Dare Me Forever (A Solana Beach Book) Read online

  Walking up the rose lined front steps, I couldn’t help but be transported back in time to high school. Hunter had always thrown the best parties. His parents loved having lots of people always running around, stopping by. They always made me feel welcome, and especially given my home life, it really mattered to have good people and a healthy family in my life, even if only for the almost two years Hunter and I were together. Well, here goes nothing, I thought, quickly ringing the doorbell before I lost the nerve. I hoped it wouldn’t be awkward with Hunter’s mother. I hadn’t seen her in ages.

  Mrs. Morgan opened the door wide. She looked lovely in an all white linen dress. “Amy!” she exclaimed. “Hunter said he ran into you at the super market. I’m so happy you came.” She lowered her voice. “And with everything that’s going on, he needs a friend right now.” I had no idea what she was referring to, but I smiled at her. “You look just the same as when you were in high school.” I was so happy to see her, and relieved that she’d welcomed me so warmly.

  I laughed. “I don’t know about that—remember my friend Jamie Merino?”

  “Of course I do, come in. It’s wonderful to see you both. Everyone’s outside in the back.”

  Jamie and I walked through the foyer to the French doors leading out into the spacious back yard. I could hear the low murmur of people chatting and enjoying the beautiful February weather. In any other part of the country, it would be freezing cold. We were lucky we lived so near the ocean—the sea air cooled everything down, otherwise it would actually be too hot.

  We made our way to the self-serve bar. All sorts of beer, wine, and soda sat glistening in metal ice baths. Mrs. Morgan had arranged it on a scalloped patterned tablecloth, right out of “Better Homes and Garden.” I’d learned from the Morgans, if you have a fully stocked bar, the party will always be great, no matter anything else.

  I felt a presence behind me and turned around, a coy smiling playing at the corners of my lips. I was determined to play it cool.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Hunter, hi.” He looked amazing in a navy polo shirt and jeans. The shirt was tight enough to show off his muscular shoulders and strong abs. His blond hair was disheveled, in a kind of sporty way. And he smelled like fresh laundry mixed with something really masculine. Just being near him brought back so many sensual memories. I used to love the way he’d kiss the back of my neck, while feeling him pressed behind me. He was the first guy who ever seriously turned me on. So many hot incidences came into my mind. The delicious thrill of those firsts. I needed to snap out of it and speak.

  “I’d love a—” But before I could finish my sentence, Hunter interrupted.

  “Wine Spritzer?” Hunter laughed when I lifted my eyebrow. You drink what my mom likes. Do you still like that?” He seemed so proud that he’d remembered.

  “Actually, I’ve moved on to less fruity drinks. A glass of white would be great.” See, I’d changed.

  As he poured me my drink, Jamie sidled up beside him. “Hunter, long time no see! Is your sister here?” She grabbed a Heineken off the table and popped off the top.

  Before he could answer her, we heard his name called. “Hunter!” A girl I didn’t recognize ran up to the table. She grabbed Hunter around the waist and smiled at Jamie and me. She was clearly trying to show us he was her man.

  “Hunter, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked, her golden ponytail swishing behind her.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Jennifer, this is Amy and Jamie. We went to high school together. Ladies, this is Jennifer.”

  Jennifer gave me a limp handshake before turning towards Hunter and whining, “Honey, help me with the guacamole. You promised.” She pouted and tugged on his arm. He didn’t move. “Jamie, Amy,” Jennifer went on, her voice higher with obvious frustration, “good to meet you. Now come on Hunter.” Hunter looked up briefly at me and half-smiled.

  “See you later,” he said.

  “That kitten’s got claws,” Jamie whispered into my ear as soon as they’d left. I nodded and tried to ignore the sensation of icy disappointment in my stomach, instead pulling Jamie towards the appetizers. I piled my plate with breaded crab cakes—hey, my week of binging may have ended, but I can’t be blamed for taking advantage of the gourmet hors d’oeurves. Guiltily, I reached for a couple of celery sticks, but before I could get them to my plate, Jamie grabbed my arm. She wanted to mingle and see if anyone we knew had come.

  I was surprised how much fun I had socializing with people from high school and friends of Hunter’s from work. It was comfortable and easy catching up–okay maybe the wine helped too. And whenever I glimpsed Hunter, it looked like Jennifer was keeping him busy. I didn’t remember him taking so well to being bossed around, but a long time had passed since high school. Maybe he’d changed.

  I slowly wandered away from the hub of the party, still holding my drink. I’d had a few more glasses of light bubbly champagne and could feel my head spinning. I hadn’t had anything to drink in a few months because of all the work securing enough commissions to support the launch of the store. I needed a minute to myself.

  I always liked to take a moment away from the crowd, just to savor the experience. The beautiful party, the sweet air, and finally feeling happy and relaxed. I rambled towards the back of the property. The last few weeks had been so hard with getting everything ready for the store’s grand opening and with helping Luke move out into his dorm. I hadn’t really taken a break and enjoyed the simple things. I knew that if I kept walking on the cobbled path, I would find a small guesthouse—the perfect place to take a breather. Hunter and I had snuck down here on Friday nights all the time in high school.

  So I kept going, down the stone path to the cottage. Sitting on a bench alongside the small house, just where I had wanted to sit, was an incredible looking man: dark hair, and tall even sitting, well built. His back was perfectly broad across the shoulders, tapering down creating a classic V-shaped torso. He was a bit overdressed for the barbeque, in blue chinos, a white button down work shirt, and a fitted dark blazer. He looked like he was deep in thought, looking away from the party, towards the ocean.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” I said, surprising myself. I never say things like that, but he looked so serious, sitting there in the midst of the party, pensive and alone. I was determined to lighten his mood, though maybe the drinks had something to do with it. I smiled and moved closer to the bench “I’m Amy. And you are?”

  “I’m busy and don’t have time for this now,” his said tersely in a British accent. I couldn’t believe my ears. How rude. And if he was so busy, why did he bother coming to the party anyway? He turned towards me, and right after being taken aback by his perfect green eyes, I noticed an iPhone pressed up against his ear.

  All at once I realized how foolish I was--he hadn’t been talking to me at all. He’d been so quiet earlier, and through the noise of the party, I hadn’t noticed that he was obviously in a deep conversation. How many glasses of wine had I had? Who knew, but it must have been a lot more than usual. I had better be careful as I was coming to realize that maybe, just maybe I was a little bit trashed.

  He looked up at me slowly and held one finger to keep me at bay, the way you would gesture to an errant assistant when interrupted. Ew. No thank you. “What am I, one of your subjects?” I murmured.

  He turned toward me, obviously hearing the snarky remark I’d just made.

  “Hang on Jason,” he put his hand over the phone. “No, you’re not, but you could be,” he said, an incorrigible grin on his face. What a condescending ass.

  Now I wished I hadn’t wandered over. Sure he was good looking--well actually he was gorgeous--but I wasn’t going to wait for someone I didn’t even know, no matter how well-built he was or how sexy his accent. But as I was about to turn and walk away, he ended his call and looked up at me, straight in my eyes. It was a sweet look, nothing like how he had sounded a moment earlier, li
ke we were in on some private joke together. I could feel heat spreading through my chest, and I almost felt like giggling. The way his eyes sparkled, it felt like he already knew me.

  I’d definitely had too much to drink--who thinks like this? I could feel my heart fluttering, almost as if there were an electrical charge in the air. I only met this man two minutes ago, but I could feel myself blushing under his gaze. How could I be feeling so strongly?

  “Do you work for the Morgans?” My voice caught in my throat. I took a breath, trying to relax and avoid being tongue-tied, despite the fact that my head was spinning—and I didn’t think it was all from the wine either.

  “Yes, I work with Hunter and his father,” he said.

  “What are you working on?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  “We’re working on a big site together on Ocean Avenue.” He looked serious as he talked about work, and I loved the accent. “In a few years’ time, we’ll have all the amenities of the larger cities.” It sounded like he was in a boardroom trying to win over potential investors. The guy needed to let loose and remember he was at a party, not the office.

  “But keep our sleepy, casual vibe. I mean who wants an overbuilt coastline with no place to just walk and enjoy the quiet?” I asked. “Not to mention the environment.”

  He laughed, and then said, “I’m sorry about earlier. Stressful deal going the wrong way.” He ran his fingers through his dark, thick hair. I had the sudden urge to touch it too, to wrap my fingers around a short strand and pull. I tried to shift my attention back to our conversation.

  “But this site on Ocean could mean real money. You can’t imagine how much is at stake.”

  How arrogant. Even if he was outrageously attractive, he didn’t know what I could or couldn’t imagine. “Actually,” I said, unable to stop the bite in my voice, “I can imagine it, but I also know that everyone needs a bit of quiet, even you.” I gestured towards the party we’d both left.

  “You don’t like the big time?” he asked, his voice lilting, his mouth smiling, a mischievous glint in his eye. How did he manage to make that sound so sexual? I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth.

  He looked like a man who lived in his whole life on a grand scale. Well, he was getting under my skin in a major way, so he was achieving his “grand scale” there. I don’t love being made fun of. And anyway, I’ve lived here my whole life. It kind of irked me that someone who clearly wasn’t from here had the power to decide how Solana Beach would or wouldn’t look. I broke eye contact, realizing I was almost disappointed in him.

  “Let’s start over,” he said, interrupting my train of thought. “I’m Ryan Anderson. Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

  It was like he could hear my thoughts, could tell I’d been thinking he was a bit of an asshole. I didn’t want to be swayed by his attention, but I couldn’t help it. A perfect stranger, who happened to be completely gorgeous, complimenting me felt pretty damn good.

  “Someone has definitely told her she has beautiful eyes.” Hunter emerged from the same path I’d been on moments before, and looked straight at me. Every time he met my gaze, I remembered how much I had felt for him when we were teenagers, and then like a smack, how it took months to get over him. I wasn’t happy he decided to interrupt right then. I could handle this myself. And I wanted to continue to talk to Ryan alone. Because the minute I set eyes on him, I’d felt something.

  “Do you two know each other?” Ryan asked casually, looking over at Hunter and back again at me. I caught Hunter’s angry expression, and then saw it turn wary.

  “We’re friends from way back.” Hunter tried to sound friendly, but I could still hear the edge in his voice.

  Ryan smiled at me, his face tense, the spark gone from his incredible emerald eyes. I could feel the tension between the two men growing with each passing minute. Was this a pissing contest? What were they so upset about? Maybe it had to do with business, with some kind of complicated internal politics at play.

  “So, boys,” I said lightly, trying to break the silence. “Let’s get back to the party, shall we?” I picked up my drink, beckoning for them to come with me. Ryan looked at me, and I thought I could see a flicker of sadness pass over his features, but then the look disappeared so quickly that I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. What was he thinking? I found myself wanting to figure him out, how he could be so cold one moment and so warm the next. He stayed near the bench. I didn’t want to leave him and I felt irritated with Hunter for interrupting.

  Hunter grabbed my arm. His grip was firm, but still gentle. Instead of walking back towards the partygoers, he led me towards the house. I don’t know why I felt I had to go with him—I guess because he had invited me to the party, but every part of me wanted to stay and talk to Ryan. As we walked away together, I wanted to look back and say something, but I didn’t know how to do it gracefully or what exactly I would say. So I just continued to walk, feeling Ryan’s eyes searing into the back of my body.

  As we rounded the side of the house, slipping out of Ryan’s gaze, Hunter seemed to finally relax. “Amy, it’s really so great to see you. I’m glad we left the back area, Ryan really annoys me.” We walked into the kitchen through the back entrance.

  I was just about to ask him why, when we heard voices coming near the kitchen. Hunter quickly dropped my arm, stuffing his hand into his back pocket. Mrs. Morgan walked into the kitchen from the living room, followed by Jennifer.

  “There you are.” Jennifer smiled tightly. “Hi, Amy, was it?” She narrowed her eyes, looking between Hunter and me. He may have let go of me, but he was still standing a little closer than necessary. Jennifer definitely noticed, and she didn’t like it, not one bit.

  “Yes, well I was just saying goodbye to Hunter. Thank you so much,” I said, turning to Mrs. Morgan. “It was a beautiful party. I need to find Jamie, and I have a big day tomorrow at the store.” I could feel myself starting to babble, like I always do when I’m nervous, but I didn’t want Hunter’s girlfriend to think I was inching in on her man. Or Mrs. Morgan to think I was that kind of girl. Jennifer didn’t need to worry. It wasn’t like that between us. It felt good to see him again, of course, and we had our shared history. But he’d left me the week before prom, alone and without a date, and I could still feel the sting of rejection. He’d probably invited me because he felt guilty over how he ended things with me.

  “I think Jamie is in the front of the house, looking for you, dear.” Mrs. Morgan pulled me into a tight hug. “Don’t be a stranger.” She had always been kind to me, especially after my mother left. Unfortunately that ended before Hunter and I broke up, but I wouldn’t dwell on that now.

  Feeling the tension between Hunter and Jennifer growing, I waved goodbye and left the kitchen. Jamie was waiting for me by the front door, thank god. With the memory of Jennifer’s fake smile still on my mind, I knew it was definitely time to go.

  CHAPTER 3

  Amy

  I still hadn’t gotten back to my mom. I could see I had six missed calls during the barbeque, so when Jamie dropped me off, I decided to bite the bullet and phone her. As I waited for her to pick up, I sighed, wondering what she wanted.

  The phone kept buzzing. One. Two. Three. Please voicemail, please, I prayed.

  The person I really wanted to call was Ryan. It made no sense. I’d just met him. I didn’t even know him, but I kept thinking of the way it felt for those few minutes of being with him. He might be a bit full of himself with the way he talked about business, but I loved how he had looked at me. He had that twinkle in his eyes. Maybe I’d run into him in town. I hoped so.

  “Hello.” Miranda’s smoker voice came over the line. “It’s nice of you to finally call me back.”

  “Hi, Miranda.” She likes to be called Miranda, as she doesn’t want people to think she is old enough to be anybody’s mother. With all the face-lifts she’s had, I think she should worry more about people believing she’s human.

/>   I took a deep breath, determined not to fight, not to cry, and to stay calm. I used to try telling her about my life and what I was up to, until I realized that she was never listening. I did a little experiment once to see if I was right, and slipped into the conversation that I was having a love child with our seventy-nine year old, catatonic neighbor who lived next door. She knew him from when she still lived with us. He could barely walk, even ten years ago. All she said was, “That’s wonderful dear,” before going back to telling me about herself. Now I didn’t even bother.

  Mom babbled on, “I’m thinking of investing locally so I can see you and Luke more often, but I can really only spare the time if I can franchise my business out there or find a new investment that makes sense in California. That’s what John thinks anyway.”

  John was husband number 4. Six months after my dad died, Miranda already had a new man and when he wanted to move with her to New Mexico for a job, she made it perfectly clear that we better stay put. She promised she’d split her time between her new home and ours, but she gradually stopped traveling back here as often, leaving Luke and me to fend for ourselves. When Mr. New Mexico didn’t work out, she started dating the head of his company. She traded in husbands the way other people trade in cars. Last time I’d seen her, it was over lunch with Mr. Right Number 4, otherwise known as John. The only difference between him and Number 3, or so it seemed to me, was the number of zeros at the end of his bank account.

  “Are you going to franchise the mani-pedi salons?” I asked, trying to sound interested. Since when did she become so obsessed with her business? But I guess anything she was doing was infinitely interesting to her.

  She’d used John’s money to open a chain of beauty spas across the southwest and apparently they were very successful.

  “Well what else would I franchise, Amy?” I could hear her inhale from her cigarette. I wasn’t going to respond to her bitchy tone.