Elara
"I dare you to go over and kiss that guy sitting by himself, the one drinking his beer."
Why would Jade say something like that to me, right here in a crowded bar? Was it just because I do not have a boyfriend?
Everything seemed to stop. All my friends were watching, waiting for me to do something I would never normally consider. My heart was not just beating fast; it was trying to break out of my chest.
My short skirt rode up as I slid off the bar stool. This was such a bad idea. The material climbed high on my legs, showing everyone far too much. I yanked it back down while my friends laughed. I really, really hated them right then.
I shot a look back at Jade,Iris, and Nadia. They were huddled around our table, their faces bright with the fun of seeing me so uncomfortable. This is what you get for being friends with the cleverest and most mean girls in school. They love to give me the worst dares, saving them for me, the one who is supposed to be fun and pretty.
Jade, the one who started all this, just crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. She was completely serious.
"Why him, out of all the people here?" I had begged them only a minute ago, my voice sounding pathetic.
"I do not know. What sort of man wears sunglasses inside a bar?" she had shot back, as if that was a good enough reason to send me to a complete stranger.
Now, with a quiet groan, I started the walk across the room. The floor felt sticky under my shoes, each step making a nervous sound. I stopped in the middle and pulled the band from my hair, letting it fall down around my shoulders. It was a thing the boys at school seemed to like. I took my time, running my fingers through my hair, but the man at the bar did not lift his head from his drink. His sunglasses were still on, a black wall in the low light.
This is a truly fucking stupid idea.
He stirred his glass with a straw and then put it down without drinking. I opened my mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Usually, men talk to me as soon as I get near. This one gave me nothing at all.
He finally looked at me, just a small turn of his head, and my mouth went dry. I could feel my friends watching me from behind.
"Hi," I said, my voice soft. I cleared my throat and tried again, putting a smile on my face that was not real. "Hello there."
No response. Nothing.
"Hi?" I said, louder this time. Still nothing? Fine. I gave up on being nice and put my hand on his knee.
His head came up fast. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, and I suddenly felt completely seen. His eyes were a cold, clear blue, and they looked right into me, so strong I almost moved away.
I pushed the fear out of my voice. This time, I kept my hands to myself. "So, here is the thing. My friends dared me to come over and kiss you."
That made him focus completely. A small, fast smile appeared on his mouth. That had to be good. "Yes. They are watching us right now."
When he began to turn to find them, I said quickly, "No. Do not look." He slowly pulled his sunglasses back down, hiding those amazing eyes from me. "I will tell you who they are. Just do not look. Or, do not let them see you looking."
After he gave a short, hard nod, I went on, "The table in the back. Three girls. One has blonde hair. One has brown hair. One has red hair." When I said that, his eyes moved up to my pink hair. I had dyed it at the last minute because of an old Nicki Minaj album. Besides, it is a new year, a new term, and I have a stepmother now. The stranger's quiet attention made me so nervous I just kept talking. "It was from the Pink Friday era."
"By Nicki Minaj. She is a good artist," he said, his voice a low sound that I felt inside my chest.
"Right?" A feeling of relief came over me. "People do not give her enough credit." All he did was look back with an empty face, and my brain rushed to fill the quiet. "You are not from around here, are you." He had an accent that did not fit in this place. And he was still looking right at me.
"Am I right, mate?" I said, partly as a joke.
The stranger folded his arms, his muscles moving, and I had to force myself to stay calm. He saw me staring, and the side of his mouth turned up in a little smile. "How old are you?"
"Here." I took my ID from my pocket and held it out for him. He did not take it, did not even try to see my name. "I am nineteen."
"Nineteen?" The way he said it was full of pure doubt.
Really, nineteen is just seventeen with two more years added. "Yes."
In one easy move, he pulled me close, right into the space between his open legs. A hot feeling went up my arm where he held me, and I jumped. My body was clearly very aware of him from the way it felt. He put one arm around my waist to keep me there, his hand on the bare skin of my lower back. My whole body woke up at his touch, and I leaned against him without meaning to. His other hand went under the bottom of my shirt, his thumb making a slow circle on the tender skin of my side. I let out a tiny, breathy sound. I was not wearing a bra, just sticky covers, a fact that now felt very personal.
We looked at each other, and he smiled, a real, understanding smile this time.
"I can give you something much better than a dare," he said, his voice becoming low and private. His moving fingers found the edge of the sticky cover, and a shake went through my whole body. Feeling brave, I cupped the hard shape in his jeans with my hand. He let out a low, hurt sound. Men are all so easy to figure out. So easily turned on.
"My place is just behind this bar. Around the corner." He was right. There was a motel right there that I had never really seen before. "What do you think?"
The alarm bells in my head finally started to go off. I stepped back, putting a lot of room between us. What if he was some kind of murderer?
"How old are you, really?"
"Twenty-one," he told me, his eyes full of pure want.
A seventeen-year-old and a twenty-one-year-old was not a catastrophe. "Let me see your ID."
"No." His hand reached for me again, and I slapped it away. He gave a quiet laugh, a sound as handsome and threatening as he was. "You are just going to have to trust me, sweetheart." One look back at my friends, and I knew I was almost out of time. I just wanted the kiss. And I wanted it from him for me, not for them.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Too late for that." He gave a proud smile. I had given him my name and he would not give me his. Fine. I could play that game too.
I put one finger on his lips. They were much softer than I thought they would be. "No names, Stranger."
He smiled against my finger. "What about my kiss?"
He shook his head, his face serious. "I do not kiss where people can see."
By now, the girls were probably getting restless. A kiss does not take long, and I had already been here for more than ten minutes with nothing to prove it. Going back to the table without that kiss was a waste.
"Well, my friends do not give a single fuck about your rules," I fired back, his proud smile starting to make me angry. I was not going to some stranger's room for a kiss, no matter how stupidly good-looking he was. I put my hands on my hips and stared him right in the eye. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"
His lips touched mine.
It was over before I even knew it had started. The lightest touch, here and then gone.
"Done." He moved back, that annoying smirk back on his face. He winked. "You can go back now, Stranger."
Done? What the hell was that? A sorry kiss? "Go to hell," I said, my face getting hot with embarrassment and rage.
"In my room? Sure." He laughed at his own dumb joke, and the sound bothered me now. He saw the anger on my face, and his look became gentler.
"I can do a much better job in private. I do not like an audience."
I did not say another word. I turned and walked away, my face on fire. I could feel him watching me the whole way back to my friends. I did not let myself turn around for one last look.
I fell into my chair, the plastic groaning under me.
"So?" Jade asked, leaning in close. "How was it? What did he say?"
I picked up my drink and took a long, slow drink. The cold liquid did nothing to put out the fire he had started under my skin. I could still feel the memory of his thumb on my side, the faint mark of his lips.
I looked at my friends, their faces hungry for a good story.
But all I could see was him. The sunglasses. The smirk. The promise in his deep voice.
"He said," I finally told them, my own voice coming out quiet, "that he only kisses when no one else is around."