The Dare - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 44

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"After all, doctors don't graduate high school and start performing surgeries! They need expertise. So do sexers."

"Is that what they're called?" I shouldn't have asked, but my curiosity was destroying me.

"Yes." Grandma nodded. "Sexers. But like I said, I wasn't a chicken sexer, per se. I sexed the feathers."

Jace pursed his lips together. "You… sexed the feathers?"

"How does one—"

"Beth." Jace started coughing wildly.

"Oh dear!" Grandma reached for the kettle. "Do you need more tea?"

"No!" Jace and I said in unison.

"Sleep." Jace yawned. "Beth will take care of me. Promise."

She turned just as Jace brought the cup back from his lips and held it out. "Well, good job!"

He beamed.

I rolled my eyes behind Grandma.

"Now, I'll leave you to sleep. Beth, if his throat keeps getting sore, be sure to make him a mustard sandwich with onions. It's hell when you wanna kiss your honey goodnight, but it works like a charm. Ta-ta!" She took her tray and left.

"I think she just killed my stomach." Jace burped and then groaned. "Holy shit, it tastes like chicken feathers. I'm dying! She poisoned me!"

"Stop being dramatic. She was just trying to help."

"No, that woman is a lunatic!" he yelled. "Chicken feathers? Sexing chickens? She was trying to call our bluff! Need I remind you that she put Viagra in my tea?"

"Well you showed her," I said dryly. "So brave."

"Tell me, Captain Jack, where's the rum?"

"Arrgh."

"Nice." Jace laughed. "You sound like a pirate with a cold, and, by the way, your accent sounded like a cross between an Australian and very confused Canadian. Good job, eh?"

"I hate you."

"You nicknamed me Thor — you love me." He grinned. "Thanks for taking care of me, by the way, and for helping me kill the plant."

I should have slit his throat when I had the chance; instead, I picked up a feather.

"Thirsty?"

"Are you threatening me?" He seemed amused at the prospect.

"Yes, better be on your best behavior, or I'm calling Grandma in to nurse you back to health."

"She'd kill me."

"I know."

"My death would be on your hands."

"I'm aware of that."

"Asphyxiation via feathers."

I smirked. "Oregon State Senator Jace Brevik found dead in Hawaiian hut, surrounded by chicken feathers and Viagra."

His amusement faded before my very eyes. "You don't think she put more… stuff in my tea do you?"

"Why?" I scooted across the bed and lay down next to him. "You feeling inspired again?"

"Inspired makes it sound like I'm rarely inspired, which is ridiculous because I'm inspired a hell-of-a-lot more than usual."

"Maybe it's me," I offered. "Then again, it could be the chickens."

"Not the chickens, not the pool toys, not any of those things." He reached for my hand and sighed. "I'm sorry, you know."

"For what?"

"Everything."

The room was completely silent except for my stupid heart as it rammed against my chest. He kept holding my hand, and I wondered if it was because he wanted to give me the fairytale, or if it was because he actually wanted to hold it.

"I shouldn't have run," Jace whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"Prom." He squeezed my hand harder and then pulled me into his lap. "I should have stayed."

"And done what?" I laughed nervously. "Fought for my honor?"

"Something like that."

He dipped his hand into my hair and ran that same warm hand down my neck, sending chills to my toes.

"It was never that I didn't want to fight — I just hate letting people down. In theory, it sounds good. I don't like people being disappointed in me, but that's only partially the truth. I hate disappointment, but it's only by those I deem worthy of approval in the first place. And because I didn't know you, other than the taste of your lips and heat of your mouth, it wasn't worth it to me. You weren't worth it."

"Are you trying to make me cry?" My chest felt like an elephant had just decided to camp on it and invited all his friends and family.

Jace's eyes softened. "I'm trying to apologize."

"Try harder," I urged.

"Second chances are rare."

"Unless you're Grandma and have God's ear. Then you have as many chances as she allows, until she kills you herself."

"True."

What was happening, exactly? Was he apologizing for high school, or was he apologizing for now? And why was he looking at me like I'd just declared my undying love for him? Yes. I liked him, possibly loved him now that I'd gotten to know him, but it was more of an irritating love. The kind that pokes you until you finally give up and accept your fate. And I wasn't ready to admit anything yet, especially to the one guy I knew would be walking away from me in a few days.

"You're my second chance." Bomb officially dropped.

I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to cry tears of joy or slap him in the face. His grin was cocky, as if I should be thankful that he was finally bleeding his feelings all over the place. I wasn't thankful. I was irritated. Irritated that his epic speech wasn't that he couldn't live without me, but that I'd finally worn him down, like some sort of cold that takes control of your immune system.

"Say something." He kissed my mouth.

It was a tie between wanting to kiss Thor back or throw him in the bathtub with his hammer on.

"Was that it?" I asked calmly.

"What?"

"Was that the speech?" I pulled away from him and stood.

"No?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"Um," he scratched his head and looked helplessly around the room, "I thought you liked me."

"Oh, dear Lord." I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Of course, I like you. Of course, I believe in second chances, and I accept your apology for partially getting us caught in this fiasco. But Jace," I fought to keep my voice even, "girls don't work that way."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't just give us the words and expect a pat on the ass and a cookie."

"How about just a pat on the ass." He smirked.

"Be serious!" I almost stomped my foot. Good one. "You expect me to fall all over myself because you said sorry? You expect sex because you want a second chance, yet you haven't even told me why you want one. You said you were walking away in a few days. Is that still true?"

Jace stood and reached for me, his hands digging into my shoulders as he pulled me into his embrace. "That depends on you."

"What? So we play at being madly in love, and if it ends up being true, you don't walk away? But if things don't work out, then what? Then I'm left with a broken heart. Don't you see? The problem isn't the second chance. The problem is you want to have your cake and eat it too. You want to test the waters because you want safe. And I'm sick and tired of safe."

Jace shoved his hands in his pockets, swaying on his feet as if the world had just dropped onto his shoulders. "What do you want?"

"Danger," I snapped. "Spice. Crazy." My lips trembled. "I want crazy. I-can't-get-you-out-of–my-head lust. I want Romeo-and-Juliet-type of love. I want Mr. Darcy to ride his damn horse into my life. Words aren't enough. I need actions too. And I think I deserve it."

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