“Why did you kiss me?”
His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath, and for a moment I don’t think he’s going to answer…
But then he does.
“Because I wanted to.”
Little tingles shoot up my spine and I press my legs together.
Phoenix wanted to kiss me.
Thank God I’m buzzed because I have no idea how to fully process the magnitude of that.
He tosses his cigarette into his cup and it hisses. “Truth or dare?”
I don’t want him to ask me what’s on my body, so I say, “Dare.”
It feels like he’s spearing my soul with a dull knife when he utters his next statement. “Show me the ink on your upper thigh.”
My lips part on a shaky inhale. Clearly, I’m the one who’s slow on the uptake because he just one-upped me. Big time.
I can’t do this. I can’t.
But I have to. Because something tells me he won’t let me squeak out of this.
I hate to say it, but the fact Phoenix has difficulty reading is a major bonus for me right now.
My legs feel like rubber as I stand. “Okay.”
I go to move the T-shirt up, but Phoenix beats me to it. The second he touches me, I grow light-headed.
Frustration creeps over his features as he tries to decipher the three words on my upper thighs.
I’m about to tell him his time is up, but then he shifts off the couch and moves closer, inspecting the ink.
He brushes over one of the words. The contrast of his calloused finger and gentle touch sends heat between my legs.
“Fat.”
My heart thuds against my ribs.
Brows furrowing, he reads another. “Pig.” Anger colors his tone as he utters the last one visible to him. “Fat ass.”
Bringing his thumb to his mouth, he wets it…then rubs it over one of the words, trying to erase it.
But he can’t. Not that easily anyway. “It’s permanent marker.”
“Why…” The line between his brows grows deeper and his voice drops to a faint rasp. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
Because it’s what I am.
What everyone sees me as.
Blinking back tears, I move his hand away. “You can’t ask a question unless I pick truth. Plus, it’s my turn.” I sit back down on the couch. “Truth or dare?”
A muscle in his jaw bunches. “Dare.”
My chest feels like it’s been cracked open, exposing my darkest secrets. I’ve never felt more vulnerable in my whole entire life.
I think it’s only fair that he lets me see his secret.
“Show me where you live.”
He looks at me like I’m certifiable. “No—”
“I just showed you something no one else knows about. Something incredibly personal and private.” Something that almost broke me. “The least you can do is show me the trailer you live in.”
Even though it’s clear he doesn’t want to, he caves. “Fine.” He digs his keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”
Dirt and gravel crunch under the tires of Phoenix’s Toyota as he drives through Bayview.
After making a quick right, we pass a line of run-down trailers, each one shoddier than the last.
My stomach bottoms out when he pulls to a stop in front of the worst one at the very end.
The small trailer is so rusty and dingy I can’t even make out what the color of it once was. There’s a small staircase at the entrance, but it—along with the roof—are so dilapidated it borders on unsafe.
This place is so awful it makes Eminem’s trailer in 8 Mile look like a luxury home.
I don’t mean that in a judgmental way…I’m just sad.
No one deserves to live like this.
“We’re not going inside,” Phoenix grits out.
“We don’t have to.”
Jaw working, he glares at the trailer, then at me. “Get your fill yet, princess?”
His comment stings like a slap. “I didn’t ask you to take me here to be mean and make you feel like shit. I asked because I wanted to know more about you.” I scowl at him. “Same reason you asked to see what I write on my body.”
He has no argument for that because he goes silent.
Hoping to change the subject, I shift in my seat to face him. “It’s your turn.”
His low voice fills the space between us. “Truth or dare?”
I don’t want him to ask me why I write the things I do on myself—because then he’ll know it’s all a ruse and I’m not even half as strong as I pretend to be—so once again, I make the same decision as before.
“Dare.”
Tilting his head, he holds my gaze. Those icy-blue eyes pierce through me like a burning arrow. “I dare you to give me a blow job.”
Wait…what?
I search his face for signs he’s joking, but there are none.
My mind spins and it has nothing to do with the alcohol I consumed. Despite me telling him otherwise, I’ve never done it before.
I also don’t want my first sexual experience to take place because of a dare. I might not have the greatest self-esteem, but I deserve more than that.
“I…uh…”
Phoenix starts laughing like I just said something hilarious. “You should see your face right now. I’m just fucking with you.” He starts the engine. “Let’s grab some food and head back to Storm’s.”
I have an out. I should take it.
A weird twinge of disappointment hits me square in the chest. If this was any other guy, I’d be relieved…but it’s not.
It’s Phoenix.
And dare or no dare…this might be my only chance to be that girl.
The one who gets the guy.
Even though it’s just for tonight.
I place my hand on top of his when he shifts into reverse. “I can’t do it while you’re driving.”
I mean, I could, but that’s not very safe.
He cuts a look my way. “Very funny, Groupie.”
Liquid courage makes me bolder than I ever thought I could be. “Unlike you, I’m not joking.”
Shifting the car back into park now, he studies my face.
All I can hear is the rapid thud of my heart, for one…
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five seconds…
And then he moves his seat back.
“If you want it…” He looks at me through lowered lids. “Then take it.”
Nerves flutter like a swarm of unruly bees in my belly because I feel like I’ve just bitten off way more than I can chew. Which is saying something considering my bingeing habits.
I’ve watched porn—and practiced with a cucumber once due to sheer curiosity—so I’m familiar with the basic concept of what I’ll need to do.
However, I have no idea how to start. Something Phoenix is now catching on to.
The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, almost like he can sense my anxiety and finds it comical. “Nervous?”
Petrified. But I force myself to push that down because I will not let my fear get in the way of something I’ve been fantasizing about for years.
“No.”
I can feel him sizing me up before he rasps, “Then come here.”