Wreckless (7 page)

“Don’t call me ‘darlin'.’ I am
not
your darling.” I closed my eyes. I could not believe that was the best I could come up with.

“Don't blame me for speaking the truth. I wasn't the one talking about how my boyfriend was screwing around with my best friend because of how
boring
I am.”

This was what happened when you let a few honest thoughts slip out.

“I am not boring.”

“Oh yeah? What about that list? We're sitting here killing time, you drank like three sips of a beer, and you look like the truck's the only thing holding you up. Now you're going to go home, cry yourself to sleep, then go to school Monday and pretend everything is fine.”

“No, I'm not.” Although that was basically my plan until Jake made it sound like the equivalent of rolling over and dying.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

I was so angry I had no idea what I was going to do. My hands were shaking and I was so warm I untied my sweater from around my waist just to get some type of layer off of me. I couldn't believe this guy—the one who had been my knight in shining armor just thirty minutes ago—was calling me boring. And a coward. And a
nun
!

A nun was just too far. We were Lutheran, for crying out loud.

I grabbed up my beer and downed as much as I could stand in one measure, gulping it past my taste buds as quickly as possible. Setting it down with a glass-on-metal
thud
, I pushed myself off the truck bed and swung down from the tailgate.

“Where do you think you're going?” Jake stood, hands tucked in his back pockets.

“I'm going to make a list.” I yanked open the passenger's side door and pulled the glove compartment open. He may not have had a pen and paper in there, but a Sharpie and Dairy Queen napkin would do just fine. I went around to the front of the truck to use the hood as a desk.

1.
Trespassing

I wrote it down then put a scratch through it. This list was going pretty darn well.

2.
Drinking

Another scratch.

3.
TP a house

I had one in mind for that.

4.
Lie to my parents

Not as easy. Especially after today when they had accused me of lying when I hadn’t. I couldn’t decide if today’s events made this one harder or easier. Maybe today counted. I mean, as far as my parents were concerned, for that two-hour period, I had already lied to them.

But that seemed like a cop out.

5.
Miss curfew

6.
Stay out all night

7.
Steal a sign

I studied this one for a second. It wasn’t so much the desire to steal any sign. I put
Larson Lane
in parentheses at the end of line seven.

This was going really well. A sweet warmth stole through me at the idea of it all coming together so easily, my head just a little light.

8.
Break a law

I’d have to figure out if the underage drinking and trespassing counted. Although, combining entries seemed like cheating and we’d already established today that I was
not
a cheater.

9.
Pick up a boy at a party

10.
Kiss him

TV made this look easy. The shows on the CW made me think if you were a girl within three miles of a party, you’d be picking up a boy.

Somehow I doubted this was true.

Of course, they also made it look like you could own your own international business in high school and wear Gucci to pep rallies.

I was going to actually need to go to a party to kiss a boy at one.

11.
Go to a party

“What is this?” Jake snatched my list from me. “You're not serious, right?”

I whipped around, surprised how close he was, surprised I felt just a little off-balance.

This must be buzzed.

I grinned to myself. This wasn’t so bad. I kind of felt…fun. I was fun. Or maybe I could be fun.

“You're the one who brought up the list. Maybe I need to get busy being less boring.”

“Oh yeah. You're really going to head out and just do all these.”

“Look at that.” I pointed at one and two. “The first two are already scratched off.”

“Because, by the way you tell it, I all but kidnapped you to come chill out before taking you home.” He held the napkin up to the light. “I’m not sure you’ve really earned the right to cross off ‘drinking,’ either. Is there some other thing you could put on the list, like, ‘sipped almost indiscernible amount of a potentially alcoholic beverage?’”

“I had more than that. And besides, I don't need you to do these. I can do them on my own.”

I wasn't sure how, but I would.

“Sure. You're just going to rush right out and do them all…without a friend or a car or a license. That's really going to happen.”

I knew he was right. I wasn’t
that
girl. And even if I wanted to be, I was lacking Rebellion Resources.

“Maybe I'm more adventurous than you think.”

And completely bluffing at this point.

Jake cocked an eyebrow at me. “Really? Because there seems to be something missing from this list.”

I tried to glance at it, but his hand covered most of three through nine leaving me straining to remember what they all were.

“I wasn't done.”

“No? Then what did you forget?”

I couldn't think of anything I'd forgotten.

“Oh, wait. Cow-tipping. I hadn't put it on there yet.” I tried to reach for the DQ napkin, but he held it over my head.

“Cow-tipping? That's the one you think you forgot?” He shook his head. “You're all talk.”

“I am not. I'm going to do the whole darn list.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Absolutely. One day. Even if cow-tipping wasn’t a real thing. I’d figure out a way to do it anyway.

“So if I happen to remember the item you've left off the list, you'll go do it? Not someday. Not a little at a time. Tonight. You’ll do the whole darn thing, no backing out.”

This was stupid. I was going to end up in some farmer’s backyard with salt rock in my behind. I had no idea where this dare was going, but Jake was ticking me off so bad, I'd’ve promise just about anything.

“Fine.”

There went that eyebrow again.

“Fine?” he asked.

“Yes. Fine. You remember something I said I wanted to do, and we'll put it on the list.”

Jake wrote something with the Sharpie, waved the napkin as if to dry it, then folded it and stuck it in his back pocket.

“If I'm right, if I've added something you said to the list, we go do them all—right now. Tonight.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

Out came that grin that had me seriously doubting myself.

“If I’m wrong, if I just added something you didn’t list, I’ll take you home
and
I’ll ‘accidentally’ wash a red sock with my white game jersey for the Hawks versus Falcons game Friday.”

“Fine.” He was really starting to grate on my nerves. I couldn't wait until he showed me that napkin and I could take my list and go home. I didn't need an overbearing, smirky-guy like him for an adventure. I could be not-boring on my own.

He pulled the napkin back out of his pocket and held it in front of me. The grin morphed into a smirk and I struggled to come up with what he was going to say. What could I possibly have missed?

My stomach dropped when I read the dark guy scrawl next to number twelve.

I wish I’d thought harder.

I wish I’d never said it.

“Skinny-dipping.”

Oh. Crap.

Chapter Six

“I knew it.” Jake snatched the napkin back. “You're going to chicken out. You're always going to be that girl.”

“What? What girl?”

“That girl who wants to do something, be someone else, but can't do it.”

“I can do it.” I wasn't letting some guy I'd known eleven seconds define who I was.

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “I'll take you home. I have someplace I have to be later anyway.”

He headed around the truck as if he hadn't just called me a coward.

He was almost to his door when I shouted over the hood, “Sure. Easy out. Maybe I'm not the one afraid to get naked.”

Oh. My. Gosh. That did
not
just come out of my mouth.

“Darlin', I bet you shower with your bathing suit on. Now get in the truck so I can take you home.”

I stood there, at the front of the hood as if I could block him from driving off as he climbed in and turned the headlights on.

“Bridget,” Jake stood on the runner and looked over the edge of the open door. “Are you coming?”

“I want my list back.”

I couldn't see him over the glare of the lights.

“You want your list back? What are you going to do, frame it?”

“I'm going to do it. Even if I have to do it by myself.”

Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea. Skinny-dipping alone seemed like a much better plan. Getting naked anywhere near a guy—especially a guy like Jake Moore—seemed like one of the stupidest things I could have come up with.

I blame the temporary betrayed-and-hurting insanity.

We glared at each other. Me standing in the blinding light of the headlights. Him barely silhouetted by the moon behind him.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t sure if he was glaring or not, but
I
sure was.

“You really think you're going to get naked in front of me?” He stepped off the runner and came around the door to face me, entering my personal space and forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. “You think if we head on over to that creek you're just going to strip off that kindergarten teacher outfit and dive in wearing nothing but the skin God gave you while I sit here on this hood and watch?”

He tapped the hood of the truck behind him to prove he was willing to watch me strip for a dip.

“No one said this was a strip show.”

“You wouldn't get in the water if I let you keep your bra and panties on, let alone skinny-dip. You're way out of your league. Let's get you back to the sandbox.”

“You wanna bet?

Jake stuck crossed his arms, his feet braced shoulder-width apart, and glared down at me. I was crossing lines faster than I saw them coming, but that happy little third-of-a-beer buzz had me feeling like I
could
be something else. Even if just for tonight.

Jake pivoted and headed away again, calling over his shoulder, “Fine. Get in the truck.”

“What?”

“Get in the truck. You wanted to skinny-dip, we're going to go skinny-dipping.”

He stalked around the open door and jumped back in the cab. I waited a moment before I did the same, slamming the passenger's side door for good measure. He gunned the engine and drove us across a field toward the copse of trees on the far side.

With the silence taking over, he parked the truck, turned it off, and slid around to face me.

“Last chance.”

Just the way he said it, his low voice dropping another octave, made my gut churn.

He was right. I was in way over my head, but I wasn't backing out. I may have been a lot of things, but I wasn't a coward. Without waiting for him to push me again, I hopped out of the truck, slamming the door. If there wasn’t a therapy center somewhere that let you come in just to slam doors, there should have been.

I met him in front of the truck and glanced toward the dark mirror the trees were clustered around. He pulled a blanket out of the back of the truck, and then gave me that grin—the one I already knew signaled nothing but trouble.

After a glance that said,
there's no way you're
not
going to back out
, Jake started walking toward the water, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he went.

It really was unfair. I couldn't just take off a layer and not feel naked. Guys had the upper hand in situations like this.

Yeah, because there were tons of situations like this.

Not to mention I was one hundred percent sure my body was not as ogle-able as his. If I wasn't mistaken—and even in this near dark situation, I was pretty sure I wasn't—it looked like he had some type of tattoo wrapped around his shoulder.

Jake had spread the blanket out on the ground and dropped his shirt on it by the time I stopped gaping at his ink.

“Well?” His voice broke my attention, dragging my gaze away from his body art and up, up to where he looked back at me, a smug look etching those lips.

Behind him, the dark water held a pin light of moon dancing on it. He held his hands out to the side as if calming a colt about to sprint. My whole body was locked in place, tense. I was sure he could see it from across the clearing. Especially when his whole demeanor softened.

“Bridget, it's okay if you don't want to. I'll stop giving you a rough time.” He reached over and picked up his shirt.

Even him being nice felt like a dare. He was there, already stripping his clothes off, and telling me he'd understand if I was too chicken to keep up.

And I was doing everything I could not to take him up on that ‘out.’

“What if…what if you go first and then turn around and I'll…”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “You'll what?”

“I'll...” Oh dear Lord. I couldn't even say it.

“You'll get naked?”

“Yes.” I waved my hand before he could start that grinning thing again. “You'll turn around and let me get in the water without looking.”

“I think you're missing about ninety-nine percent of the reason guys bring a girl skinny-dipping.”

It shouldn't have—really, really, really shouldn't have—but the idea that Jake might want to see me naked felt good. Darn good.

Tanner hadn't ever pushed for anything sans clothes, though it looked like he had been getting awfully comfortable naked with my best friend.

Ex-best friend.

“Jake, this is my list, and we'll do it my way.”

My mama always said, fake it ‘til you make it. I was hoping that worked with bravery, too.

“All right. We'll do it your way.”

He tossed his shirt back on the ground, toed off his sneakers, and tossed his socks next to them.

He undid the button of his jeans, his hands pausing there, holding the top just a bit apart.