“Oh. Well, … thanks.” A few minutes went by. Over in the pool, girls were climbing on to guys’ shoulders for a game of chicken, and in the hot tub, one couple had started making out. It was warm for early June, over seventy at almost midnight, and I felt kind of hot and sweaty, even though I wore only a bathing suit. I thought about Chloe up on my shoulders, her pussy against the back of my neck, her legs hooked around my torso, and my dick started to get hard.
Great.
What was I going to do if it didn’t go away? Could I sneak off to the bathroom and take care of it myself? It didn’t help that a soft breeze was coming from Chloe’s direction and I swear to Christ it smelled like key lime pie.
“Oliver,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever think about me?”
I wondered how the hell to answer that question without getting punched in the face. Was she looking at my crotch? “Think about you how?”
“You know how.”
I crossed my legs at the ankle and tried to keep cool. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I want to know.”
I laughed. “I’m not sure you do.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But it’s not really my fault. I’m an eighteen-year-old guy and we don’t think about much else.”
“Girls think about sex too, you know.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. A lot.”
Hope, and my erection, rose higher. “So you’ve thought about me like that?”
She laughed. “Not even for a minute.”
“Fuck off,” I said, heat rushing to my face.
“Sorry. Just being honest. I’ve really never thought about having sex with you.”
I said nothing because I was too busy being mad that she’d tricked me. I should have known better than to be honest with her.
“I’m still a virgin,” she went on. “I’m saving myself for the perfect guy.”
I snorted.
“But I was thinking about kissing you just now.”
I looked over at her and found her head turned toward me. She was serious, as far as I could tell.
“Why now?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you still thinking about it?”
Another nod.
“Then I dare you to come over here.” I said it, but I didn’t actually think she’d do it, so I was shocked when she got off her chair.
Moving over on mine so she could lie next to me, I thought my dick was going to bust out of my swimsuit. Was this for real?
Without saying anything, she stretched out alongside me, her head propped on one hand, the other still clutching that towel between her breasts. For the time being, I kept my hands locked behind my head—I didn’t trust them.
“So?” she said after a moment.
“So what?”
“So I dare you to kiss me.”
With my pulse hammering, I reached for the back of her head and pulled her lips to mine. They were soft and cotton-candy sweet. I kissed her lightly for maybe ten seconds and pulled back. “How was that?”
“Nice. Too nice.”
“Too nice?”
“Well, Jesus, Oliver, if you’re gonna take the dare to kiss me, do it like you mean it.”
God, she drove me nuts. I didn’t even know if she was flirting with me or insulting me, but if she wanted me to kiss her for real, I’d do it. I fisted my hand in her wet hair and brought her lips back to mine—this time, I opened my mouth and slanted my head, kissing her harder and deeper. I shoved my tongue in her mouth. I bit her bottom lip. I hauled her on top of me so her body covered mine. I knew she could feel how hard I was, but I didn’t care—she’d asked for this. I kissed her until she could hardly breathe and she put a hand on my chest as she gasped for air.
“Oliver,” she whispered. “We should stop.”
“Why?”
“Because people can see.”
“So?”
“So that’s enough.” She got off me and stood up.
“Wait a minute, that’s it?” I braced myself on my elbows. “You dare me to kiss you and now you’re leaving me here like this?”
She hoisted the towel up, rewrapping it around herself. “Pretty much. I’m ready to go whenever you are. I’m going to put dry clothes on.”
Fuming, I watched her wander away, my hands clenching into fists. I knew I didn’t really have the right to be angry with her, but I was. This was entrapment! Why’d she make me kiss her like that? Now I was going to be all blue-balled and tortured for the rest of the night, maybe even for the rest of the summer, if Caitlyn didn’t take me back.
Girls. They were so fucking aggravating. Especially Chloe Sawyer.
I vowed I’d never take a dare like that from her again.
But I did.
6
Chloe
THEN
“Show me your room,” I said.
“My room?” Oliver looked at me funny and leaned closer to my ear. The music at the bar was loud, and the crowd was noisy. “Why do you want to see my room? It’s just a dorm room. It’s a mess. And it probably smells.”
“I don’t care. I just want to see it. I’m bored.” I glanced over my shoulder at Blair, my freshman roommate from Purdue, who was flirting shamelessly with Oliver’s roommate from Miami Ohio. “It doesn’t look like they’re ready to leave yet.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda bored too.” He shrugged. “I guess we could.”
“Cool. I’ll tell her we’ll be right back.” Then I hesitated. Blair’s sister was here somewhere—she was an upperclassman and we were staying at her apartment tonight—but I had no clue where she was. I didn’t want to leave my roommate with a creep. “He’s not gonna be a jerk, is he? I won’t leave her alone with him if he is.”
“Who, Beekman?” Oliver snorted. “Nah, he’s harmless.”
“Okay, give me one sec.” I went over to Blair and whispered in her ear. “Hey. Oliver and I are taking off for a bit. We’ll be back.”
She held up one finger at Beekman and turned to whisper back, “Are you sure about this? I still think it’s a dumb idea.”
“Yes. I’m sure.” I rolled my eyes at her doubtful expression. “Look, I just want to get it over with. It’s my choice, so quit harassing me about it.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, giving me a hug. “But come back fast or I’ll be worried. And be careful.”
“I will.” I made my way back to Oliver. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Outside, the late autumn air was crisp as we walked down High Street from uptown Oxford toward the cluster of dorms on the edge of campus. On a Saturday night, the sidewalks were crowded with students heading out for a good time. We seemed to be the only ones walking in the opposite direction.
“This campus is pretty,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Do you like your classes?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Your roommate seems cool.”
“Yeah.”
It was like trying to talk to a brick wall, but that was okay—I hadn’t come all this way for sparkling intellectual conversation. Well, technically, Blair and I’d come all this way to visit her sister, but I was also on a personal mission.