Sweet Cheeks(42)

“Go?”

“Yes. Go. It’ll be easier if you think of this whole trip as an adventure rather than their wedding.”

“And what? You’re my tour guide?”

“If that’s what you want to call me. I prefer cruise director though, considering we’re kind of stuck with the nautical theme, Ships.” He winks and holds his hand out.

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes.

“Or captain.”

“You’re certifiable, you know that?” I shake my head and he pulls on my hand to help me stand.

“Quite possibly, but all that matters is I’m in charge of this schedule, and we need to get a move on it. Your adventure awaits.”

“And, oh captain, my captain, that adventure is what?” I drag my feet like a child, curious what he’s talking about but smiling nonetheless.

“Do you actually think I’m going to tell you?” He dazzles me with that smile I can’t resist. “Didn’t you know? Spontaneity is the best kind of adventure.”

Oh. Shit.





“No way. Uh-uh.” I try to step away but my back hits the unyielding wall of Hayes’s front. We’re pressed body to body and panic flickers through me.

“Remember what I said.” His voice is warm against my ear.

Spontaneity is the best kind of adventure, my ass. I tried to do this once before. On a double-dog dare at the age of sixteen. From him.

I turn around, a blatant rejection of Hayes’s idea of spontaneous fun. Of the stage before me, the people sitting in chairs around it, and the microphone and screen that will hold lyrics.

And yet when I do turn, I run smack dab into every long, lean, firm inch of him. My body reacts immediately to the feel of his. Hair stands up on the base of my neck. My nipples press against the smooth fabric of my bra and are more than aware of the warmth of his chest. My muscles tense everywhere.

All I can do is suck in my breath when his eyes hold mine. They’re full of the same mischief that paints his smile. “Remember that time at Wild Irish?”

“How could I forget?” Sneaking in the back door of the local bar a few towns over, feeling like we were so cool. The anxiety of being caught in a bar underage making the night that much more exhilarating. Hayes’s dare to go put my name in, take the stage, and perform a song of his choosing.

“Remember how much you had to psych yourself up to do it?” he murmurs. I can smell the hint of Red Stripe on his breath.

These are treacherous waters.

But it’s The Captain leading me into them.

I laugh. My body hums with awareness. He hasn’t stepped away. Hasn’t broken the connection between our bodies. And yet it’s probably because it’s crowded and he wants me to hear him. Regardless, every jostle of someone bumping into one of us, makes the awareness that much more.

“I remember. I spent all night freaked about it and just as I was walking up to the stage—”

“Principal Hellman walked up right before you.”

We both laugh at the memory. At how I scurried back to the table in the far, darkened corner of the club before leaving shortly thereafter.

“My God, I was so freaked out we were going to get detention or worse if Hell’s Bells saw us there.”

Our laughter fades. Somewhere in the moment we’ve stepped apart when the crowd has given us room to. “So what do you say, Ships?”

“To what?” I feign nonchalance but worry my bottom lip between my teeth.

“You never finished the dare.” He shrugs. Taunts me with a smile and a glance of his gaze to the stage and then back to me.

“Seriously?”

“You were never one to chicken out before.” Words to match his smile.

“We’re not teenagers anymore, Hayes,” I huff but know he’s starting to win me over. That sheepish grin and impish gleam in his eye reminding me of the fearless, carefree girl I used to be. The one who never backed down from one of his or Ryder’s dares.

He leans in, mouth to my ear. “I double-dog dare you, Saylor.”

My smile is instant. My reaction is half-hearted. “You know I can’t sing for shit,” I shout above the music that just started playing again. His hands are on my shoulders, directing me toward the stage, the melodic tone of his laugh in my ear.

“Perfect. There’s nothing better than an off-key karaoke singer to catch everyone’s attention.”

I want to strangle him, and yet I find myself laughing instead. I grab his hand, and his falter in motion tells me I’ve caught him off guard. “If I’m going to make an ass out of myself, you are too.”

I’m surprised when he stumbles along behind me. “Did you forget I like when everyone’s looking at me?”