Page 5 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

Ivy

The elevator lurches upward, a slow crawl that feels like it’s carrying me straight into some kind of heartbreak I didn’t see coming.

I lean back against the cool metal wall, palms damp, my pulse still pounding in my ears. Holy moly.

I didn’t get his number.

I don’t know his last name.

I don’t know where he lives.

The realization hits in waves, each one a little sharper, a little more ridiculous.

My hands curl into fists at my sides, not because I’m angry—though maybe I should be—but because I feel unsteady.

Like I’ve just been handed a rare book and told I have to give it back before I’ve even read the first chapter.

What was I thinking? That we’d just…magically cross paths again?

The elevator dings, jolting me back to reality. I step out, moving down the hallway at a snail’s pace as I approach the room I share with my two best friends.

I stop in front of the door, key card in hand .

I’m not ready. Not ready to see Harper’s raised brows or Olivia’s knowing smirk. Not ready to relive every detail while they dissect it like a true crime podcast.

And yet…

I press my forehead to the door for just a second, letting the weight of the day settle in my chest. Because as much as I want to hide, I need them. I need the comfort of their voices, the easy banter, the way they can make even my worst day feel like an inside joke worth telling.

Taking a breath, I swipe the card, the green light flashing, and push the door open.

Two heads snap toward me instantly, like I’ve just walked into a press conference.

Harper—her long, bright red hair practically glowing under the warm hotel lighting—nearly trips over a half-zipped suitcase as she scrambles off the bed. She’s all urgency and momentum, like she’s been pacing the walls waiting for me.

Olivia moves slower, more deliberate. Her sleek blonde hair is tucked behind one ear, her expression calm but her eyes…they’re searching. Eager. Like she wants every single detail, but she’s willing to wait until I’m ready to give it.

Harper gets to me first.

“What happened? Where’d you go? Was it good? Was he nice? Did you talk about anything important? Did you laugh? Did you?—”

“Harper.” My voice is half-laugh, half-breathless as I lift my hands in surrender. “Slow down.”

But I can’t keep up with her questions. The words blur together, buzzing in my ears until something slips past my guard—a tear I didn’t even feel coming, sliding down my cheek.

That’s when Olivia reaches me. She brushes the tear away gently with her thumb, her touch cool and steady in a way that makes my chest ache.

“Come on,” she says softly.

They each grab an arm, steering me toward the bed until I’m collapsing backward with a muted thump. The mattress dips beneath me, their knees pressing into the edge as they lean in, two different energies wrapped around the same unshakable love—Harper’s effervescent fire and Olivia’s quiet anchor.

And just like that, the dam starts to crack.

The hot water pours over me, streaming down my neck and shoulders in steady rivulets, but it does nothing to wash away the ache in my chest. Steam thickens the air, curling around me until the world beyond the glass feels far away. I brace my palms against the cool tile, head bowed, eyes closed.

And then I’m not in the hotel shower anymore.

I’m back in that charged moment when Gray’s fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up.

His touch was barely there, yet it pinned me in place, left me nowhere to hide.

I can still feel the warmth of his skin, the quiet command in his gaze—like he could see past every defense I’ve ever built.

And the thought strikes hard, almost enough to steal my breath.

What if that was the only time I’ll ever feel it?

I like you, Ivy.

A shiver ripples down my spine despite the heat.

Did that really happen ?

I exhale sharply, tilting my head back under the spray, letting the water drown out the frantic rhythm of my thoughts. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I’ve finally let these dares from Olivia and Harper get to my head.

Because never in my life has a dare led to something that turned my world upside down.

But this one did.

And the worst part? It’s over just as quickly as it began.

I lather shampoo into my hair, working through the tangles as my thoughts churn.

Years of silly challenges like singing in a busy room, ordering the weirdest thing on a menu, sneaking notes to boys we crushed on in the past. But none of those moments lingered.

None of them carved out space in my chest the way Gray just did.

I rinse the suds away, eyes squeezing shut as regret presses behind my ribs.

We didn’t swap numbers. Didn’t even follow each other on social media.

He’s just…gone.

I press my lips together as I scrub my skin with body wash, like maybe I can wash the ache away too. But the truth won’t budge.

Gray shifted something in me, though I couldn’t tell you what. All I know is, the girl who woke up this morning isn’t the same one standing here now.

Maybe that’s the worst part.

Still wrapped in thought, I step out of the shower, dry off and pull on a fluffy hotel robe. Laughter bubbles from the bedroom, the familiar sound grounding me back to reality.

Just outside the door, the energy buzzes.

Olivia stands in front of the mirror, a vision with her blonde hair falling in effortless waves that somehow look both glamorous and low maintenance.

She’s the kind of natural beauty who turns heads without trying, her serious expression at odds with the bold dresses in her hands—one deep red silk, the other glittering silver with a plunging neckline.

“I can’t decide which one,” she sighs. “This is our last night. We have to go out with a bang.”

On the bed, Harper snorts, her red hair already escaping the messy bun she’d half-heartedly attempted. The fiery strands match the spark in her personality—quick, unapologetic.

“Go with the silver,” Harper says without hesitation. “That neckline will stop traffic.” She tilts her head, then smirks. “Although, if we’re aiming for subtle, you might blind someone under the streetlights.”

Olivia laughs, holding the dress up to herself in the mirror. “Subtle is overrated.”

Their laughter fades when their eyes drift back to me. For a beat, neither says anything—just this quiet, almost sympathetic pause, like they can still feel the weight of what I told them about Gray.

Harper straightens, breaking the moment with a bright grin. “Okay. Tonight’s mission? Fancy dinner first, then we hit Bourbon Street like we actually know how to have fun. No moping allowed.”

Olivia sets the silver dress down and turns toward me, her lips curving into something softer. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see him while we’re out tonight?”

The thought sends a little spark through me before I can help it, chasing away some of the heaviness in my chest. “Maybe,” I say, trying to sound casual, but my voice comes out a touch too hopeful .

Harper pats the space beside her on the bed. “Come on, love-struck, sit before I start dragging you.”

I sink down next to her, the mattress dipping under our combined weight, and for the first time since I left the coffee shop, I feel like I can breathe again.

I flop back onto my hands, my voice coming out flatter than I mean it to. “I don’t know if I feel like going out tonight.”

Harper gasps like I’ve just suggested canceling Christmas. “Do you have any idea what I’m walking into next week?” She throws her hands up. “Twenty-five kindergartners who forgot how to sit in a circle and think glue sticks are a food group. I need this last night of spring break.”

Olivia sets the silver dress down and turns toward me, her lips curving into something softer. “And what about you, Ivy? Are you excited to be free from your boring desk job?”

I shrug, fiddling with the zipper on my cosmetic bag. “I don’t know. I mean, freelancing full-time was the plan eventually. I’ve got a couple of clients lined up, but it still feels surreal. Like I’m either on the verge of something amazing or a total disaster.”

“You’re brave,” Harper says softly, with that same blend of admiration and concern she always uses when I leap without a plan. “But it’s going to be good. I can feel it.”

I sigh and perch on the edge of the bed.

Olivia perks up. “It’s going to be amazing. You’re insanely talented. And now you can work in your pajamas and design from cafes in Italy if you want.”

“That’s the dream,” I say softly. “Right now, it’s mostly designing real estate brochures and logos for dog grooming salons. ”

“Hey,” Harper says, raising a finger. “Those dogs need solid branding.”

Laughter ripples again, and for a second, the ache in my chest dulls.

Olivia plops onto the edge of the bed, both dresses pooled in her lap. “We are all starting new chapters next week.”

“Are you ready for your new title?” Harper asks her.

Olivia nods, then lets out a deep breath. “Yeah. No more supervision, no more paperwork hoops. I’m officially full-time at the practice starting Monday morning.”

“That’s amazing,” I say. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”

She shrugs, but her smile is proud. “Thanks. I just hope I’m ready. It’s one thing to be the intern. It’s another to have people fully trusting you with their mess.”

“You’ve been helping people for years,” Harper says, sitting up straighter. “Now you’re just getting paid more for it.”

Olivia laughs. “Spoken like a true teacher who deserves three times her paycheck.”

Harper grins. “Don’t I know it.”

There’s a moment of soft silence, that only happens between friends who’ve grown up and grown close, where no one feels the need to fill the space.

Then Olivia lifts both dresses again with a dramatic flourish. “Alright. Therapy talk over. Now which one of these says I might be a licensed mental health professional, but I also deserve to turn heads on our last night in New Orleans?”