Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) (9 page)

He frowned, and poured more wine in his glass. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

He stared at me, and then shook his head. "Never mind."

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He looked like he mulled over something in his head, then shrugged. “You’re stunning.”

I shook my head, pushing my slice of beef with a fork around the plate.

"You don't take compliments well," he stated.

"People don't mean them. They're flattering, but they're never true."

"Never?" he frowned, taking a sip of wine.

I leaned closer, as if imparting a deep secret. "Never."

I took a sip of my own, meeting his gaze evenly.

"You can't possibly know that."

"I do."

"I see,” he said, his eyes on me, seeing too much. I was afraid that he'd done exactly that– that he saw right through me.

As we ate, I couldn't help but glance his way. I was drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain. I just was. Maybe it was his eyes, heart-meltingly warm when they looked at me with an intensity that told me I was the only thing he saw. Maybe it was the way he talked to me, when he told me I was beautiful, like he'd meant it. Or maybe it was the way he touched me, igniting something in me, a desire I thought I'd long buried.

And that, to me, scared me more than anything.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I was supposed to be unaffected by his presence.

I couldn't even make sense of what we were.

We weren't lovers, but we weren't friends. It was like we were stuck in some limbo, one where we were both uncertain and hesitant to make a move.

It was strange. We'd been through enough to be comfortable and familiar in each other's presence, but it lacked a foundation of trust for it to be solid or real.

We needed to get past it, and I didn't know how. I didn't know if I wanted to or if I was even prepared for it. But at the same time, I wasn’t going to question what we had. I didn’t want to ruin whatever
this
was, like I’ve ruined everything else.

The festival, this dinner, and then the stuff the other day...

"Chase, what's going on here?" I blurted out.

"We're having dinner."

Which told me everything, and nothing at all. I couldn't read him.

"Yes, but why?"

"Because I wanted to take you somewhere, and the food here is fucking incredible."

I came here assuming we would stay out of each other’s hair, and that I’d get to leave in a few weeks. The last thing I expected was the start of this somewhat complicated non-relationship.

* * *

T
he tension was just there
, bubbling beneath the surface. He didn't like it, I could tell.

As we stood up, ready to leave, he leaned closer.

“Something wrong? You barely ate." His lips brushed against my ear, a hand at the small of my back.

It was crazy what his touch did to me, the mere contact sending a jolt through me, and I was even more aware of his presence, as his body led me through and out to his car.

His concern threw me. He was right. I was so nervous, wondering what we were, that I lost my appetite.

"I'm okay," I said, with a smile that I didn't feel. He didn't look convinced.

As he stopped in front of Haley’s, I quickly opened the door, but to my surprise he moved over and pulled the door shut, trapping me inside.

Then he moved back, and turned to me, leaning in, but I shifted away a little, wary.

“What are you doing?” I asked shakily.

"Okay," he said slowly, as if praying for more patience. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," I replied, maybe a little too fast.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "There's definitely something wrong."

"There's nothing wrong," I replied.

"We could go on all day. Just say it."

When I didn't answer, he pressed, "Dinner not up to your taste? Or is the company lacking?"

Oh my God. Without meaning to, I shot back a little too sharply, "There's nothing wrong with dinner, or you. I just," I dragged a hand through my hair in frustration, "I just don't understand what this is. You're not being fair, Chase. I don't understand what's going on, and every time I even try to think that there might be something going on, it just confuses me... Because it makes me remember everything."

"I see."

But he didn't. I don't think he ever really did back then, when everything ended.

I don't know what I expected him to say, but I saw flicker in his expression, the ghost of the look he had then, and something in me, deathly afraid of loss, rose to the surface.

It was just as if a wall wedged itself between us, even higher and thicker than before.

I did it again. By telling him what I felt, I ruined everything.

* * *

He walked me all the way to the door. We both stopped there, unsure of what to do. I didn’t even bother making a move to open the door.

A lot of things needed to be said. I had no idea where to start.

He spoke first. “I remember every single thing too. Happens everyday, every time I see you."

"Chase–"

The frustration rang through, loud and clear. "We made a deal, Sherr. I thought you understood. Will you honor it at least, for as long as what's left of your stay?"

It felt like a slap.

The truce.

He didn't want to talk about the past. Because it was too painful, because it was done, and because he didn't want us to fight. I didn't mean to either, but he wanted honesty, so I gave it to him. I owed it to him. I saw now that it was a mistake.

I realized he didn't know I was moving back yet.

Since I decided to stay here, that meant… That meant never telling him what I felt. That meant accepting that there would never be an us.

This was the price I had to pay.

It wasn't fair. Why did I have to see him again?

Keeping everything in, not daring to show what it did to me to hear him say those words, I made myself reply, "Okay."

I didn’t look at his face as I went into the house and shut the door. I screwed up badly.

I needed to not talk about the past. I needed to bury it, and leave it as it was. It only dug up the things that shouldn’t have mattered anymore.

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t ever let him get too close.

I made a decision to protect my heart a while ago. I had no reason to stop now.

* * *

I
was helping
Paula who just got back, arranging some of the things she brought from her trip, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

When I answered, Haley screeched in my ear, “Anton’s? Really? You didn’t say anything about a date!”

“It wasn’t a date,” I told her. “And hello to you too.”

“But–”

“I was heading home from Abe's. It started to rain, and then he made me think he was going to take me home. Instead, he brought me to Anton’s.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.” She sighed dreamily.

I will never understand people.

“What happened? How did it go?” she pressed for details.

“It was good,” I began. “…And then it went bad. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. It wasn’t a date.”

To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “You’re delusional if you think nothing’s going on.”

Oh my God.

“Nothing is going on,” I snapped.

Why does no one want to believe me?

“Sherr, I saw you two on the couch, you all snuggled up next to him, and him with an arm around you, like you belonged there. Try and tell me none of that is real.”

“We were sleeping,” I argued.

With a sigh, she said, “Which tells me a lot more than you think.”

“Nothing’s going on,” I reiterated, a little annoyed now.

“Now I think you’re just trying to convince yourself.”

Her words still rang in my head even long after the call ended.

Chapter Eleven
Backwards

F
or the third
time in the week, the rain came pouring down hard, beating on the windows.

We decided on a horror movie night. What better way to celebrate the dark and gloomy sky and rain?

I was one of the strange people who liked watching horror movies with friends, but never alone. It was thrilling. I liked being scared. Maybe it made me crazy, but it was a whole lot of fun.

Haley parked the car and we headed inside.

Then I stopped short and stood there in shock as she walked past me. I dragged my feet forward, annoyed that I let myself be lulled into a sense of security again.

Quickly, I pulled Haley aside. “I was under the impression we were going to watch a movie.”

“We are
watching one,” she said, a smirk on her face. Gah. Friends and their self-proclaimed matchmaking powers.

“I was
also
under the impression that it was just going to be us.” I gave her a look that made her look only a little ashamed.

My plan was shot to hell. I counted on having a weekend that didn't involve seeing him.

"It's going to be fine," she said, reassuring me.

"I remember the last thing that happened when you told me that," I murmured in her ear.

“This will be different,” she reassured me. Right.

The thing with Haley was I was never really sure what she planned. It was always a bunch of surprises with her, and they didn’t always end well. Once during a science experiment, she made the fire alarm go off, because she decided she would just make up what to do along the way, without reading.

It earned her a detention, but still, nothing had changed her usually easy, unaffected nature. It was an impressive, but kind of annoying trait to have.

I took the seat furthest from Chase. Kate sat next to Haley, and I sat next to her, while he took the chaise-lounge perpendicular to ours.

The Conjuring started playing. It was one of the scariest movies I've watched, so I moved and shifted a little to turn some lampshades on.

Lightning coincided with the scene when the little girl was banging her head repeatedly on the closet. It made the hair on my neck stand up.

I found it funny when I peeked on what Kate was doing, and she had the pillow squished on the side of her face nearly the entire time, and she would occasionally dare to slide it away a little so she could take a look.

"Kate, what are we playing this movie for if you're not going to watch it?" I nudged her elbow.

"I can hear what's happening. And I look."

* * *

W
e argued about flavors
.

He started it.

After the movie, Kate suggested pizza. He was a fan of pineapples. I liked pineapples. I liked them on something like, say, pineapple pie, and not on something that ever touched cheese. Some things were sacred.

So it led to a little researching. I did a search for the pros and cons of Hawaiian pizza, spouting random facts to his face, while he pulled his own one out and did the same to my beloved barbecue flavor.

In the middle of my Hawaiian pizza fun fact, Kate had enough. She physically placed herself between us, and pushed. Then she shrieked with a tone that brook no argument, "Cut it out! We're having fucking classic."

We both groaned collectively and sulked while we waited for the order to arrive.

At first, it was just Haley that excused herself to go to the bathroom. Then slowly, one by one, Wes and Sierra made up some excuse about answering a call.

Realizing that it was only us left in the living room for a while, I asked, “Where is everyone?”

I heard the engine start and quickly got up, peering out the window.

Holy hell. They were going somewhere. Leaving us.

“They’re leaving…”

Chase pulled the curtains further aside, and we watched them as their car sped off.

I grabbed my phone and rang Wes.

“Where are you going?” I asked when he picked up, feigning calm.

There was a muffled conversation in the car, and I strained to listen, to no avail.

“Sherr, I’ve seen how you both have been the past week. You need to hash out whatever it is that’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on!”

“Calm down.” He sounded amused.

Yes, this was so funny. I fought the urge to scream.

“You were fighting over pizza for twenty minutes.
Pizza
, Sherr. Isn’t that just fucking stupid?”

“Can you pass the phone to Haley, please?”

A laugh in the background, then Kate’s muffled voice.

“Sherr, it’s gonna be okay–”

The hell it was gonna be okay. They were out of their minds.

“Haley,” I said with deadly calm, keeping my voice even. “I’m going to raid your stash.” I hung up on her.

The stash was where she kept most of her chocolates, and other candy. She had a whole secret collection, and there were a lot of them.

She was either going rush back madly or she was still going on her merry way to who-knows-where, but at least she was going to do it while hating me.

A whistle. “That candy stash of hers?” Chase said from behind me.

Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Were you in on this?”

“No,” he chuckled.

“This isn’t funny!”

“It’s very funny, and you know it. Come here,” he said.

I stubbornly crossed my arms, suspicious. “No.”

The doorbell rang, and I grabbed the box, as I munched on the pizza that I did
not
order.

“This will be fun,” Chase said, tapping on something on his phone.

“What’s–”

“I got them tracked.”

Well, wasn't that interesting. "How?"

I edged closer.

“This app,” he pointed out. “It lets you track your friends.”

I watched as the pin popped up in the map and felt a smile hit my face. The pin popped up in the map.

Bingo
.

* * *

A
s he sped away
to their location, I leaned my head on my palm against the window. I didn’t know what to say to him, if I could even talk to him. So I decided it was better for him to think I’m asleep.

“Sherr,” he said my name.

When I didn’t respond, he added, “I know you’re awake. You snore when you sleep.”

To hell with my cover.

I opened my eyes, glaring at him. “I do not!”

He grinned. “You do, they’re little noises. Not very elegant.”

“Excuse me? You’ve never told me that,” I said, a little offended. “If we’re busting each other’s faults, then you hog the covers when you sleep.”

“Yeah, and one time, you nearly pushed me off the bed.”

“Well, you– you kick my pillows down onto the floor!”

“Who fucking needs pillows on their
feet
?”

“I do! The weight makes it all warm and comfy. Plus, you’re really loud in the morning.”

He looked puzzled.

“You wake me up,” I clarified. “When you move around and stuff.”

“You never told me that.” He sounded thoughtful.

“I didn’t want you to think that it was a huge deal for me."

“That’s why you sleep in,” he said, struck by realization. “You should always say if something I’m doing bothers you. That’s what couples do. They
talk
.”

“Oh! Are we talking about the past
now
?” I retorted.

“Last night, I checked my phone before I slept,” I found myself saying. “You texted me. And I thought, how many times had I waited for you to say something back? Until I just stopped believing it would ever come.”

How many times did I want that so much, lying awake at night and waiting for him to text back or call? Waited until my heart became filled with the bitter pain of disappointment. Until I stopped checking completely.

He didn’t say anything.

"I don’t know what we are, and I don’t think you do either. We should just end it here, before it gets anywhere that puts us in a position that forces us to choose,” I said, each word like a shard of glass, pushing into my skin. “It’s better this way."

"The hell it is."

I remembered his rule. “Until this is over, we don't talk about the past, we don't say or do anything to ruin what we have. Wasn't that the deal?"

He swore. "That's why you're being like this?"

He treated it as if I had every control over what I felt, and it pushed me to keep going. I said in a small voice, “I can’t help it, Chase.”

I still had nightmares about it. About him, and that night. But I didn’t tell him that.

“The past doesn't interest me. Not anymore. Doesn't mean I want you to stay away."

"But you don't want to talk about it," I said, trying to seek confirmation if that was still what he wanted. I added, "For as long as I'm staying."

"Why can't you leave it alone?" he shot back, his voice raised. A look of pain crossed his face, and I hated myself for putting it there, for even bringing it up. The memory flashed back to me of the past, when he stood in front of me on one knee, and he offered me his world. It tugged at my heart. I turned my head and shifted away, looking out the window, unseeing, as if the distance would lessen its impact. And although his refusal to acknowledge the past hurt me more than it should, I kept my voice even and my expression blank.

And suddenly, I found I didn’t have it in me to argue. Because arguing meant caring, and caring meant putting your heart into it. I couldn’t do that to myself anymore. My greatest armor was my strength, and right now I needed every bit of it.

"I won't bring it up,” I said, my voice icy.

We sat in silence for a good five minutes, until we reached the destination.

“We’re here,” he announced, stopping by a pancake parlor.

They went out to have pancakes while they left me there with him? They better have intended to bring me some.

“Sherr–”

I needed to get out of this car, ASAP. With the calm and steadiness that I didn’t feel, I replied, “I’m okay.”

As I pushed the handle of the door down, he put a hand on my shoulders, stopping me. He waited until I looked up at him questioningly.

When my eyes met his, his blue eyes looked regretful.

“You have no idea what it does to me when you do that."

He dropped the words like a bomb, and I tried my best to steel myself from the meaning it implied. From him.

I averted my gaze.

“We need to go Chase."

"Don't do that, baby."

What do you want from me
?

I wanted to yell. I wanted to cry, and I wanted to confront him. But I did none of those things. Because he couldn't have it both ways. He could have all of me, or he could have nothing. The past was dead to him, and so I had to be too.

I tugged my hand away, harder, until he let go.

Everything in me protested, but I made myself walk away.

* * *

I
was so done
.

I was fuming all the way back home, so mad that I couldn’t utter a word on the way, partly in fear that I would break down in front of them.

Wes went to crash with Chase, while I went back with Haley and Sierra.

And as they skipped back without a word looking like they fixed all the problems in the world, I lost it.

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