Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Just for a little while.”
A repetitive dripping sound pulls me from consciousness. It’s still dark, and Dare is molded to me, arms wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, his knee between both of mine. The rhythmic breathing on my neck tells me he’s asleep. Careful not to wake him, I peel myself away from him, following the sound toward the window.
Tiptoeing across the hardwood, I slide open one side of the black curtains and I almost squeal, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle the sound. Everything is covered in a blanket of white, illuminated by the bright moon peeking through the snow-covered trees.
I move silently through Dare’s room and down the stairs, shoving my feet into my boots before plucking Dare’s hoodie off the back of one of the barstools at his counter. I leave the door cracked behind me and walk out into the field of snow. Dare lives in the middle of nowhere, his closest neighbor probably a mile away, so it’s nothing but snow and trees as far as the eye can see. The peacefulness of it all is almost enough to make me emotional, still feeling raw—a lingering effect from our conversation before we fell asleep. I tilt my head back, letting fluffy, oversized snowflakes hit my cheeks.
Arms lock around my waist from behind, and I jump before I hear Dare’s sleepy voice in my ear. “What the hell are you doing, Sally?” His taunting nickname now feels almost…endearing. I don’t hate it.
“You live in Narnia,” I say quietly, leaning into him.
“Why are you whispering?” He nibbles at my earlobe, and for a minute, I forget all about the snow.
“I don’t know. It seems like I have to be quiet out here.”
Dare chuckles, and I turn around in his arms. He’s wearing his sweats, but his torso is bare.
“Aren’t you freezing?” I ask, and he pulls his hood over my head, tightening the strings.
“I’m used to the cold,” he says, eyes running the length of my body, fingering the hem of his hoodie that falls mid-thigh. “But you look good in my jacket.”
I answer him by unzipping said jacket, revealing bare skin underneath. He groans when he realizes I’m wearing nothing else but boots, his hands landing on my ribs. Lifting onto my toes, I use the jacket to cover both of us, our bodies molding together.
Dare brushes his thumbs against my nipples, and I shiver, my lips parting on a sigh. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between my lips before sweeping it inside. I circle my arms around his neck, and he lifts me. My legs wrap around him, boots locking behind his back, my already slick center against his lean abs. This kiss is slower. Deeper. Snow falls around us, but our bodies are too busy speaking a language our tongues don’t speak to care about the cold.
“Wait here for a second,” he says when we finally break apart. I stand, arms wrapped around my middle to keep warm as Dare runs back inside the house. When he comes back out, he has a Thrasher hoodie on and two blankets in his arms. He wraps one of them around my shoulders.
“I want to show you something,” he says cryptically.
“If you’re about to show me a dead body, I’m out.” I follow him into the wooded area, my boots crunching against pine needles and leaves coated with a thin layer of snow. We walk for maybe five minutes before we come to a clearing. Dare spreads the blanket out onto the ground, sitting right in the middle. He holds his hand out for me to join him. I move to sit next to him, but he pulls me in between his bent knees.
He takes the other blanket from me and covers my front before resting his chin on my shoulder.
“I’ve been coming here to be alone for more than ten years. You can probably still find where I carved into that tree over there,” he says, pointing off to the left.
“What’s it say? Dare was here?” I tease.
“Probably more like fuck off.”
I laugh, holding out my palm to catch the snowflakes.
“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful.”
“That’s why I had to live here. My house was nothing more than a shack when it went up for sale. It was a piece of shit and dirt cheap, but I wanted it. I added on and fixed it up. It’s taken me years, and it’s still not completely done.”
We’re silent for a while—long enough for the cold ground to start seeping through the blanket. My butt is numb, but I’ll sit out here all day long if it means seeing this uncensored side to Dare.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” he says, just as the sun starts to peek through the trees, casting a pinkish glow where it hits the fog. This moment feels like magic. Like something out of a fairytale. Fairytales are for princesses, I remind myself. Not ghetto girls from Oakland. But right now, in Dare’s arms, I can pretend. Even if only for a while.