Page 18

EIGHTEEN

TRENT

What the fuck had gotten into me?

Normally, I’d blame the liquor. Four shots of tequila at a club and I’d say the first thing that popped out of my mouth to anyone who’d listen. But I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since the night before.

I was horny.

Definitely horny.

Not for Kit, of course. Or at least, not Kit as a whole. Kit certainly sparked some response for me, or else I never would have come on the trip. Cute pretty. Not my type.

But she might be right. We had sibling chemistry. Or something close to it.

Of course, I’d never caught myself daydreaming about kissing my siblings.

She tapped her fingers on the table, waiting for an explanation. A reason I’d even asked if she’d thought about kissing me.

“You have the best reactions. Like when Gavin flubbed an easy pitch at practice and tripped over the ball. You had that exasperated look on her face with your eyebrows all high and your mouth pursed like you sucked a lemon.”

She laughed, a breathy exhale followed by a quick smile, all white teeth. Her eyes fluttered up to the ceiling and back to me. She had a great laugh, too.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

I could have stopped there. Probably should have stopped there. But admitting one reason I’d thought about kissing Kit caused an avalanche, and I couldn’t stop.

“And you call me on my shit.” I said, my words halting as I searched for the right way to explain why I’d completely overlooked Kit the first time I met her. “And you actually expect me to do better. I have a lot of people who don’t call me out for anything and only a few who call out my shit, but don’t expect me to do anything about it. I like that you think I’m better than I act.”

She watched me, her lips pursed together and drawing my attention. Deep red lips with a hint of shine. Carmex lip balm she kept stashed seemingly everywhere. “You are better than you act, Trent.”

Yeah, I wanted to kiss Kit. Just out of curiosity. Nothing more than that.

And Kit wasn’t the type of girl to fly off the handle over a kiss. She wouldn’t call and text nonstop wanting to go out again. She wouldn’t show up at my house. Best case, she’d kiss me and then laugh in my face.

I still wanted to kiss her. So, I pushed.

“How curious are you, Kit?”

“Is that my second truth or dare?” she asked, pulling her knee further in so it didn’t rest against my thigh.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Fine, I’m a little curious. It’d probably be awful.”

“Maybe.”

“Like kissing a sleazy uncle who shows up every fifth Christmas and makes a point to kiss you on the lips because he ‘spent some time in Italy.’”

“Oddly specific,” I said, making a note to round back to that later. “But, yeah, maybe…or it could be kind of great.”

“Because you’re such a pro at kissing?”

“I haven’t had any complaints.”

She drained the last of her drink. The leaden tumbler thwacked against the table. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

I grinned, anticipation flowing through me. “Dare.”

“Alright,” she pitched forward in her seat, cherry lip balm and bourbon flooding my nostrils. “I dare you to go ask that bartender for his shirt.”

My head jerked back at the grizzled guy behind the counter. “Wait, what?”

“You said dare.” Her lips tilted up. “You don’t have to hit on him. Just get his shirt.”

“He’s definitely going to think I’m hitting on him if I ask for his shirt.” Besides a red bandana over his ponytail and a full beard that would make any member of ZZ Top wildly jealous, the guy wore a faded gray t-shirt, sleeves ripped off and “Blind Horse Saloon” emblazoned on the front.

“Come on, you’re resourceful. Besides, it’s on the list.”

She patted the pocket of my jacket where I’d stashed the guidebook.

“You can’t be serious.” I pulled out the book, flipping to the handwritten hidden tasks listed on the back. Sure enough.

“Can’t we just buy one?” I hooked a thumb at the dusty stand of merchandise next to a sad assortment of chips.

She shook her head, tapping the book. “Nope. It says so right there.”

“Fuck,” I swore under my breath. This wasn’t the dare I was hoping for, but I could adjust. “Okay, I can do this.”

She shrugged. “Sure you can. Probably. Show me how it’s done.”

I braced myself with a big inhale before standing. Kit slid to the edge of the bench, giving my ass a playful swat. “Good luck out there, Texas.”

My mind raced on the short walk up to the bar. Immersed in his hard stare at the locals circling the pool tables, the bartender took a second to notice me.

“Hey, man, whatcha need?” he asked with a grunt.

“Ah…” I stumbled. “Another water and just some bourbon neat. Hey, are you a football fan?”

He shook his head as he filled a glass with water. “Nah. Not really into sports.”

Fuck.

“My brother is, though. Huge Panthers fan. He drags me to a game every season. I’m not sure why. They suck.”

The panic around my chest loosened. Good. This was good. He set the water in front of me and turned back around for the bourbon.

“Listen, this is going to sound insane, but I’m Trent Vogt. I’m a player for the Norwalk Breakers.”

He turned his head, but instead of looking impressed, his forehead furrowed. “Okay...”

“Is there any way you’d consider trading your shirt for my hat? I’d sign it.”

He turned around with a frown. “What? My shirt?”

“I’d sign my hat for you, if you give me your shirt. I don’t want to sound weird, but I need it.”

He glowered, hand hovering over the bottle of bourbon. “That sounds pretty fucking weird.”

I grimaced, glancing back at Kit. She shot me a quick thumbs up, amusement plastered on her face. I turned back to the bartender.

“You can buy a shirt, you know. Twenty bucks.” He pointed to a dusty display in the corner, shirts and koozies next to a sad assortment of chips.

“Yeah, I know, I just…want that one.”

“Dude, you don’t want this one. I’ve worked all day in it. It’s gross as hell.”

I winced, setting my palm on the bar top. “Yeah, but I do. And I can’t pay you for it, but what if I tip you a hundred bucks? Two hundred?”

Avoiding gauging his reaction, I rifled through my wallet, counting bills.

“Actually, how about three hundred?” I slapped the bills on the bar. “It’s not for the shirt. But if I could have the shirt, that’d be great.”

He eyed the cash warily before sliding the bills off the bar and stuffing them into his pocket.

I let out a breath. “Great. Thank you.”

“You can get the fuck out of here.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t over serve you, but someone did if you’re waltzing in here asking for people’s clothing. Make sure your lady friend is driving you home.” He swiped the bourbon off the bar, downing it in a gulp. The glass hit the bar top with a thud, and he pointed a finger at the door. “Now, you’d best get out of here.”

I turned to Kit. Her jaw hung open, and in a breath, she stood up and hurried to my side, grabbing my hand. “Sorry about my friend. He’s just…I don’t have an excuse for him. Have a great night!”

She hustled us out of the bar, collapsing in laughter as soon as the door slammed shut behind us. “Oh my god, why are you so weird?”

“Me? Weird?”

“Could I maybe get your shirt, sir? Let me give you some money. I don’t want it in a strange way.” She pitched her voice down low until contagious laughter took over. “Wow. I thought that’d be bad, but I didn’t expect that. You got us kicked out of a bar!”

“You didn’t give me any instructions.”

The spotlights shining at the hotel across the street provided the only illumination on the silent street. Silent besides Kit’s gasping laughs.

“Maybe go for a truth next time. You suck at dares. We didn’t even get the shirt. I did get that on video, though.” She wiped tears from her eyes as she straightened, her eyes skittering back to the closed door.

“I don’t think Tom likes me.” I followed her gaze. Through the window, the bartender’s eyes met mine and narrowed. I looked away. “I bet we could get some points if you blur the bartender’s face and post it. He’d probably enjoy watching me get humiliated.”

“Probably, but I’m keeping this all to myself.” She tapped the phone in her pocket. “A personal little pick-me-up for anytime I’m feeling down. I can remember that superstar wide receiver Trent Vogt once got kicked out of a bar for being a total weirdo.”

“You made me do that.” A smile formed on my lips despite the threat as we made our way across the street toward our hotel. “And I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA. I should call my lawyer about that.”

She shook her head, strands of brown hair escaping her falling ponytail. “Nope. Not happening. All’s fair in Truth and Dare, and I get one more.”

The door slid open with a swoosh, and Kit contained her laughter long enough to get checked in. I followed her as she doglegged around the corner to the bank of elevators.

“Dare.” I mashed the “Open” button, and the doors slid open.

Kit raised an eyebrow, resting her back against the wall. “You’re not a fast learner, are you?”

“Well, there are no more burly bartenders to hurt me, so I think I’m pretty safe.”

Kit tilted her head as the elevator slid to a halt. The doors opened up, but she kept her eyes on mine.

“Ladies first.” I gestured to the exit.

She pushed off the wall, sauntering down the hallway to her door.

“Fuck it.” She whirled around, and I stopped short not to run into her. “I dare you to kiss me.”

“Wait, seriously?”

After turning me down with the first dare, I half expected her to ask me to run around the hotel naked or steal a car. Something over the top ridiculous just to continue my humiliation. And if she laughed like she did outside the bar, I’d do it in a second.

She shrugged. “You’ve got me thinking about it, and sure, why not? It’s going to be a disaster.”

“Probably.” I grinned.

“And this is just in the name of science.”

I laughed, pressing my arm on the door frame and leaning close. “Yeah. Science. Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“This changes nothing,” she muttered as I ducked my head down. My forehead brushed hers, and I ran a hand down her arm.

She shivered. “No. Probably not, other than we’ll both know.”

The tip of my nose skimmed hers before she tilted her head up. Her tongue wetted her lips, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I leaned forward, covering her lips with mine. A sizzle of electricity ran through my body as I wrapped my free hand around her waist, pulling her body closer. Her fingers ran over my chest, fisting my shirt. Her lips parted, and my tongue flicked over hers.

She broke the kiss. Her bottom lip shuddered as her soft brown eyes searched mine.

Fuck.

The kiss was good. Great, even.

I dove back in, dropping my hand from the doorframe to envelop her in my arms. She clung to my chest as I pressed her back against the door, my lips traveling down her neck and back again.

Lust ripped through my body, cock straining at my jeans and head empty of all the reasons I expected this kiss to be a disaster.

Well, it was definitely a disaster. A disaster for this rally. A disaster for whatever budding friendship I had with Kit. Because my lust-filled brain didn’t want Kit for a friend. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted to keep her there, definitely for the night, maybe for days.

But just as quick as I’d restarted the kiss, she ended it. Disentangling her hand from my shirt, she traced her fingertips up my neck, cupping my cheek, forcing our lips apart.

“Sibling energy,” she said, breathless and cheeks red.

I blinked. “What?”

Her throat bobbed as she slowly inhaled and then exhaled. “Ashley had it right. That was…”

Incredible? Fucking hot?

“Um…different.”

My stomach dropped as Kit forced me back with her palm, eyes downturned.

“Well, it’s late.” She cleared her throat, turning toward her door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She fumbled with her purse, finally withdrawing the key card and opening her door. Without a second glance, she slipped inside.