The Dare Read Online Free PDF Page B

delightful
afternoon!
    "I'm running out of patience."
    "And I'm running out of lipstick. So what
else is new? Tell you what," Grandma leaned forward, "I'll make a
bet with you."
    "I don't gamble, ma'am."
    "Well maybe," Grandma tapped her fingernails
against the table, "it's time you did."
     
    Beth
     
    Grandma approached, only this time she wasn't
wearing the catsuit. Somehow she'd changed into Victoria's Secret
sweats and had magically appeared out of thin air.
    "Let's go." Grandma grabbed Beth's hand.
    "No." Jace stood his ground. "Listen, I
appreciate the, uh, help, Grandma, but I'm going to go at it alone,
alright? This is my home. I'm not going inside the airport only to
be tricked into boarding a plane for Vegas and getting married. I'm
not going to be part of your schemes, and I'm sure as hell not
going to allow myself to be manipulated. I saw what you did to
Jake. Hell, I participated. Not this time, Grandma."
    "You're certain?" Grandma asked, a warm smile
spreading across her wrinkled but pretty face.
    "Yes."
    "Fine." Grandma pulled out her cell and
texted something then slipped it back into her purse. "Let's get a
Starbucks. Beth, how would you like something warm to drink?
Grandma will even slip in a bit of the vodka."
    Going with Grandma meant getting away from
Jace; it also meant drinking at 7:00 a.m. But who was I to judge? I
looped my arm in hers and followed her into the airport.
    Out of curiosity, and I swear it was nothing
more than that, I turned and stole one last glance at my one-night
stand also known as Thor or Mr. Senator. He was looking directly at
me, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. I wanted to run back.
But more than anything, I wanted to remember what it felt like to
have his lips on mine, because the memory from high school wasn't
enough. He'd been young, and years had a way of doing that to
people. Ripping away the memories of a person until all you
remember is the slightest of touches and how that one touch changed
you forever.
    That one touch had destroyed my idea of what
a kiss should feel like. It took the movie-star and romance-novel
kiss and turned it into something suddenly achievable. In ten
minutes, Jace had taken my expectations and put them on a level
that no man would ever meet.
    He'd made me want to wait for the prince or
the white knight. And every year that he'd been a no show, I'd
collapsed a little more into myself. Because unlike other women, I
knew it was possible. I'd experienced both the save and the kiss
that followed, and even though I'd been only eighteen, it had
stayed with me.
    Hanging by a thread.
    I hoped that this would banish the curse he'd
put on me since my senior year. See? Look Beth? He's not perfect.
If I looked really close I could see a slight limp, and I could
have sworn there was a tiny scar by his eyebrow., And let's not
forget that he probably has gas problems and halitosis.
    I squeezed my eyes shut. I was going to give
him a damn incurable disease if it was the last thing I did! He
needed to be gone, so I could either move on with my own Prince
Charming or adopt Charlie, the calico cat.
    If I didn't hurry up and get over him and
over the fantasy I'd created, I was going to turn into one of those
creepy girls who stalks celebrities and tries on all their clothes
and jewelry, convincing themselves that they're in a serious
relationship.
    I wasn't going to be one of those girls.
    I refused to be Warren Bates.
    So I kept walking.
    And I didn't turn around again.
    Not even when my entire body felt like it was
shaking from the desire to do so.
    My stomach clenched. Was it so wrong to want
the fairytale? What was so bad about striving for more? Was I being
punished for wanting the knight in shining armor to actually have a
soul? Most men I'd met were either so shy they cried when I said hi
or so boring that I did formulas in my head. The really
good-looking ones? Well, they acted a lot like Char's new husband,
Jake. Granted, he'd cured his own whorish