Dare Me by Ella Frank
Bash
“ALL RIGHT, MADONNA, how about you get down before you break your neck.” Shaw put his arm around my waist and grabbed my hand. As he pulled me down off the chair, the rest of the guys laughed and began to clap.
“You’re no fuuun. I wasn’t gonna faaall.” I pouted, not ready to cut off my performance so quickly. I shimmied, the song playing in my mind changing to something more upbeat. “All right, who’s up for ‘Like a Virgin’?” I went to climb back up on the chair, but Shaw dragged me down again.
“If you need a stage, make it on the ground, yeah?”
I rolled my eyes and gripped the empty bottle of champagne I’d been using as a microphone even tighter. “Then it wouldn’t be a stage. Trent, my sweet honeybee, can you please back me up on this? Would you perform without some”—I waved my hand with a flourish—“elevation?”
Trent looked between me and Shaw and held his hands up. “I’m not choosing sides here, but you were very entertaining, Bash.”
“Oh come ooon.” I rounded the table and perched on top of his lap, throwing my arms around his neck. “I’ve known you longer than he has, so your allegiance should be to me.”
“Uh oh,” Lucas said, winking at Shaw. “Looks like you’ve got competition.”
“Hush, Sully boy, I don’t want to sleep with him. I just want him to admit he’s danced around on stage after drinking lotsss of champagne.”
Trent chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t dance on stage.”
“Dance, grind, whatever you call it.”
“And I don’t drink champagne before a show.”
“Ugh, champagne, whiskey, cheap beer, you know what I mean. You can’t tell me you’ve been sober at all of your shows. That’s not very rock-star-like.”
“Course not. I can’t remember half the shows I did before I left the band.”
“Thank yooou.” I kissed his cheek and hopped off his lap, but I moved a little too fast and stumbled into the table. All of a sudden the giggles were back, and I couldn’t make them stop as I righted myself. “I’m fine. Perfect. Faaantabuloso. Please no one get up.”
“Except for Kristopher,” Jackson said with a smirk.
“Kieran. But I see what you did there, naughty boy. Tsk tsk.” I wagged my finger at him as I headed back to my seat, where, whether Shaw liked it or not, a rousing performance was coming up, but perhaps on the table this time.
Just as I grabbed the back of my chair, fully intending to use it as a stepstool, I stopped suddenly, my eyes latching on to a figure standing inside the doorway leading out to the balcony, watching me.
My lips parted as I stood there unmoving, my mind trying to catch up with what I saw before me—or should I say whom.
No… There was no way I was seeing this right. The man looking at me wasn’t Kieran, he was just some stranger I was projecting Kieran’s head onto. Right down to the sling holding his left arm, because of course I’d visualize that too, since the last time I saw him, Kieran was wearing one.
Wow, okay, maybe I’d had enough champagne now.
“Bash? You okay?”
With my eyes still locked on the vision I’d dreamed up, I nodded at Jackson’s question. That was when the stranger with Kieran’s face frowned and I felt my jaw hit the floor.
Hold on, this wasn’t real…was it?
“Does anyone else see a really gorgeous man that looks like Kieran standing by the door, or am I going crazy?” I said.
As the guys all turned in his direction, I heard one of them curse, and then Shaw said, “Uh, Bash? I think that is Kieran. But he doesn’t look too happy to see you.”
Oh shit. This couldn’t be happening.
“He’s heading this way,” Jackson said under his breath.
Not looking at all pleased, Kieran crossed over to our table, stopping right in front of me as I lost my tongue.
“Looks like you’re having a great time. Stupid me for thinking you left Chicago upset when here you are, having a party.”
I blinked as I stared up at his ridiculously handsome face, still trying to comprehend that Kieran—my super-hot, brave firefighter lieutenant—was standing in front of me. Not only that, but he sounded pissed. Not exactly the indifference I’d expected at my departure.
Okay, this had to be a drunk illusion brought on by one too many glasses of the bubbly.
I was about to deflect and say something brilliantly witty, of that I was sure, but before I could locate my tongue, I heard the chair beside me shift as Shaw got to his feet. Kieran’s eyes drifted over my shoulder. I whipped my head around, and when the room began to spin a little faster, I steadied myself with a hand to the table.
Shaw glanced down at me, no doubt making sure I wasn’t going to fall on my ass, and held out his hand to Kieran.
“Hey, I’m Shaw. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you’re the elusive Kieran?”
Or the beautiful, muscular, clearly annoyed Kieran.
Kieran gave a short nod and took Shaw’s hand, and seeing him this close to me again caused a sudden rush of heat to lick over my body.
Or maybe that was the alcohol.
“Yeah, that’d be me. At least someone at the table knows who I am. And remembers my name.”
“Excuse me, lieutenant,” I said. “I know exactly what your name is.”
Seemingly, that was the response Kieran had been after. He dropped Shaw’s hand and looked me dead in the eye. “I wasn’t so sure, since you seemed to be dodging it on your phone like it was a spam caller.”
“Oh shit, that was a burn.”
I turned my best death glare in Lucas’s direction. “Oh hush. You don’t get an opinion. You didn’t even think he was real.”
Lucas sat back in his chair, gave Kieran a once-over, and shrugged. “Still seems a little convenient, if you ask me. How do we know this guy isn’t someone you paid to pretend he’s your fireman fantasy?”
I could feel the color drain from my cheeks. I was going to have my private chef flambé Lucas for dinner.
“If he was an actor, I’d be paying him to look at me like he adored me, not like I was a bug under his shoe,” I said.
Kieran ran his eyes over me. “And if you hadn’t run away, maybe I’d be looking at you like I adored you.”
“I didn’t run anywhere. I flew first class.”
“Same thing.”
As the table fell silent, tension simmered in the air, and Shaw decided to ease it by holding out the basket of fruit.
“Have you eaten already?” he asked. Oh help me, Betsy, I already knew what was coming. “Would you like a peach? Maybe a banana?”
Kieran frowned and looked at the bowl of fruit, but then he nodded and shrugged and reached for, yep, the banana.
Trent snickered. Kieran looked in his direction, stopped, and did a double take. His jaw fell open.
Now, I’m not the jealous type, but was it so wrong that I wished that had been his reaction upon seeing me? But then again, Trent Knox was…Trent Knox.
“Hey, man.” Trent gave a modest wave, as world-famous rock stars do, and I rolled my eyes.
“Uh…” For the first time since walking up to the table, Kieran lost some of his composure.
“Yes, yes, it’s Trent Knox,” I said. “Don’t pay him too much attention or it’ll go to his head.”
“Don’t you mean or you’ll get jealous?” Lucas piped up.
“You’re friends with Trent Knox?” Kieran looked around my shoulder again and shook his head. “What am I saying, of course you are.”
“That’s right, of course I am. But that’s not really all that important, now, is it?”
“Gee, thanks,” Trent said, and I waved him off.
“What’s important is, what are you doing here?” I asked.
Kieran nodded and slipped his good hand into his pocket. Then he looked to the guys all sitting at the table, watching the two of us as though we were the entertainment for the afternoon.
Bet they wished we were on a stage now.
“I think you know why I’m here.”
I knew why I wished he were here, but that seemed a little too good to be true. Especially given his current mood. “Honestly, I have no idea. I thought we’d said our—”
“If you say goodbyes, I’m gonna lose my shit. You said, and I quote, ‘I’ll see you around, lieutenant.’ And then, oh look at that, you were nowhere around. So this seems like a pretty good place to see each other again.”
My foolish heart thumped a little harder. Did he even hear himself and how that sounded? He’d wanted to see me again? What did that even mean?
This? A date? More than a date?
My emotions were all over the place, confusion, excitement, and guilt vying for the top spot, but the cool, calm, rational side of myself had been drowned by the champagne. I looked to my friends for some kind of assistance, but they were all staring at us with mouths agape.
“Uh, Kieran, is it? I’m Jackson.” When Jackson clearly got the message, he rose to his feet and moved to grab an empty seat. I almost hugged him. I knew I was acting out of sorts and would likely hear about it for years to come, but right now I appreciated the assist. “Why don’t you take a seat here? Order some food. The Overlook makes a mean French toast, and by the time it gets here, maybe Bash will have regained his ability to form full sentences.”
I took that back—I appreciated nothing.
Kieran sat down at the table, then he gestured to my seat, looked up at me, and mouthed, Dare you.
