Page 34 of Double Dared
“You said it yourself. You just know how to make a guy happy,” Taylor said. He was pushing me into dangerous territory for the sake of a joke. “But yeah, I don’t want us fake-fighting and fake-breaking up. Let’s just…” He shrugged. “Let’s just hang out and not worry so much about it.”
I took a sip of my wine and held it in my mouth, letting the flavors sink into my tongue, spread through my mouth, and leave a deep, rich flavor as I swallowed and exhaled. “I owe you an apology, too,” I said. “Missing a chance with Emma at the gallery upset me. And the kiss…well, it made me lose balance.”
“I sweep people off their feet all the time,” Taylor mock-bragged and laughed, teeth shining and those defined lips stretching wide.
I had the strongest urge to go over to him and put my arm around his waist and kiss him the way he had kissed me in the gallery. It was a dangerous impulse, and I wondered if I would ever be able to shake it off.
“How are things going with your frat brothers?” I asked.
Taylor shook his head. “They know. Well, Jason does, anyway. And the rest will hear before I’m back.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “How did he find out?”
Taylor swirled the wine in his glass, focusedon the rich, deep red of it for a time before looking up and into my eyes. “He believed it. And he believed that we’d fallen out. So he asked, and I told him it was a prank.”
“Not the grand finale you were hoping for,” I said.
Taylor shook his head slowly from one side to the other. “But he didn’t believe me then.” When he found doubt in my expression, he continued. “He thinks the silence hurt me, and I think he’s right.”
I winced. “I’m sorry, Taylor.”
He shook his head quickly to dismiss the blame. “You had Emma to think about.”
“I saw her,” I admitted. “Later that day, we met in the café on Whitmore Street.”
“Our first date,” he said cheekily.
“Same table,” I said. “She’d bought the lie, too, and it didn’t bother her. The reasons she’d wanted to come up to us in the gallery had nothing to do with clawing your eyes out for taking me.”
“So, it’s over?” Taylor asked, a little apprehensive.
“We don’t have a reason to keep this up,” I told him and braced for the inevitable end. I didn’t specify whatthiswas. I was ready for the impact of us parting ways as friends. I was even looking forward to a new day and a new start, where my heart would be free to pursue something it could attain. Except…
Except.
“Will you come to our cookout on Sunday?” Taylor asked.
I looked at him for a moment before the words sank in. “I’ll be there.”
“No more faking it.”
“Friends forever,” I replied.
He shot me a teasing look I didn’t know how to interpret. “I’ll send you the details tomorrow.”
I knew he would.
He finished his wine, set the glass on the small dining table, and came close to me, hugging me goodbye.
When I was alone, I walked over to the French balcony in the living room and looked down, waiting. After a minute, Taylor stepped out of the building, crossed the street, and looked over his shoulder and up, right at me.
He raised his hand and waved.
I waved back, my heart leaping with a whole new excitement that I didn’t dare look at too closely. It wouldn’t go anywhere, but it felt good. It felt good to have something.
The cab leftme at the bottom of a hiking trail on Sunday, just after noon. The sun kissed the back of my neck as I lifted my backpack to my left shoulder and looked up the trail to where the smoke was already rising from between the bare branches. A few cherry trees were blossoming, and the pines were as green as ever, but most trees were naked and asleep even now.
I hiked up the hill following the sight of smoke from their fire until I heard the laughter and music. Though thecookout was mostly organized by and for the Bel House, I noticed a few impostors like myself. Jason’s boyfriend, Bennet, was a notable example, though he had a tether to the fraternity despite belonging to the Thinkers.
