

  I do have a dedicated man by my side. One that my dad loves and has a good relationship with—and that’s important to me. My dad has always looked out for me so having his approval of a man tells me that I’m making healthy choices, which is something I need to know or at least, hear now and then.

  If only I could find a stable job and get back on my own two feet. I hate not being able to support myself.

  Chapter 10

  Present

  My hands are shaking as I apply my lip gloss and pull my hair back. I can’t believe that I’m actually going through with it. If we get caught, there’s no telling what will happen to us. I’m scared to death, but my credit cards are almost completely maxed out, and I’m no closer to getting a car than I was three months ago when I first arrived home.

  I need to get some cash coming in and do it quickly.

  The job market hasn’t been so kind to me. I’ve gone on some interviews, but nothing materialized from them. Other than that, I have hunted down job leads, sent my resume out to countless employers who had job postings and filled out applications for anyone who was advertising help wanted that was near my house.

  This was the kind of break that I’d been hoping for and wishing for. But why did it feel so wrong? Why did I feel so dirty?

  Oh, that’s right.

  Maybe because counting cards is highly frowned upon since it’s cheating and I lied to Trent. I lied to him to be with his brother. Maybe not in the sexual aspect, but in the physical. I may just have to change my name to Sleazy Joline because a sleaze ball is the only kind of person who cheats and lies.

  I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. How can I tell him that he’s with a broker loser? Someone who doesn’t know what’s going to happen in her life from one day to the next when he’s got everything planned out.

  The lies that I spun to Trent are still tugging at my heart strings from when he called me earlier. I’ll never forget our conversation. It was the first time that I have ever lied to him. Even growing up together, I never lied to him or Zack.

  “Where have you been?”

  That was the first question out of his mouth as soon as I answered. Not a, “Hello, baby, how are you?” or “I’ve been missing you today.” Nope. A straight up, “Where have you been?”

  “Oh, I was sleeping.”

  It wasn’t a total lie. I just omitted the “with your brother” part. Shaking my head at myself, I continued on with my charade.

  “Sleeping? Where? You know I tried to find you after I left to get my car keys, but you were gone.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I remember you leaving me in a chair, and I guess I was so drunk that I fell out of it and hit my head. Karli and Chris saw me lying on the floor and helped me to my feet. I was really trashed, so Karli had Chris take me to my hotel room that was next door to the reception.”

  “Really?”

  He sounded like he didn’t believe me. And why should he? I was lying through my teeth.

  “Yep,” I laughed nervously. “Chris said he carried me over his shoulder like a toddler and I collapsed on the bed. Housekeeping woke me this afternoon when they were pounding on the door to clean the room.”

  I’m going straight to hell. I know it. God knows it. And Satan’s waiting for me.

  “Well, that’s funny. I talked to Chris earlier today, and he never mentioned any of that to me.”

  “He must have forgotten all about it. It was a big night for him and Karli,” I tried to reason with him.

  Mental note, call Karli later to have our stories match.

  “What I find funny is that you disappeared right along with my brother.”

  Someone must have sucked the air out of my lungs because I could feel them deflating. It felt like someone was crushing them.

  “That’s crazy, maybe he had other plans.”

  I wasn’t even about to offer an explanation as to where he went or why we disappeared simultaneously.

  “What are you doing tonight? I thought that the two of us could pick up some dinner and hang out. Talk.”

  “Oh, um,” I swallowed, even though my mouth was dry. “I can’t hang out tonight. I’ve made plans already, but I’ll take a raincheck for tomorrow.”

  “Rain check for tomorrow? You’ve never…,” his voice seemed to grow farther away from the phone. “Hang on. This call is important.”

  Without another word, or waiting for me to say okay, he clicked over to the other line. I waited for a few seconds before deciding to hang up. Whatever it was, it must have been important because he still hasn’t called me back.

  I have a little time before he’s supposed to arrive so I pick up my phone to call Karli. It’s best to get our stories straight before Trent asks Chris anything.

  “Girl! Tell me what’s going on!” she says as she answers the phone.

  I’m
really getting sick of these new greetings. No ‘hello,' no ‘how’s it going,' no ‘what’s up?’.

  “Why? What do you mean?” Goosebumps prickle across my skin and for some reason, I feel like I’m on high alert.

  “Girrrrl, Trent called trippin’ today. He was asking Chris all kinds of questions. You better spill it now. Everything.”

  “Shit,” I swallowed. “Okay.”

  For the most part, she remains silent as I fill her in on my night before but it doesn’t matter how quiet she is because I can hear the disappointment in her voice during the times that she does make a sound.

  “Listen, Trent adores you. You know—we both know—that both of these men have had it out for you since we were teenagers, but girl, why? If you go playing with fire, you’re going to get burned.”

  “I know. I know,” I agree with her. “It’s just that, if Trent asks you guys anything, I need you to say that—”

  “No,” she cuts me off. Her words are firm. “I’m not going to participate in your games. I’m not going to help you lie to an honest man. A man who is better for you than any other man in the world. I won’t get involved or caught up in your games. You need to make a decision, and do it quickly.”

  I am angry at her for not helping me. I shouldn’t be, but I am. I’m also upset that she is telling me how it is, but that’s also why we’ve always been such good friends. She keeps it real. She keeps things in check.

  But right now, I don’t need her breathing down my neck. I’ve been too embarrassed to tell her about my money problems, so she has no idea. She has no right to judge me for why I’m doing what I’m doing, regardless the reason.

  “I know that!” I snap at her. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I’m not sure what hurts worse: knowing that I’ve lied to Trent or the fact that my best friend called me out on it. Either way, it’s a hard pill to swallow.

  But right now, I don’t have time to harp on things. I have to get my mindset in the right place if I’m going to help count cards tonight. Zack and his team are counting on me. Hopefully, I’ll be as amazing tonight as I was last night.

  Pulling on my heels, I hear a knock at the door.

  Shit, he wasn’t kidding when he said 9:30 sharp!

  “Hi,” I say, sliding out of the door, hoping that he didn’t wake my father. “You’re right on time.”

  “I told you what time to be ready. I’m never late.”

  Catching me by surprise, he opens the car door for me and motions for me to get in. “Ladies first,” he says.

  A cool, autumn breeze carries the scent of his cologne towards me, and he smells incredible. Smiling, I thank him and take my seat in the car. As he’s walking around the rear of the car, I begin to feel uncomfortable, but that feeling amplifies once he gets in and sits next to me. This time, there is no liquor to put me at ease.

  There’s an electrical charge in the air that is making the peach fuzz on my skin stand on end. I almost want to yell to stop, but my voice betrays me. I sit in silence as he puts the car in gear and wraps his arm around the back of my seat as he reverses out of my driveway.

  “So, um, we’re going to Rigozzi’s again?” I ask.

  “Yes, that’s one of the many places that we like to go. They have some new dealers, so the decks have been on fire there!”

  “You don’t think they’ll catch on? Who runs it anyway? The gambling portion?”

  Rigozzi’s is an Italian restaurant. Rumor has it that it’s owned by the mafia, and I’m sure they wouldn’t think twice to whack somebody who they suspected of ripping them off. I’ve heard they’ve murdered for less.

  When we were in high school, they were all over the news in the St. Louis area. There was a story circulating that the cops were looking for these two men who were suspected of approaching young women and molesting them in alleyways. It didn’t matter how many composite sketches they showed of the men, police could never find them. Supposedly, one day, the two men cornered the owner’s daughter but were unsuccessful of laying a finger on her.

  But when Mr. Rigozzi’s daughter told him of her dealings with the men, two men—the very next morning—were found dead in a dumpster just a few blocks from the Italian restaurant. Dickless.

  Everyone in the metro area talked about it all over town. Except for on The Hill. The Hill is the Italian section of St. Louis where Italian restaurants line the streets. No one dared speak of the two men there for fear that Mr. Rigozzi would hear and it would upset him. Nobody in their right mind would provoke Mr. Rigozzi.

  “The owner’s son. The old man ran it until he had a heart attack last year. Now his kid runs it, but he’s just as mean as the old son-of-a-bitch he replaced.”

  “Great,” I sigh.

  There’s still time to back out. You can still bail on him.

  But if I do, I’ll be in the exact same predicament that I’m in now and won’t be any closer to paying my bills or having a car. It will also upset Zack if I skip out on him now. They have a system that he has to adhere to. He can’t show up late, and I’m not about to be walking the street at night if he doesn’t have time to take me back home.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as you think and when you were there last night, everyone got a kick out of you.”

  “I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” I’m almost afraid to know the answer to the question, but I have to know.

  “No, no. Nothing like that. You were just…rather flirty, and a bit loud.”

  “Who was I flirty with?” He smiles at me. A huge, shit-eating grin plastered from ear to ear. “You? Was it you?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I was a perfect gentleman and didn’t take you up on any of your offers or advances. Kevin and Travis, though, they might have taken you up on the offer if you weren’t working with us. Angie was a bit annoyed so don’t be surprised if she doesn’t seem friendly when you see her tonight.”

  “Kevin, Travis and Angie?” I ask, unfamiliar with the names.

  “Yeah, they’re spotters. Well, except for Angie. She’s a big player like me. You, Travis and Kevin will be playing at different tables, counting the cards and signal either Angie or myself over when the cards get hot.”

  “How will I know who’s who? Like how will I make sure I sit down at a different table? And what does Angie look like?”

  He chuckles. “Calm down. Travis kind of looks like Jesus. Full beard and a mustache. Dark hair with pale skin. I’d say he’s about 5’8 or so? He’s kind of short, and a little on the stocky side. I think he’s in his early 40’s.”

  “So if I see a guy that looks like Jesus, his name’s Travis?”

  “Yep. And Kevin is medium complected, a couple of years older than us. He looks like he should be working at Best Buy. Khaki pants and polo shirts. Brown work boots. Always.”

  “What does Angie look like?” I’m almost afraid that he’ll say she’s prettier than me, but I have to know what she looks like to ensure she sits at my table if I signal her over.

  “Angie,” he sighs, running his hand through his chestnut hair. “She’s uh, a preppy bitch for better lack of words. You know her.”

  “I do?” I try to rack my brain of all the Angie’s I might know, but I can’t think of any.

  “Yeah, she was a couple of years younger than us in high school. She was a cheerleader and…”

  “Had a crush on you! I remember her now!”

  “That’s the one.”

  “So are you and her…together?”

  I almost slapped myself as soon as the words left my mouth. Why did I say that? It’s not like I’m interested. I have Trent. Right?

  “No,” his jaw tightens as he looks at me. “Our relationship is strictly business. She might be our other big player, but it took me a long time to hand her those reigns, and that was only because JJ quit.”

  “Why did he quit?”

  I know I shouldn’t have asked the question, but I need to know—even if I don’t like the answ
er.

  “Let’s just say that he got spooked. I couldn’t convince him to stay, and the rest is history.”

  A long silence fills the car, and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

  “Wait a minute!” I break the silence. “How did I end up in your shirt when I woke up? I meant to ask you, but you kind of got me side-tracked when we started talking about playing cards tonight.”

  “You were drunk. So drunk that you threw up just moments after I helped you out of your dress. You were crying about not wanting to ruin it because you’d never be able to resell it; something about an online thrift store? I don’t know. You were pretty trashed. There was nothing for you to wear, so I gave you my shirt.”

  I smile at his kind words. Now that is a true gentleman, but it’s totally not Zack. He fucks anything with a pulse. At least he used to anyway.

  “But weren’t you wearing a shirt at the hotel? I could have sworn you were wearing a t-shirt.”

  He nods as we pull into a parking space. “Yep. I was. I like to wear these old V-neck tees under my dress shirts. I’ve done it—”

  “Ever since you were a kid,” I finish his sentence. “I forgot about that until now,” I laugh.

  It’s kind of weird how we can finish each other’s sentences, but I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve always been so close. But we’ve spent so much time apart. Surely, he’s changed. I know I have. Haven’t I?

  “Look, I’ll let you go in and then I’ll join you in about ten minutes.”

  “Why?” I ask, nervous about going alone. Even though I was here last night, I don’t remember a thing about it, and I feel scared. Like it’s my first time, and they won’t like an outsider.

  “So we don’t tip them off that we’re here together. Last night, I pretended not to know you at all, which worked well in my favor since you were all over me. They thought that we were complete strangers. When the cards cool, you’ll give me your signal, and then you leave. I’ll follow shortly behind you.”

  His phone rings, breaking the bit of silence that’s in the car. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses the button to silence the call.