My temperature only grew as he threw me a wink.
Definitely not a saint, I thought.
When lunch came, I was ready to kick back and relax, hopefully lose myself in the book I'd brought to school. But before I could even open it, Tyson sat next to me and started talking.
"Hey Viola," Ty said. "I wanted to speak to you."
"Okay," I said.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "This may be hard for you to believe. But I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with that video. I'd never do something like that, leak our personal business and try to embarrass you."
I nodded. "I know—"
"And I see now that I may have been a little harsh," he went on. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. That wasn't my intention. At all."
"I know, Ty," I said.
"You do?" he asked.
"Yeah." I gave his hand a pat. "I know what kind of person you are. We're okay."
Tyson seemed to exhale for the first time since he sat down.
"Oh good," he said and gave me a smile. "I just didn't want you to think I was a douchebag or something."
"Well, you are friends with Dare," I said.
As I'd intended, Tyson let out a laugh. Dare walked over and sat down a second later.
"What are you two smiling about?" Dare asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," I said as Tyson bit back a grin.
"Sorry you got stuck taking this one"—Tyson hooked his thumb at Dare—"to school every day. He's my best friend, but even I know he can be a handful."
"Hey!" Dare protested, but I spoke over him.
"True. He can be a little much."
Dare looked between the two of us.
"You guys suck, and if I wasn't so hungry I'd expand on that," he said then dug into his food.
Tyson scooted closer and said, "He's really not so bad, you know."
No, he's not, I thought, wondering why Tyson, the guy who I'd thought I was in love with, could whisper in my ear, and it did nothing. But even as Dare glared my way, I felt a rush of butterflies in my stomach.
I chalked it up to bad cafeteria food.
#
Viola, come see me in my office before you leave.
Seeing those words in a text message from my dad had me on high alert. It had been a day. I was more than eager to go to the shelter, visit with the animals and then head home. But now, my father wanted a word. Honestly, it was worse than getting called to the principal's office. Me and Principal Hogan were on great terms. She was a Potterhead like me, Ravenclaw through and through, and, we got along beautifully.
I wished it were her door I was standing at right now.
Dad was sitting at his desk, going over some papers, when I arrived. I knocked on the open door, and he looked up, smiling when he saw it was me.
"Hey Viola," he said, "you know you don't have to knock. You can always come in no matter what."
"Hi, Dad," I said.
"Come in, come in." He gestured me forward. "This won't take long. There was just something I wanted to discuss with you."
I walked to one of the visitor's chairs and sat while Dad came around the desk and took the chair opposite me.
"So how's your day been?" he asked.
My eyebrows rose. What a loaded question. "Not the best, but I guess it could've been worse," I said. "How about you?"
"Eh, nothing out of the norm. You want to talk about anything?"
"Not really," I said.
Dad sighed. "I heard what happened, Vi."
"Oh."
A nod. "And I want you to know it's going to be okay."
"What is?" I said tentatively. So much had happened today that it was impossible to tell what he was talking about.
"Maybe it was stupid of me to think you couldn't like one of my players," he said, speaking more to himself than to me. "But in my head, you'll always be my baby. I can't believe I didn't see it before."
He laughed, but I stayed silent, waiting to see where this was going.
"You should be cautious, though. He may seem like a nice boy. But most guys that age aren't real reliable."
I crossed my arms. "I bet Mom would disagree. She always said you were her One, the person she could trust with anything, even back in high school. Before that even."
Dad smiled. "Well, there are exceptions to every rule."
His expression sobered a moment later.
"But seriously, Viola," he said. "I get it. He's good-looking, smart, athletic."
And he knows it, I thought.
"He's a great player and all-around nice guy."
I had to laugh at that. "Dare? Nice? I'm not sure he'd like being called that, Dad."
His brow furrowed. "Frost? Who said anything about him?"
My eyes widened at my faux pas. "Ah, well, what are you talking about?"
"Your video with Tyson," he said.
"Oh…that," I said.
"Yeah"—Dad ran a hand through his hair—"that. I figured you'd be pretty down about it and wanted to catch you before you went home and spilled all your secrets to your mother. I get that you two have a connection, and that's great. But I love you, too, you know. You can always talk to me."
My throat closed up with unshed tears.
It had really been a day, and for some reason, his words got to me.
"Thanks, Dad," I said. "That means a lot."
"No problem." His mouth quirked up. "And hey, how are things with you and Dare going? You two getting along?"
"Yeah," I said carefully, "we are. Why? Did you hear something?"
My father waved that off. "Ah, there's always weird gossip going around. I don't put much stock in it."
So he had heard about Dare and me but completely dismissed the idea.
I didn't know if I was relieved or upset about that fact.
"He even gave me his shirt today, so I wouldn't have to walk around in the same one I wore in the video," I put in and waited for his reaction.
"Oh, I thought I recognized that shirt," he said.
"Yeah, Mrs. Clemmons walked in right after he gave it to me."
"Well, isn't that nice," he said, sitting back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin. The logistics of how Dare and I would've exchanged shirts never even seemed to cross his mind. "Sounds like you two are friends now. Who would've thought, huh?"
Who, indeed?
"Is there anything you wanted to tell me?" I asked, giving him a chance to come clean, hoping he would.
But Dad shook his head. "Nope, I think I'm good."
Of course, he was, I thought. His "friend" plan seemed to be working like a dream, and as far as he knew, I was none the wiser.
I sighed, told Dad I loved him and left his office, wondering what he would've said if he knew I'd been shirtless in the same room with a shirtless Dare Frost. My father was wrong. I couldn't talk to him or Mom, at least not about this. There were just some things you didn't discuss with the parents. It was a good thing I knew someone who would listen.
#
"I'm telling you, Hermione," I said while brushing her thick fur. "Between one breath and the next, bam! His shirt was gone, and I couldn't tear my eyes away."
Hermione chuffed like she totally understood my dilemma.
"I can't even say I minded it much, you know?"
I petted her between brushes, a soothing gesture for both of us.
"I mean, Dare had agreed earlier to be my fake boyfriend, and it was so decent of him to try and help me after the video. Plus, he is beautiful. Glorious even. His shoulders are sculpted, and he has that muscle that leads from the neck down to the shoulders. And don't even get me started on his V. I think they call them obliques? But Dare's should just be called sexy."
Hermione rested her head against my shoulder, and I sighed.
"My first thought was: Thank you, soccer."
I looked down, meeting her dark brown eyes.
"I couldn't even get angry with him when I realized he saw me change—though I w
as embarrassed for sure. Do you think that's stupid?"
In answer, she licked my nose, making me smile.
"See? I knew you'd understand," I said.
Paris came into the back then. "Well, this sounds interesting," she said. "If you need any guy advice, I'm here for you, Vi."
"Yes, please," I said, leading Hermione back into her cage, giving Professor Snape a quick scratch. I'd already done him and all of the other dogs, but I'd intentionally saved my girl for last. I headed over to stand next to Paris. "I'd love some advice."
"Guys are unpredictable," she said. "Especially ones like Dare."
I nodded. "That sounds right. I can't get a good read on him."
"Did I hear you mention something about a fake boyfriend?"
My eyes narrowed on my boss. "Exactly how long were you standing out there?"
"Oh come on," she said with a laugh. "Can you blame me for listening? You always share your best stuff with the animals. This just saves you from having to repeat the story to me."
I shook my head.
"Sooo?" She moved her hand in and go-ahead gesture. "Out with it. What's all this fake stuff about?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me," she said.
Crossing my arms, I arched a brow. "I need Dare to pretend to be my boyfriend to get revenge on my dad, who hired him to be my friend without my knowledge."
Paris blinked.
And blinked again.
After the third blink, I said, "Paris? You okay there?"
"Yeah," she said then shook herself, "I just…wow. Your dad really did that? What the what, Viola?"
"I know," I said. "And I'm glad to have you and the shelter since I can't talk to my mom."
"Why not?" Paris asked.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the stress there. "Well, I thought about it. My mom and I, we're soul sisters. She gets me on another level, unlike my dad. He did this truly thinking he would be helping. But if Mom were involved…I think it would hurt. Because we're so similar, and she would've known how against it I would be. You know?"
"Yeah, I can see that," she said. "So, Dare agreed to help you. That was cool of him."
"Yep—though I may have used a tiny bit of blackmail."
"Whoa," Paris said, sounding impressed. "You really are a Slytherin, huh?"
"You know it," I said, throwing Professor Snape a wink which he ignored. Moving my eyes to Hermione, I blew her a kiss, and she barked. "Though I'm just as much a Gryffindor. I don't want to hurt my dad. Just have the courage to stand up for myself."
"So, what's your next step?"
I told Paris my plan, and by the end, we were both grinning. Before I left, I took a few of the dogs out one last time and made sure all of the bowls had fresh water. I said goodbye to Hermione and Professor Snape. Paris told me good luck. And then I drove home, ready to shower, eat and go to bed.
And more than ready to set my plan in motion.
CHAPTER 10
"Alright," Dare said, coming out of the locker room in his practice clothes. He stopped in front of me. "You said to meet you here after school, though you wouldn't say why. No matter how many times I asked," he tacked on.
He was right.
I'd kept everything up until this point very close to the chest, for fear that I'd jinx it. On the drive to school and then throughout the day, Dare kept pelting me with questions, but I wouldn't crack. After study hall, I told him where and when to meet me. He'd scoffed, and I wasn't sure he'd come. But here we were, back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. This was where I'd delivered my confession to Ty. And this was where I would start fresh.
"Well, I showed," he said. "Half the team's already warming up. Practice is about to start, flower, so will you finally tell me what we're doing?"
I tried to sound nonchalant. "Time for phase two," I said.
His smile was bright. "Ah, so there is a phase two. I was starting to wonder."
"Yes," I said with a sniff. "There is. Dad's about to come out, and I thought this would be the perfect place for us to 'get caught'."
Dare's smile faltered. "This isn't going to get me benched, right?"
I sliced my hand across my chest. "No way."
"Good." He seemed to let out a breath. "We have a big game coming up against Mount Tabor, and I can't be out of commission. Don't want to let the team down."
I nodded. "No worries, it'll all be good. The first step is just to make Dad suspicious that there may be something going on. I'll deny it—as any girl with a secret would—but hopefully it will be enough to plant the seed in his mind."
I'd thought about it and decided that the reason Dad dismissed the gossip yesterday was because he hadn't been there. This time Dare and I would give him proof that something was going on. Seeing was believing after all.
"Before that, though, I need something from you."
"Oh?" Dare asked. "What is it now? A lung, kidney, my heart on a silver platter?"
I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, must you be so dramatic?"
"Says the girl who's enacting a revenge plot against her father."
Touché, I thought.
"No, it's not an organ or anything," I said. "I just realized we may need to call each other at some point—and I have no way of reaching you."
He arched a brow, waiting.
"It would be good if we could communicate somehow. Don't you think?"
Dare looked amused, and I felt like dying.
"Are you asking for my number, flower?" he said.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, I guess."
"Okay," he said like it wasn't a big deal.
I exhaled in relief as he held out his hand for my phone. After I gave it to him, he quickly entered his info then passed it back. That smile of his never dimmed, and when I looked down, I saw why.
"Thank you," I said and then checked my phone. "Secret Boyfriend? That's what you put as your contact name?"
Dare shrugged. "I figured 'Hot Soccer Playing Fake Boyfriend' would be too long."
I bit back a laugh, but in my head, I knew I'd probably change it later.
"'Dare' or 'Frost' would've worked just fine," I said.
He snapped his fingers. "Shoot, why didn't I think of that?"
My brow furrowed a moment later. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask. What's your real name?"
He pushed his hands into his pockets. "You already know it," he said. "Why?"
"No, your real name," I repeated. "Is Dare short for something? I figured it was. Like Darius or Derek or something?"
"Nope," Dare said, averting his gaze. "That's it. That's my name."
I gazed at him and the way he was studiously not looking at me.
"I can tell you're lying," I said.
Dare scoffed. "Sure, you can."
I pointed to his face. "You haven't been able to meet my eyes since I asked the question, and your cheeks are redder than they were a second ago. My only conclusion is that your name must be pretty embarrassing."
Dare lifted his chin, and his gaze fixed on mine. "Leave it, flower."
"But I thought we were friends," I said.
"Not that good of friends," he muttered.
"Aha," I said. "I knew it. You can trust me, Dare. I won't tell anyone."
Dare studied me a moment. Finally he said, "I'll think about it."
"Sounds good," I said—then unable to help myself, "Is it Darrence?"
"Viola," he said flatly.
"Daylor? Darwin? Darvey?"
Dare shook his head. "You're impossible."
"Dart?" I tried.
At that, he laughed. "Good one," he said. "But no."
My lips pursed at the puzzle before me. Before I could figure it out, I heard footsteps followed by the sound of my dad's voice. He was coming this way. Oh goodness, here we go. I looked to Dare and found him staring back at me with a smile.
"Whatever I do right now, it's all for the revenge plot," I said. "I just wan
ted to make sure that's clear."
Dare chuckled under his breath then lifted his chin. "Okay. Make your move, flower. I'll follow your lead."
I took a deep breath, and then acted without thought. After all, if I thought too much about it, there was no way I'd go through with this. Putting my hands on Dare's shoulders, I pushed him until his back met the wall, trying and failing not to take in the breadth and strength I felt beneath my palms. In the same moment, I hopped up and wrapped my legs around his waist—or at least, I tried to. Dare hadn't expected that. With his delayed reaction, his palm caught one of my legs while I ended up sliding back down his body, plastered against his chest like a baby koala. Ugh.
His brows rose. "This is your plan?" he said, his face so close to mine. "You want Coach to find us like this?"
"No," I hissed, pulling back a bit so I could look him in the eye. "I wanted him to find me in your arms. But unfortunately, you foiled my plans when you didn't catch me."
Dare's eyes went wide. "How was I supposed to know to catch you?"
"It was obvious what I was doing," I said.
"It wasn't," Dare argued. "Did I miss something? Did you say you were going to jump me, send the thought through telepathy?"
I huffed, the movement making me aware all at once of every single place we touched. Dare seemed to realize it at the same time I did. He cleared his throat.
"So," he said, "what now?"
"Now, we wait," I said.
"Cool," Dare said. "I'm good with waiting."
His hand flexed against my thigh—yes, he was still holding my leg for some reason—and I gasped at the feel of it, the warmth of his palm seeping right through my jeans into my skin.
"You okay?" he asked.
Before I could answer—or faint—my father appeared.
"Viola," he called out. It took me a few moments to disentangle myself. Fainting became a real possibility again as Dare's hand trailed down my leg, but once we were standing a good distance apart, my father had sidled up next to us. "Frost. What are you two doing?"
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