The Dare (Page 12)

The Dare (The Bet #3)(12)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

"My mommy says that boys and girls should only kiss when they’re married."

"You’re mommy’s living under a rock," I grumbled.

"No, she’s right here." The girl pulled back and then shrugged. "She’s sleeping. Sometimes she puts special juice in my cup so she can sleep on the planes."

"I want special juice," Beth said under her breath.

The girl giggled but still didn’t turn back around. And I was left to wonder how a soccer mom had been able to sneak alcohol by security. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

The girl kept staring.

To be honest, it was freaking me out. Don’t get me wrong. I liked kids. I patted their heads and kissed their cheeks during photo-ops, but in my mind there was nothing freakier than a horror movie with a little girl in it. It gave me the creeps.

And this little girl looked exactly like one who could star in her own horror movie.

Clearing my throat, I tried to look away, because the longer she stared the more I was convince she was going to take the plane down with her. In a moment of clarity, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of wrapped candy and held it out to her. "Want some candy?"

"Stranger danger, nine-one-one, stranger danger, nine-one-one!" the girl started wailing.

"Just a guess," Beth said, an amused smile plastered across her pretty face. "But I’m gonna bet her mommy also told her anyone who offered candy was living in an unmarked van down by the river."

Within seconds, mama bear turned around and glared at both me and Beth. I held up the candy like a white flag, hoping the woman wouldn’t slap me, or worse assume I was really going to take her daughter. Masking tape her mouth? Possibly. Kidnap? Hell no.

"You give my daughter candy?" she asked in a gruff voice.

"I was trying to be nice." I gave her my best politician smile.

"Be nice to someone else. We’re all full here, and if you offer her candy again, I’m voting Republican next term."

"Nice." Beth chuckled once the woman turned around.

"What?"

"She knew you! Yay! Another vote in your favor." She held up her hand for a high five. I glared.

And that was it.

Note to self: Life isn’t like the movies, and Beth isn’t like any other girl I’ve ever met.

I’d just had my tongue in her mouth, and we weren’t sitting there having a conversation about what it meant for our new relationship. She wasn’t doodling my name on her magazine. There were no birds chirping above her head, and no, Celine Dion did not start playing randomly throughout the plane. Instead, she was acting like she had amnesia.

She was acting like she didn’t care that I’d just kissed her.

What did it mean? Why the hell had I kissed her? Did that mean we were sharing a room? Was I dating? I didn’t date! I tugged at the collar of my shirt again and gasped for more air.

Holy shit.

Not only was I following in Jake’s footsteps.

But I’d turned into a woman.

I half-expected birds to start chirping around my head as cheerleaders danced down the aisle with tampons.

Because for the next hour all I could think about was not putting my arm on the armrest for fear that it would brush against hers and she’d think I was doing it on purpose.

And then I was too nervous to drink soda, because then I’d have to piss, and I’d walk by her, and she’d see that I was sweating.

I was losing my cool.

And my entire career was based on the very principle that I could be cool in any situation.

Except this one.

The one that got away was officially sitting next to me on a five hour flight — and was immune to me. Like a damn antibiotic. Shit. I was a disease.

I groaned and put my head in my hands, leaning on the small tray.

My second hour in hell ended with the little girl in front of us turning around again and asking if I had gas. And that when she has gas, she moans too.

Side note: I was never reproducing.

Chapter Seven

"I’m not saying I didn’t get a little help." Grandma shrugged. "What woman doesn’t want to look twenty years younger? These old things still have some perk left." She pointed to herself and winked.

"I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with our national security?" The FBI agent took off his glasses and groaned.

"Oh, it doesn’t. I was just bored with all the silly questions about kidnapping and death. So depressing! You wouldn’t happen to have any wine, now would you?"

Beth

I’d read the same stupid article at least fifteen times before I finally realized I wasn’t going to absorb any information at all. The only helpful piece of information I’d pulled from the two sentences I’d managed to repeat over and over again was that there had been another plane crash in Europe. Thanks, US Weekly. I really appreciate the terror you’ve just invoked into my life. Not only was I sitting next to Jace, but the plane could go down at any minute. Because, let’s be honest, I wasn’t the luckiest girl around.

After all.

I’d just admitted to Jace he was my first.

I was also thirty years old. Though he didn’t know that, not exactly. It wasn’t as if I was wearing a sign across my chest that said Thirty year old virgin.

If they made a movie about my life, it would consist of a pantry, full of cookies, chips, and soda, followed by a Netflix addiction and a poster of Vampire Diaries in my living room.

There would be no leading man. The secondary characters would consist of cats and an aloe vera plant named Waldo.

I closed my eyes and willed my mind to stop thinking and just… relax. But his kiss had again reminded me of what I’d been missing. Of what I’d clearly missed the night before when I’d been eating cookies and throwing myself at him. It was terrifying to think that I’d never been intimate with someone, and that the one time I had, I couldn’t remember it. At least I wasn’t boring anymore! I already knew people accused me of being boring on account of what I did. It didn’t help that it had been my nickname while growing up.

Boring Beth. I hated that humiliating nickname. Brett had called me Boring Beth when I refused to give him a thank-you kiss after prom. When he tried again, I’d threatened to poison him. Scowling, I put the magazine in the back-seat pocket and tried to close my eyes.

"So… your first?" Jace whispered.

I opened my eyes. Yes, I was officially that girl. The girl that opened her eyes when she should have kept them nailed shut, the girl that said yes rather than no, and the girl that, given the chance to kiss the same sexy man all over again, would do it without hesitation.

He really did look like Thor.

He had to know that.

I was almost tempted to tell him that, but I doubted that he needed to be reminded of his own good looks. He’d grown into them too well. In high school he’d been smaller. Cuter. Now he was beautiful. Muscle and sharp planes formed his body into perfection.