Page 20 of Daring the Hockey Player

"It's not like the Blue Line is a secret," Jasper says. "We come here aftereverywin."

"Thanks, I wasn't aware, but now that I am, I might have to crash all your celebrations," I joke. There's a bucket of beers, and Jasper hands me one without thinking twice.

I pop the lid and take a sip, grimacing at the taste.

"Not your preference? I can bring the waitress over and order something else for you."

"It's fine," I say and try another sip, but it's pretty appalling. I've heard that beer is an acquired taste, but I have no intention of acquiring it anytime soon.

Jasper takes the beer from my hand. "I'll order you something else," he says with more insistence and gestures the waitress over. "What do you want? I'm buying?"

"I'll have a whiskey sour," I say.

"I'm going to need to see your ID," the waitress says.

I dig out my fake ID and hand it over to the waitress, hoping that Jasper doesn't notice the name on it isn't Amber Ryan.

She hands me back the ID, and I bury it in my purse. "Thanks."

"Anything else?" the waitress asks.

"Another bucket of beers. Keep them coming," Owen says. He has two empty beers in front of him, and he grabs a third.

Jasper leans closer as he whispers, "The man is a fish. I've seen him drinka lotand wake up pristine the next morning for practice."

"I wish I had that superpower," I say and laugh. I glance over my shoulder at Charlotte, who seems occupied at the bar with two men. She's laughing and twirling her hair, and I'm unsure if I should be rescuing her or letting her enjoy their company and the drinks.

Jasper turns and follows my gaze. "Your friend?"

"Yeah, she convinced me to—" I don't finish that sentence, and he turns to face me.

"You can't just leave me hanging," he says.

I nervously laugh and avert my stare, glancing down at his hands in his lap, and he probably thinks I'm staring at his crotch.

Crap.

I glance up and inhale a sharp breath.

"Amber?" He's waiting for me to elaborate or explain why I was just caught staring at the bulge in his jeans. And it was an obvious bulge. Like, the man can hardly fit in his pants.

"She dared me to wear that stupid Bruisers jersey," I say.

"Dared you?" He's watching me, studying my face, and I can't quite read him. "Let me guess, you're the type to never back down from a dare."

I'm not sure that's true, but I leave off the part where she convinced me that it would get Jasper's attention, and she was right. It worked.

"I always loved playing truth or dare as a teenager," I say with a shrug. "I guess I never really outgrew it."

The waitress brings my whiskey sour to the table, and I graciously take a sip, although it's more like a gulp. Jasper makes me anxious—being in his presence, his scent, the fact that I can practically feel the heat off his body as his knee brushes against mine.

Unlike earlier, when the jersey smelled disgusting, Jasper smells clean, like soap, but it’s mixed with something earthy.His scent.I could gladly run my tongue along his body and kiss every inch of him.

The smirk on his face grows, and he reaches for his beer, bringing it back for another swig. “Truth or dare,” he says.

I chuckle and take another sip of my drink. Unlike most places around campus, this bar doesn’t water down its alcohol, and it’s tasty with the sour mix, but it also helps me relax.

"Dare." Because if he asks me truth and wants to know if I have feelings for him, I can't voice it. Then again, he could dare me to kiss him, and maybe I shouldn't, but I want to, and it would give me a reason above all else without looking foolish.