Page 27

Babe. Baby. Bae. Beautiful. It’s none of those things. However, Taron must think so. He clenches his jaw. Balls his hands at his sides. Steps toward Dare. Is he jealous? He can’t be. Or else why would he be in the bathroom with a girl? Was she giving him a BJ? Was he getting her off with his fingers or his mouth or both?

Growling low, I barge past Taron and the girl and yank Dare with me. We are out of the house and marching across the lawn. That is as far as we get. Taron steps in front of me. I collide into him. Dare bumps into my back. Damn Taron and his long legs.

I hold on firmly to Dare’s hand and lean back against his body. There is no question who my loyalty is with.

“Move, Taron.” I could step around him, but do so and he’ll take that as a message that he can keep on messing with me.

“I’m not going anywhere until you give me what you’ve been giving him.”

He has the nerve to look my body up and down.

“What’s he mean, B?”

“Stay out of this, Dare.”

“Fuck sakes, B, we need to bounce.”

“Syn.”

My name is a growl of warning from Taron. A crowd is gathering around us. The partygoers are aware of who Dare is. Same goes for Taron. They’re curious what the bad boy and the quarterback are fighting about, shooting daggers at one another with their eyes.

“I said move, Taron.”

“Give me what I asked for.”

My body. My loyalty. I have more pride than to give him what he wants. Taron needs to learn that his body, his wealth, and his status as Dumas’s new football god isn’t important to me, and I tell him so.

“Syn, you go home with him and I will destroy him. Fucking destroy him, Pixie Dust.”

“Pixie Dust? Why does he call you that?”

“Because she was mine before she was yours, douchebag.” Taron pushes me off to the side. Pulls back his arm.

Shit, shit, shit. His temper’s gotten worse. Like bodily injury, police custody worse. I yank off another ring and hand it to him before he can cause Dare serious damage.

With a satisfied grin on his face, Taron pockets my ring and demands I hand over my cell. Needing to get Dare back to his place before he loses his shit in public, I give Taron my cell.

“FaceTime in thirty minutes.”

“Two hours. What is it you want? A wish? A listen? A chance?”

Behind me, Dare is quiet.

“A listen.”

“Talk to you later, Taron.”

“Later.”

He walks off. With Dare’s arm across my shoulders, I glance back. The girl Taron was with earlier is waiting for him. He pulls her into his arms, and I hear in my head the sound of my heart breaking.

Will it always be like this?

Wondering who he is with?

Torturing myself with what kind of girl will capture Taron’s heart completely and utterly?

I was once that girl.