I Dare You by Lylah James

I took the pumpkin pie out of the oven, fresh and hot, as Gran set the table. The pie, with its walnut crust, was Maddox’s favorite, and I always made sure it was for dessert, as often as I could.

You’d think Gran was feeding an army with all the food, but there were only four of us. She placed her famous pulled pork, made in her newly acquire instant pot, in the middle of the table, as Pops and Maddox joined us. My chest filled with warmth at the sight of the two of them together.

The two most important men in my life. I was just glad they got along so well.

Maddox met my gaze, and the pit of my stomach fluttered. It was some cosmic reaction I couldn’t explain because we didn’t need words; we just looked at each other and smiled.

This was my favorite time of the year. Only because I got to go back home to visit my grandparents since it was Gran’s birthday. It also happened to be Maddox’s favorite too because of two things: food, and, even though he’d never admit it, he loved the feeling of being part of our little family.

Maddox took a seat beside me, and a smile hovered over my lips, when he grasped my hand under the table. After Pops said grace, and before we could dig into our food, Maddox cleared his throat. “Lila and I have something to say.”

My head snapped up, and I dropped my fork onto my plate with a loud clank. The room went utterly silent as my grandparents watched us with wide, curious expressions.

This wasn’t part of the plan! We had agreed to tell my grandparents after, just so we could spend this night in peace. I squeezed Maddox’s hand in warning, but it was too late.

Pops placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward, giving both of us his undivided attention. He was giving us his famous military look; hard, unflinching, and frighteningly serious. “Go on.”

My knees bounced, and I was suddenly glad Maddox had waited until we were sitting down. My gaze flickered around the room, looking for my grandpa’s hunting rifle that was on the wall next to the fireplace. Maybe I should have hid it when I got back home. Oh God!

Gran looked around nervously, as if sensing the growing tension around us.

“Maybe we should eat first,” I stuttered. “We have all the time to talk after dinner, right?”

Pops barely spared me a glance. His hard gaze was fixated on the man beside me – my boyfriend. My soon-to-be-dead boyfriend.

My hands grew clammy, as coldness seeped through my bones. My stomach started cramping, and it was almost worse than period pains.

Maybe if Maddox and I made a run for it–

“Lila and I are dating, Sir.”

Nope. Never mind, we don’t have time to run for it.

“Oh. Is that true, Lila?” Pops asked, still staring Maddox down. Could the ground open up and swallow me, please?

I felt faint and ended up nodding silently, a small, shy nod. Gran came to my rescue. “That’s wonderful news. You two complement each other very well.” She cleared her throat, when Pops didn’t back her up. “How long have you two been dating for?”

“About three months,” Maddox confirmed, his voice steady. How was he not shitting his pants with my grandpa staring daggers into him?

“Lila?” Pops finally leveled me with a look, the same one he’d give me when I was little, and I did something bad, as he waited for me to confess.

But I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

Although I still respected my grandpa, I was a grown woman who was happy with her boyfriend. I straightened my spine and swallowed past the lump in my throat.

He raised me to be confident and strong, whatever the situation was. Sure, my legs still felt weak, like mush, and my lungs were squeezing so tightly I wondered if I was really breathing, but I returned my grandpa’s look with an unflinching one of my own.

“What Maddox said is true. We’ve been dating for about three months,” I said. “Pops, I’m really, very…happy.”

His demeanor changed the moment the word spilled from my lips. He settled back in his chair, and the corner of his lips twitched. Pops gave Maddox and I both a look, one I couldn’t exactly read, before he glanced at Gran. “Took them long enough, don’t you think?”

“Shit,” Maddox muttered under his breath, and he squeezed my hand so hard I thought he was going to break my bones. I grimaced, and it was then I realized he was just as nervous and scared as me.

Gran smiled. “I honestly thought you two were dating for a very long time. We were just waiting for you to tell us.”

My breath expelled from my chest in a loud whoosh, and I went slack against my chair. The tension around the table eased up, and the air became less suffocating. “Wait, so you guys… knew?”

Pops shrugged. “It was a guess before. You confirmed it now.”

“So, you’re okay with this?” I questioned slowly.

“Are you asking for our blessing?” Pops cocked an eyebrow at me, but he was… smiling. “You have it. As long as you’re happy.” I sat there, slack-mouthed. Holy shit, my grandpa, who was a very hard man to impress, was smiling at the fact that I was dating Maddox Coulter. Yeah, I must have fallen into another universe.

He turned to Maddox, his dark eyes hardening. “I don’t have to warn you because you already know what will happen if you ever hurt my little girl. You might be young, healthy and probably stronger, but I can still whoop your ass, Son.”

Maddox laced our fingers together and gave me a gentle squeeze. He returned my grandpa’s stare with one of his own: confident and self-assured, so Maddox. If it wasn’t for how sweaty and clammy his hand was, with a slight twitching in his fingers, I wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was nervous or not.

“Sir, Lila’s happiness means as much to me as it does to you. I know you know that. You raised her and took care of her when she needed you the most. Now, it’s my turn,” he said.

My chest fluttered, and my womb tingled with fuzzy warmth, as the same feeling spread throughout my whole body. I made a sound in the back of my throat, both happy and in warning. “Um, excuse me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

Pops let out a small laugh, and my chest expanded with emotions I couldn’t place. “Good luck, Son. This one is very feisty, just like her grandma.”

Gran blushed, and Maddox chuckled. “Don’t worry. I can handle her.”

The worry I felt before melted away, as we turned to our food. The rest of the dinner was just like any other Thanksgiving. If I had thought announcing our relationship would change anything, I was mistaken.

This was my family.

Three hours later, Maddox and I found ourselves in my room. He was supposed to be sleeping on the couch, but we sneaked him upstairs, after my grandparents went to bed.

“I’m so full, I feel like I’m going to burst.” I patted my stomach, feeling my food baby. I probably gained five pounds from tonight’s dinner. And there was Maddox, still looking fresh and sinfully handsome, like he had just walked out of a Vogue magazine.

I settled on my bed, bouncing on the mattress, as I watched him pull off his shirt in one swift move. He dropped the shirt on the floor and stood there for a second, letting me enjoy the very distracting view.

I took my time to admire him, to truly look at him. His abs clenched as he sauntered over to me. His nipple piercings got my attention next, and I licked my lips, remembering how the silver rods felt on my tongue. My gaze moved up to his wide shoulders that were twice the size of mine and then his face. Sharp jawline that you could probably cut your finger with, full lips, a strong nose with a slight crook – he told me he broke it when he was thirteen years old. Hooded blue eyes, thick eyebrows, with a scar on the left one – he was injured two years ago during a football game.

When he grinned, his dimple popped in his right cheek, a deep indent. His smile was wolfish, looking hungry, as he stood in front of me.

He bent forward, placing his arms on either side of my thighs on the mattress. “Admiring the view, Babe?”

His hot breath caressed my cheek. I had been admiring the view, but I also came to a conclusion.

Maddox wasn't beautiful by definition. Sure, he was hot and sexy...but he was an imperfect canvas, riddled with invisible scars and flaws no one else could see, except me.

That made him imperfectly beautiful.

My hand came up, and I traced a finger around his left pectoral. Maddox tensed as my touch brushed across his nipples. I knew all of his sensitive spots. He loved his throat – especially his prominent Adam’s apple, to be kissed and sucked on. It got him rock hard when I’d scrape my teeth over his nipples.

“Careful, Garcia,” he groaned. “I might be too hot for you to touch, you might end up with a nasty burn.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was extremely cheesy, Coulter. It’s almost nauseating.”

Maddox pushed me onto my back and crawled over me. “What? You prefer my asshole side to my cheesy, romantic side?”

I liked all of his sides. The asshole Maddox; the furious and ugly side of him; the pretty cocky side; and especially, his romantic side. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

Maddox rolled over and took me with him. I settled against his side, burying my head in the crook of his neck. His thumb circled over the flesh of my hips, where my shirt had ridden up and around the waistband of my jeans. We cuddled for what felt like hours and hours. I listened to his breathing and watched his chest rise and fall with every breath.

“Are you ready for your driving test tomorrow?” Maddox finally broke the silence.

My chest squeezed, and it felt like the flesh around my scars had tightened. There was a dull, uncomfortable ache around them – the pain, a ghostly echo. I rubbed a hand over my chest, but my skin was on fire.

I took in a shuddering breath and closed my eyes. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about this, Lila?” Maddox asked softly. I knew he was worried, but he was also the same person who stood by me as I struggled to get into the driver’s seat for the last six months.

He was relentlessly patient with me, as I suffered panic attack after panic attack. It took me a month to finally get myself in the driver’s seat and then another three months for Maddox to teach me how to drive.

I told myself I could do it. as long as he was beside me.

I wanted to conquer my fears, wanted to leave my past behind. Truly and fully move on…

My scars throbbed harder, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

His hands smoothed up and down my back, ever so supportive and gentle. “Yeah, I’m ready. I’m going to pass this test.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second, little dragon.”

Little dragon…

Only Maddox could handle my fire... my scars... my pain... He was the mirror to my soul.

Mylips twitched with a smile, and the fire burning in my chest slowly dissipated.

I never understood why they invited me for dinner when it was going to be like this. Icy cold silence… and they didn’t even acknowledge their son was sitting right there.

Father Dearest sat at the head of the table, while Mommy Dearest and I sat across from each other. She could barely meet my eyes, her focus on her plate, as she very primly cut her steak into little bites.

Brad, my father, didn’t even breathe in my direction. The only sound echoing around the frigid walls of the dining room was our cutlery against our fancy as fuck plates.

My throat closed, and it felt…suffocating.

The difference between my Thanksgiving dinner with Lila’s family and tonight with my own was vast.

I didn’t know why I still fucking tried. I hated this place. Loathed the idea of our ‘perfect family’ to the outside world, while it was anything but. I long gave up on the idea of us being even slightly happy.

My parents’ marriage was probably anything but happy, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out they weren’t even sleeping in the same room.

With a mansion as big as this one, the distance between us grew even bigger. When I used to live here, I was an outsider and a burden.

Now that I had left for Harvard, I was still an outsider. To my parents, I barely existed… except, I was their heir and their legacy to the Coulter’s name and empire. That was probably the only reason why Brad hadn’t disowned me yet.

Yeah, fuck them.

I shoveled my food in my mouth, barely chewing. Swallowing it down with water, I finished my plate, before they were even halfway through theirs.

I pushed my chair out and stood up without a word. My mother’s head snapped up, and her eyes flared in surprise. “You’re leaving?” she stuttered, looking warily between my father and I.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, where was her goddamn backbone?

“Maddox,” she started, but then trailed off. She was looking at me like a sad, lost puppy.

My jaw hardened, and I clenched my teeth. “What?”

“Why don’t you stay for a little while longer? Your father and I–”

I cut in. “Don’t waste your breath, Mother.”

She opened her mouth, but was cut off, when my father started coughing. Her eyes widened, and there was a flash of fear in them, as she jumped to her feet and rushed to his side. He brought his pristine, white handkerchief to his mouth and continued coughing, his chest rattling with the harsh sounds.

“Brad,” Savannah breathed quietly, looking slightly pained.

My fists clenched at my sides, and I fought the urge to run, to walk out of these iron gates and never come back. This place smelled nothing like comfort or joy – it was a death trap.

His coughing fit ceased, and he straightened his back. “Maddox, I want to speak with you. Come to my office,” he said, in his usual hard voice. There was no familiarity or warmth in his words, like a father should speak to his son. He spoke to me like I was one of the people on his goddamn payroll.

He stood up and walked away, without waiting for me to follow. I was already taking a step back, refusing to follow his goddamn orders.

“Please,” Mommy dearest mouthed.

My feet paused, and I cracked my neck, squeezing my lips together. The muscles in my chest tightened, and against my own accord, my legs took me toward my father’s office.

I walked inside to find him sitting behind his desk. He nodded toward the whiskey bottle on the tray. “Have a drink?”

I let out a small, humorless laugh. Yeah, if I had to survive this talk with my father, I definitely needed a fucking drink. I poured a glass full and downed it quickly, feeling the burn in my throat, and my eyes watered.

“I spoke with your coach last week,” he started.

“Keeping tabs on me?” I snorted in amusement.

His eyes hardened. “He said you were one of his best players. That’s good to know.”

Praise… from Brad Coulter? Hmm. I wasn’t about to fall in that trap. I could barely remember the last time my father said something remotely nice to me. I had been… maybe five or six years old? That was almost two decades ago.

He cocked his head to the side. “I heard you’re dating Lila,” he deadpanned. “You didn’t tell us.”

I placed the empty glass on his desk, and my fists clenched. There was a reason why I never brought Lila here. I wanted to keep her far away from the toxicity that was my parents. They didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. “Is this why we’re here? To talk about my dating life? C’mon, Father. That’s beneath you.”

My father was silent for a moment. I didn’t want to play his game, I really didn’t.

I grasped the bottle of whiskey in my hand and took a step back, raising the bottle up in mock salute. “Nice talk, Brad.”

His nostrils flared at the blatant disrespect, but I was already walking away, without waiting for his response. My heart hammered in my chest, my skin crawling and itching with the need to get away from him, from this suffocating place.

His next words halted me, my feet coming to a sudden stop.

“Don’t hurt her.”

My back snapped straight, and I swiveled around to face him, a low snarl on my lips. “I would never,” I hissed. “I’m not you.”

He stood up, calmly, and it grated my nerves. I hated the pacifying look on his face, like he actually FUCKING CARED.

“No, Maddox. You’re not me,” my father agreed, almost like he was relieved about that idea. “But you also don’t realize you’re on the path of self-destruction. You’ll end up hurting Lila in the end, Son. And do you know who will hurt the most? You.”

Fury burned through my veins like acid. My blood roared furiously in my ears; it was almost deafening. The sick feeling in my stomach was back, and I fought the urge to throw up. In the moment, I didn’t even realize he called me son. I was too angry, filled with so much loathing at the person who was supposed to be my dad.

Lila was the one good thing in my fucking life.

And he wanted me to give her up.

If, for one second, I thought my father cared… that brief notion was gone, before it even fully came to be.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind,” I sneered, before stalking away.

My mother was outside the door, and I walked into her, practically slamming into her small frame. Her eyes blurred, and she reached for me, but I side-stepped her.

“Maddox,” she called out.

I didn’t stop, didn’t pause, until I was out of the iron gates.

I was done listening.

Done trying to be the son they wanted.

I. Was. Fucking. Done.