Dylan grabbed my arm and propelled me out toward his car. He said nothing as he unlocked the door and thrust me in the passenger seat. He revved the engine once he got in, and then screeched around in an illegal U-turn as he pointed the car towards home.
“That was stupid, Roni,” he finally muttered once we hit the Pacific Coast Highway. “You can’t go alone with guys like that. They’re only after one thing.”
“Not from me,” I said softly.
“From anyone,” he corrected. “All those guys want is an easy lay.”
“I’m not an easy lay,” I snapped. “I’m a virgin.”
He stole a brief glance. “For now.”
That pissed me off. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He sighed. “Insecure virgins are a number one target.”
“You’d know,” I snapped.
He pulled off the main road and headed down toward the beach, pulling into the parking lot and killing the engine. He swiveled to face me from his bucket seat. “Is that the kind of guy you think I am?”
I held his gaze for as long as I dared. Finally I looked away. “I don’t know what kind of guy you are.”
“I’m a guy who cares about you,” he said softly, which forced me to look at him again. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
It was hollow comfort. I had been hopelessly infatuated with Dylan Fenn since I saw him ace a spelling bee in the first grade. A lot of good that had done me over the years. With a sigh, I glanced out into the inky blackness of the ocean.
Silence stretched on indeterminately between us until finally he said, “Truth or dare?”
My eyes met his. “What?”
“Truth or dare?” he repeated.
“There are no merry-go-rounds here,” I pointed out.
He conceded that point with a nod of his head. Then he reached across me to pull a joint from the glove box. He lit it up, inhaled deep, and then handed it to me. I took it begrudgingly and gingerly took a hit. “Hold it in,” he instructed, and I did. “Good. Give it a few minutes and you’ll feel like you’re right back on that merry-go-round.”
After I finished coughing and sputtering, I leaned back against my seat and closed my eyes. Just like he said, within minutes I felt like I was flying.
“Truth or dare?” he repeated softly.
I didn’t bother to open my eyes. “Truth.”
“Would you have slept with Todd if he had asked?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” I finally said. And that was the God’s honest truth. “It’s not like anyone ever has.”
“Would you have kissed him?” Dylan persisted.
“I don’t know. Probably. I mean look at me, Dylan. I’m a cliché. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.”
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he said softly.
I glared at him. “That wasn’t a real kiss.”
A long moment passed before either of us spoke. “You’re right,” he finally conceded. “It wasn’t. We were just kids and it was just a silly dare.”
Though I long suspected it, it hurt to hear him say so. I started to look away but his hand curled around the back of my neck and pulled me back. “This is a real kiss,” he said before he leaned toward me and his mouth landed on mine.
I was in shock. I gasped, which parted my lips, a clear invitation for him to deepen the kiss. I tasted the alcohol on his tongue as it slid between my lips and meshed with mine. Inside I went up just like a roman candle. A rush of emotion flooded over me and I had no clue what to do with it. I sat rigid in my seat, as if I moved, or even breathed, I’d wake up lip-to-lip once again with my pillow.
His fingers tangled in my hair as he deepened the kiss, a moan of his own locked in his throat. His breathing was ragged as he broke the kiss. I knew my eyes were big and wide as I stared at him, unsure what to do next. He sighed as his eyes scanned my face. Gently he brushed my hair from my face before planting a long, lingering peck on my lips.
Without another word, he scooted back to his seat, started the car and pulled out of the lot towards home.
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