Truth or Dare

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  “I’m not following you. I thought this Ray was a piece of shit.”

  “Yeah, I did, too. But that was because I refused to look closely enough to see it wasn’t true. I didn’t want to consider that Gina might be lying—even though I know firsthand that’s what she does—because I didn’t want to give up my hope of getting my boy back. Nothing mattered to me more than being able to keep the promise I made to Charlie to protect him, even from his own self-serving parents. Even when it meant signing on to a lifetime of being used by one of them. I didn’t think Ray actually wanted Charlie. I didn’t think he loved him. But Mitch, this guy—I found Ray’s fan page for his shitty band. And it’s—” He took a deep breath, his chest suddenly painfully tight again. “It’s all Charlie. Every day, there’s some new picture or video of my boy—his boy—laughing, riding his shoulders, wearing earplugs while he runs onstage during a show. Happy. It’s all about Ray’s love affair with being a dad. The wonder in the small things. The way Charlie looks at the sky, the grass, a bug. How Ray thinks he’s got a pitching arm on him already, but he can see the kid’s got an ear for music. There are poems, Mitch.”

  “Aww man, I know that’s good, really good.” His brother met his eyes, understanding deep in his own. “But are you okay?”

  Tyler could still feel the ache in his chest, but looking at his brother, he answered honestly. “It hurts like a motherfucker…but, yeah, I think I finally am.”

  “That’s good. About the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  Something about the look on Mitch’s face—something too weary for the guy’s twenty-six years—made Tyler stop. “Everything okay with you?”

  He’d been so wrapped up in his own shit, he hadn’t exactly had his finger on the pulse of the rest of the family.

  Mitch’s head popped up, that devilish smile firmly back in place. “Hell, yeah. Except maybe I better start looking for a new place if you’re moving back. Not that I mind—to Hell with that, I totally mind. You’ve got a sweet pad, and it’s going to blow to give it up. But for you, I guess I will. Unless you want a roommate, which would be totally cool with me.”

  Tyler laughed at his brother’s classic ping-ponging train of thought.

  New York. He loved it. Had always thought of it as home, or at least he had until this last year. Now…

  He saw Maggie standing up at her second-floor window, flipping him off with her snack food. Smiling at him from behind her tray of cookies. Peering up at him from his pillow as her fingers sifted through the mess of his hair. Laughing in that way that made him feel alive.

  “I met this woman. She’s—she’s everything, Mitch.”

  His brother grinned. “A girl? Ty, you sly dog, you! When? How? Details, man.”

  Jesus, his brother! “Keep your towel on, Mitchell.”

  Tyler laughed, stretching back in his chair. When? From the first smile. How? Slowly. Details…fuck that, this wasn’t high school.

  “Her name’s Maggie. But it’s complicated.”

  “How? Gina married that singer. It’s time for you to move on with your life. And Maggie’s…everything.”

  “Yeah, and she deserves everything, too. More than some guy who can’t get past his past even if he’s finally accepted it won’t be his future. Hell, I want her. But I just need to make sure I’ve got my head together before I go back. Before I ask her to give me another shot.”

  Mitch was nodding, his grin lighting up the room. “So what you’re saying is, I get to keep the apartment.”

  Tyler grinned right back. “Yeah, and your rent’s going up.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  It had been a week since Tyler’s predawn goodbye, and seven days had never passed so slowly in all of Maggie’s life.

  Tyler texted a few times. Once to tell her he was thinking about her. Once to tell her it was good to be home. And once to send her a picture of the pie from his favorite pizzeria—that last being her favorite of the three for the simple fact that it was lighthearted, and a lighter heart was what she wanted most for Tyler.

  And between those few communications, Maggie pushed forward with her life. Clocking her hours at work. Visiting different gallery districts around the city, getting a sense of the neighborhoods and, when she was able to make it during business hours, stopping in to talk with anyone available. Her years managing The Shrone had garnered extensive contacts, and she was using them to expand her information base while she rebuilt her own life plan.

  Only every time she stopped moving, her thoughts inevitably drifted to Tyler. To the taste of his kiss and the rough texture of his words as he told her he’d wanted her from the start. The beating of his heart beneath her cheek. And the half-grin there through all of those unspoken moments when their eyes would meet, and it was like the rest of the world ceased to exist. The connection that had caught her by surprise, scaring her at first, but had somehow taken root deep in her heart.

  She wondered how he was.

  How New York fit after he’d spent so much time in Chicago. If he was coming back or if he’d rather leave the bad memories behind.

  God, it hurt to even think about him saying goodbye. She could see so much with him. All the things she’d sworn off with Kyle, she wanted with Tyler. Because with him it would be different. If he decided to stay. And if he still wanted her.

  “Yo, Maggie!”

  Her head popped up to where Tony was standing by the walk to her building, a twelve-pack of beer tucked under one arm. “You coming or going?”

  Cripes, she must look like a complete idiot standing by her open car door for the last however long. She hiked her bag over her shoulder and locked up.

  “Hi, Tony. Here for the game?”

  “You know it.” Holding the gate open, he gave her a nod. “Sticking around?”

  It had been a long day, and the way her thoughts kept circling back to Tyler, she’d probably make crappy company and didn’t want to have to explain her angsty mood to the guys. But she’d made cookies last night, and sitting home alone mowing down an entire batch she’d baked to share was a low she wasn’t ready to revisit. “For a few minutes. But I’m pretty whipped.”

  Inside, Tony headed straight for Ford’s, bellowing about the party starting and offering up a few whoop-whoops, as Maggie headed up to her place to drop her coat and get the snickerdoodles. Checking her phone, she didn’t let it get to her that the only messages were Ava with a picture of a corn chip that looked like a sailboat, and some forward from Tony with an attachment she’d never open, having learned from the last time.

  Telling herself to suck it up and stop pining over Tyler, she took the stairs down to Ford’s and, juggling the tray, let herself in. She’d hear from him when she heard from him. And until then—

  “They’re cookies, not a keg, for crissakes. She can manage.”

  She had Tony, charming as ever, and the guys.

  “No worries,” she called down to the kitchen where the guys had stationed themselves. “He’s right. I made it without a single casualty.”

  There were a few minutes before the game started, but then they’d all be out in the living room, so she set the tray on the coffee table in front of the TV and peeled back the wrap as her friends called out one after the other from the other side of the apartment.

  “Way to go, babe.” Sam, somehow making it sound like a proposition.

  “Never doubted you.” Tony, invariably jerking his air dick.

  “Want a beer or something?” Ford, polite and typically distracted.

  “Maggie.” Tyler. Low and gruff and so shockingly close, she nearly tripped in her haste to turn around and see if he was real. Really there.

  “You okay?” he asked, fingertips trailing down her arm until he caught her hand in the loose hold of his own.

  She was nodding. And then she realized she was nodding too fast, totally sabotaging any chance for a cool, measured response, but all she could think was Tyler was there, in front of her, holding her ha
nd.

  Her heart was pounding, her skin warm from their proximity alone. He was back. There were a million questions she wanted to ask—how he was coping, whether he’d heard anything else from Gina, if he planned to stay, whether he’d thought of her—but with their friends in the next room and probably headed this way already, she settled for the most innocuous.

  “When did you get in?”

  “Maybe an hour ago. Ran into Ford and he said you’d be here.” His brows drew down into a small scowl. “My brother dropped my phone in the sink, or I’d have texted to let you know I was on my way.”

  And then she was wrapped in Tyler’s arms and that deep voice was rumbling into her hair. “God, I missed you, Maggie.”

  She tried to answer, but her throat was too tight, her chest too full, and what could she say that would be enough?

  Instead, she closed her eyes and tucked her head against his heart. After a moment, she managed a thick “You, too.”

  Cupping her jaw, he tipped her face to his. She shouldn’t have looked into his eyes. She’d had a chance of holding herself together despite the way her pulse thundered through her veins. But when their eyes met, when they were this close, when she could feel the heat of his body and his breath in her hair…the part of her that held her defenses in place and kept whispering that she still had no idea what his plans were crumbled, and all she wanted was to fall into the pull of him.

  So what if he wasn’t staying. Would it be better to hold her heart in check and miss out on what might be the last hours she had to be with him? No, she didn’t care if she was being reckless with her heart. She wanted him.

  Whatever time there was left, she wanted the chance to be with Tyler again.

  At the sound of the guys coming down the hall, Maggie jumped back like she’d caught fire, and brushed herself off like there was any chance of putting out the embers still burning between them.

  Because knowing she was inviting heartbreak upon herself was one thing; offering up ringside seats for the carnage was something totally different.

  Seeing her reaction, Tyler took a step back, too, then, thinking better of it, leaned in again, bypassing her so he could snag a cookie.

  Sam rounded the corner first, looking back at Ford as he did. “So what, two large sausage and mushrooms going to be enough, or are you thinking more?”

  Maggie backed around the coffee table, avoiding eye contact with the lot of them. “None for me, guys. I wanted to drop the cookies off, but I’m burnt. Think I’ll just see you guys tomorrow.”

  Tyler was making his own excuses as she let herself out. And then he was following behind as she climbed the stairs, not looking back. Not saying a word. Just putting one foot in front of the next, turning the corner, and reaching for her door.

  They’d talk. She’d ask about his trip. About how he was doing.

  He’d tell her his plans.

  And once she knew where they stood, what she was in for—she’d position her defenses as necessary and haul him into bed.

  But then Tyler was there, one hand settled over the small of her back while the other covered hers at the doorknob.

  Her head turned.

  Their eyes met.

  And that was it.

  He gripped her waist, spinning her into a crushing kiss so hot it surged through her veins, washing away her questions and worries. Giving her belly that lost-at-sea feeling that had her clinging tighter to the only anchor she wanted. Pulling him closer, pleading for more, and moaning around the thrust of his tongue when he gave it to her.

  His arms banded tight around her, one hand moving up into her hair while the other crossed over her ass in a hold that somehow managed to beg and demand all at once.

  Tyler’s mouth moved over her jaw and down her neck, his lips pulling, teeth scraping, the rumble of his mindless words vibrating against the sensitive skin where they fell.

  They worked buttons and opened belts, peeled shirts and toed off shoes. With a flick, her bra was free, ending the breadcrumb trail of seduction down the hardwood of her hallway.

  Then Tyler had her on the bed, knees together so he could slide her panties down her thighs and off her feet. Shedding his own underwear, he stood at the foot of her bed, eyes hungrily running the length of her naked body.

  “So pretty.”

  For some reason the way he called her pretty, rather than beautiful or gorgeous or sexy, warmed her heart and made it beat faster. Made it ache with tenderness even as she burned with need.

  But it was always like that with Tyler. From the first interaction, there’d been more than one emotion at play. Attraction and animosity. Frustration and fury. He made her want to laugh as much as he made her want to trip him down the stairs.

  And now as much as she wanted him to fuck her hard and fast, use her body and let her use his, she also wanted the sweetness. The friendship.

  That stealthy connection she hadn’t seen coming until it was too strong to break.

  He rolled on a condom, and the way his hand looked sliding over his shaft—it made her wild. Thighs shifting together in restless anticipation, she urged, “Hurry.”

  One dark, masculine brow pushed up. “What if I wanted to go slow with you?”

  “That’s a bad idea.” She was breathless and squirming, the movement of her body only increasing her need. “Terrible. Next time, maybe.”

  Please let there be a next time.

  “Not slow? Okay, then,” he said, realigning their bodies so all that hard length was positioned between her legs. “Tell me what you want.”

  He’d just agreed not to go slow, but it was with painstakingly measured pace he began to slide forward through her folds, setting every nerve ending to tingle and burn through the slick, wet friction that seemed to go on and on—oh God—and on.

  Oh yeah, and if that wasn’t the most smug, self-satisfied hint of a smile on his lips she’d ever seen. But she couldn’t think too much about it, because he’d begun to reverse his course, dragging that heavy shaft along its return path, riding slowly against the sweet spot that was making her stupid.

  She had something to say; she knew she did. Only the feel of him there, teasing her, rubbing her…it blanked her mind of anything beyond the fast-rising pleasure.

  Tyler braced himself on one arm, allowing his hand to run from her hip over her waist and ribs up to cup her breast. His palm pressed upward as his thumb tormented her nipple with deft strokes that mingled with that decadent friction between her legs—stealing her breath, holding her captive beneath his seductive assault.

  “Tell me, Maggie.”

  So slow.

  So good.

  “P-Please…Tyler…”

  So close.

  “Please, what?” he asked, his own words coming harsh as he slid forward and back.

  Then, notching himself at her opening, he met her eyes. “Tell me what you want, Maggie. I want to hear you say it.”

  She was lost. The words pushing past her lips without thought or restraint.

  “You!” she cried, the teasing pressure too much to bear. “Please, Tyler, oh God, please. I want you inside—”

  Thick and hard, he gave her what she’d asked for.

  The breath burst from her lungs, his name breaking on her lips, as he filled her past capacity, the sensual strain so intense, for one terrifying moment she was pulled beneath the surface of control, swamped by a sensation so great it overwhelmed her in every way. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only experience the rush as she hurtled toward climax, bursting through in a dizzying spiral of pleasure. Pleasure that went on and on through each hard thrust, until she realized there was no end in sight. Tyler already had her halfway to coming again.

  “Like that?” he growled, sliding in and out.

  “Yes.”

  His hand caught the curve of her ass, tipping her up to allow just that much more penetration.

  So deep. So hard.

  Her eyes clenched shut.

&nbs
p; “Look at me, Maggie.” He stilled, holding her in place, in this unbearable point of suspension until she met his stare. He sank home.

  Free fall.

  Her body clamped hard around his, spasming with each thrust, as wave after wave washed over her. And when the pleasure was little more than a gentle lap, a wash of lingering sensation, only then did his steady strokes turn faster.

  Urgency drove his movements until sweat dripped from his temples and the muscles along his neck stood out in stark relief. His hips slammed down and with a last ragged curse that, tangled with her name, somehow sounded tender, he followed her into bliss.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Once he’d dealt with the condom, Tyler climbed back beneath the covers, pulling Maggie blissfully close. Propped on his elbow, he looked down into her face. “I meant for us to talk first.”

  “Me, too. But then I couldn’t wait,” she admitted. “And I realized no matter what you said, I wanted this. So what was the harm in talking after?”

  “I missed you.”

  He’d told her the same back at Ford’s place, but the way he said it this time—her heart did a little flip in her chest, and she stroked the evening-rough line of his jaw. “I missed you, too. But it was good, right? Going home?”

  “Yeah, it was good. My family…it’s been hard for them. So to finally know—” He let out a slow breath. “There was some relief in that. For all of us. So it was good, and in a messed up way, that might have been the worst part. Feeling like I could breathe and knowing that even though I didn’t get Charlie back, that I couldn’t give him what I believed he needed—at least it was over.”