Читать книгу Double Dare You - Cara Lockwood, Cara Lockwood - Страница 11

Two months later

WHAT WAS HE doing here?

Allie Connor froze at the bar, her ruby-red cranberry vodka in the martini glass stopped halfway to her mouth. Liam Beck, looking too damn fine for words, eased through the crowd at the Aspen lodge, seeming like he already owned it in his ruffled-blond, leather-jacket glory, with more than a hint of stubble that said he only marginally cared what anyone thought about his shaving habits. He looked just as cocky as ever, and ridiculously fit, chiseled from free rock climbing, river rafting, snowboarding or whatever extreme thing he could think of to do to his body lately. What crazy-ass thing was he doing now? Bungee jumping without a bungee cord? Free-climbing up cliffs? Jumping into ponds of alligators?

When it came to Liam Beck, anything was possible. And whatever crazy risk he was taking suited him. He looked good enough to eat.

Not that Allie was falling for it. Not this time. Stay in your lane, she told herself. This all happened because you didn’t stay in your lane. She needed a straitlaced nice guy who regularly contributed to his 401(k). Not somebody who liked to hurl his body off snow-covered cliffs with nothing but a snowboard and his wits to save him.

“Trouble, two o’clock,” Allie murmured, pushing up her round, nearly clear-framed glasses, careful not to gaze directly in Liam’s direction again, lest he see her. She half turned, keeping him in her peripheral sights. Some upbeat, too-bright Christmas song floated through the crowd. Behind her sat a roaring fire in a stone fireplace, circled with small pub tables, and to her left a giant bar made of reclaimed wood, old antique iron fixtures hanging from the ceiling giving the pub a modern take on the gold rush times. Allie tried not to think that two months ago she’d had the misfortune of tumbling into Beck’s bed. Or, actually, the tremendous fortune. He’d been—bar none—the best sex she’d ever had in her life.

And then he’d not called her after that weekend. Or texted. Or acknowledged her at all. She might have thought he’d had a horrible skiing accident, except for the pictures of him plastered across social media smiling with a parade of pretty tourists. She’d expected more from the man who’d claimed to be her friend before they’d taken their clothes off. But deep down, she knew she had only herself to blame. She tangled with something wild. Was it a wonder it came back to bite her?

“What the hell?” Allie’s best friend, Mira, frowned as she first saw Beck clap a friend on the back. Beck was six-three and impossible to miss in a crowd, his tawny blond hair and perpetual tan from practically living outside in summer and winter standing out like a beacon. Somehow, he was moving closer. She felt that familiar pull in her chest, as if he’d buried a beacon for himself there, one that lit up only in his presence. Why couldn’t she even stay mad at him? It hardly seemed fair.

“I definitely did not invite him. You know I didn’t.”

“Someone did.” Allie suspected that someone might be Channing, Mira’s roommate, who happened to be secretly hoping for a hookup with one of Aspen’s most famous bachelors. Good luck with that, she thought, as she saw the sleek blonde light up from across the room and squeal Beck’s name. Then again, since when did Beck ever need an invitation anywhere? He was used to showing up to adoration wherever he went. Allie did not have time for this. She sucked another deep drink of her nearly full cocktail and thought about bolting. Was sticking around for a round of free holiday drinks at the resort worth it?

“Maybe I should go.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she felt like a coward. She should be able to be in the same room with him, after all. She’d known what she was getting into that weekend, but she hadn’t cared. That was her mistake.

“Do not let that X Games junkie scare you away from my party.” Mira’s dark eyes flashed with fire. Technically, it was Mira’s boss’s party, the man who owned the upscale Aspen resort, Enclave, where Mira worked as an events coordinator. But Mira had planned and organized the party for Enclave’s various employees. She was running the show tonight. Mira had made sure to add Allie as her plus-one, to take advantage of the holiday party and the free drinks. Allie self-consciously patted her loose bun, finding an errant strand of auburn hair had fallen loose at her temple. She tucked it behind her ear and wondered if Beck would notice the new bright red highlights in her auburn hair, and then hated herself for wondering. I don’t care what he thinks. “You are not moving to Denver because of him, okay?”

Allie was considering a job offer in Denver, one that would take her three hours away by car. An old college friend had reached out on LinkedIn, and the accounting firm had a new position opening in the New Year. She would’ve turned the job down flat two months ago, but since then, she’d started to think maybe a change of scenery would do her good. Maybe getting away from Beck’s gravitational pull would help her heal.

“I haven’t decided about that job yet. I’ve got time. They don’t need the position filled until after the New Year.”

“Don’t let him scare you off,” Mira added.

“I’m not scared,” she hedged. She wasn’t frightened of Beck, exactly. It was more the case that she was scared of herself around him. Of what she might do. Of how she might feel. She hated that, even now, her body responded to the fact that he was in the same room, breathing the same air. As she watched his big shoulders part the crowd, her stomach instantly wound itself into a Gordian knot. Despite the fact that a throng of people blocked him from her, she could still track almost every movement he made, no matter how small. She hated that her whole body seemed tuned to his frequency, a channel she couldn’t seem to change no matter how hard she tried.

Remember what it was like, she told herself, waiting for him to call the morning after. And then the week after, and then the month after. Remember the stupid messages she left, the rambling ones, trying to be cool, but failing miserably. Remember how she spent hours combing over every delicious position she’d shared with him in bed, and then worried that, somehow, she’d come up lacking. And then pretending none of it mattered at all, when, truly, she was horribly heartbroken. Knowing it was all her fault. She knew what Beck was. Local ski and sex god. Gods didn’t wind up with mere mortals like her.

“I just don’t want the hassle.” Allie wished she could be one of those immensely mature adults, the ones who could stay friends with hookups or exes, but Liam wasn’t the kind of man any woman could just be friends with. He exuded pure sexual energy. There literally was no friend zone with him and that was his whole problem. Even when they were “just” friends, she’d harbored a secret crush on the man. She saw, from the corner of her eye, that he’d been cornered by Channing. Good. Let Channing realize she was playing a dangerous game with a man who lived his life with no rules at all. Despite Allie’s better instincts, curiosity got the better of her and she found herself turning toward the couple, and staring directly into Liam’s ice-blue eyes.

Dammit.

Now he’d seen her.

A slow smile crossed his face, amused and almost a little…dangerous. The man knew his own power, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Look away, Allie, for God’s sake. But then she glanced away too quickly, like a rabbit who’d locked eyes with a wolf. Now he’d know he rattled her. She fiddled with the frames of her new glasses, self-conscious.

“Brace yourself. He’s coming over here,” Mira warned as she sipped at her glass of white wine.

“God, no.” The last person on earth she wanted to talk to was Liam Beck. Yet her body vibrated with the excitement of doing just that. Her body, ever her mind’s betrayer. They had never been on the same page as far as Beck was concerned, and might never be.

“Al?” he said, and she felt his baritone in the pit of her stomach, a vibration that tingled all the way down to the crease between her legs. She almost flinched a bit at the sound of her nickname. He’d called her that warmly when they’d been friends, but it took on a new meaning when he’d whispered it in her ear that weekend they’d spent together, naked on the floor of his wood lodge, tangled up on the bearskin rug, the thick wool throw on top of them. The memory of his taut skin against hers, his strong hands on her body, made heat flush her cheeks.

“Get lost, Beck.” Mira narrowed her eyes at him, flicking her black hair over her shoulder. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Allie cringed. Mira’s full-throated defense made her sound like she cared. She didn’t. Not in the least. Her body might, but she told herself that was just pure animal instinct. Lust, really. What straight woman didn’t lust after Liam Beck? But human beings were made of higher stuff than just base instinct, thankfully. Allie shot her friend a glance, but Mira was focused on Beck, her head tilted up, her shoulders squared. Not that the five-foot-three, part-Asian former marathon runner could do much against him, but the warning look in her eyes told Allie she’d try if she needed to.

“Is that so?” A grin split Beck’s face, as if he was mulling over a joke at her expense. He probably was. Could he see the blush? Would he know he caused it? Of course he would. He thought everything was about him. She glanced upward at his perfectly chiseled features, reminded again that he was one of the few men so much taller than her. At five-ten, she never felt tiny. Except around Beck.

“I don’t really care, actually.” Allie congratulated herself on sounding pretty even-keeled. Bored, even. She sipped her drink and deliberately looked away from Beck, using all of her willpower to drag her attention away from those powerful blue eyes. She could still feel him studying her, the attention feeling like the heat of the summer sun on her face. What did he think of her hair? Worn up in a loose, messy bun? Or her new glasses? Did he notice that she’d lost ten pounds since that ominous weekend? She knew it was silly to be so affected by two days at a lodge, but there it was. After Beck cut her from his life, Allie had trouble choking down food. She had trouble sleeping. She had trouble doing everything. But day by day, week by week, she’d gotten better.

“New glasses?” he asked her. He’d noticed. That was something.

“Yeah,” she said and nodded.

“I like them.” She beamed in the compliment and then mentally berated herself. Why did she care if he liked her glasses? His gaze flicked downward, slowly, taking in her tight cashmere sweater and skinny jeans, paired with a sky-high pair of stiletto boots. Impractical for the Aspen weather, but necessary for navigating the single scene. “You look…thin, Al.”

She heard the note of concern in his voice. As if he had a right to be concerned. Aspen was a small place, and so avoiding her for the last two months took some doing. He’d been almost surgical in his precision. So it was clear that he’d done it on purpose. So why did he care how she was now? She glanced up at him and wished she hadn’t. A little worry line etched his forehead, marring his otherwise perfect skin. He almost looked as if he truly cared. That, she knew, would be her undoing. “You doing okay?”

The air felt suddenly thin then, and she knew it had nothing to do with the altitude, even though they were perched probably somewhere around 8,000 feet high in the Rocky Mountains. She’d lived in Aspen for years, and the altitude never got to her. Her sudden light-headedness had everything to do with Beck.

“Al?” he prodded, and Allie realized she’d not answered his question. She was busy just staring at him like a fool. Her baser instincts had taken over, clearly, her body in control. But her brain wasn’t going to tolerate it for long. It hummed the truth: it was none of his damn business how she was doing. He hadn’t cared two months ago, so why should he now? He was the one who’d run away. She wanted to ask why, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“I’m fine.” There was an edge to her voice, one she hadn’t intended. Unable to handle the weight of his gaze any longer, she looked away. She tried to find something—someone—more interesting at the bar but failed. Even the moderately cute-ish bartender with the floppy brown hair and the lopsided grin who kept sending looks her way suddenly paled in comparison to Beck. His massive shoulders, the easy way he held the beer he was drinking, the bottle looking small in his huge hands, like a doll’s plaything. She looked at the bartender, even though all of her other senses were completely focused on Beck, standing less than two feet from her. She could almost feel his body heat through the T-shirt he wore beneath his worn leather bomber jacket. His defined pecs begging to be stroked beneath the thin cotton fabric. Why did he have to look so damn…delectable? She suddenly hated Beck and his stupid muscles and the caring look on his face. His just-rolled-out-of-some-model’s-bed sex appeal. Remember, he probably did. That musky, manly scent coming from him was probably just stale sex.

The thought jolted her to the present. He was a walking rabbit hole. One step too close and she’d fall in again.

“Beck!” squealed Channing, as the tiny blonde bounced up to the three of them and locked her arm inside his. She was wearing a ridiculous Santa hat and a red corset top that she was practically spilling out of and too-thick false eyelashes that made it look like spiders were crawling across her eyelids. Trying too hard, Allie thought. She knew Beck well enough to know he hated that. One of his biggest turnoffs. Channing didn’t even acknowledge Allie or Mira, choosing instead to tug her prize away from them. “You have to meet my boss. She’s right over there. She’s the one I told you about. The one who books tours.”

At the sound of possible new business, Beck’s interest diverted from Allie to Channing. Not that he needed new business. His extreme mountain tours and heli-skiing excursions were the best in Aspen. Everyone knew that. At the height of tourist season, he had to turn away customers. Everybody wanted to go on a ski expedition with the two-time silver medal Olympic champion. Few people seemed to care if he had a death wish, always pushing things a bit harder, a bit farther than he should. Channing glanced at Allie. “Don’t waste time here. Come on.” Before she left, she turned and murmured “Greenie” beneath her breath. Allie wasn’t even sure she’d heard right. Greenie? What the hell did that mean?

Channing pulled Beck through the crowd, and he went, casting one more look over his shoulder. Concern once more on his face. Don’t fall for it, she told herself. He’s not really worried. It’s all just part of the game.

“Good riddance,” Mira almost spit, glaring at his retreating figure.

“What does ‘Greenie’ mean?” Allie asked Mira, who glanced at her, suddenly looking guilty.

“Nothing,” Mira said, but she bit her lip, a telltale sign she was lying. Allie had known Mira for years, and she was one of the first people she’d met in Aspen.

“You know what it means.”

Mira hesitated. “Well…”

“Spit it out.” Now Allie was beginning to be frustrated. It had to be bad, because Mira was stalling. The strand of hair popped loose from Allie’s ear, and she twirled it around her finger. Suddenly, she felt anxious.

“Well…look, I saw somebody’s Snap about you. It was one of Beck’s…friends.” She said it with disdain, so Allie knew she meant one of the many women rotating through his bedroom. “I guess…well, I guess someone—I don’t even know who, actually—gave you a nickname.” Mira took a deep breath. “Greenie, as in a green run.”

“What does a bunny hill have to do with me? I’m a decent skier.” She wasn’t an Olympic champion, but she was a black-diamond skier. She’d been skiing for years and thought she was pretty good.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with skiing,” Mira said. “They mean that you play it safe.”

She was an accountant born in a family of non-risk-taking accountants. Of course she played it safe. The only risky thing her parents ever did was occasionally go about two miles over the speed limit. Her parents had raised her to be afraid of almost everything: strangers, trampolines, drugs, driving too fast in the rain, and the list went on and on.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Allie challenged.

“Well, nothing—except when you’re in bed.”

“Wait… You mean…”

Mira gave her a knowing look and the full realization hit Allie. Beck thought she was boring in life and in bed. Plain Jane. Greenie? The unfairness of it felt like a slap. She was not boring in bed, at least she didn’t think she was with Beck. In that damn lodge, she’d done things with him that she’d never done with anyone else. But maybe Beck’s pulse had barely ticked up a notch. Oh, God. Maybe that was why she’d never heard from him again. Maybe…she’d bored him so much he ran away.

She felt a deep, stinging embarrassment, and heat rushed through her from her nose to the roots of her hair. Had he measured her against the dozens and dozens of other women he’d taken to his bed and found her wanting? Had the best sex in her life…turned out to be the worst for him? She felt a hard, slick pit at the bottom of her stomach, an oily nauseating mess. She suddenly badly wanted the floor of the bar to open up and swallow her whole.

“But you’re not. You know that, right? You are not boring.” Mira was babbling now, trying to comfort Allie in a rush. “You’re badass awesome, and if he can’t see that, then screw him. Who cares what he thinks or anybody else thinks? I know you’re amazing and fun, and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. You are one of the most exciting and dynamic people I know. If he can’t see that, then he’s blind.”

“I can’t believe he thinks I’m boring.” She felt…crushed. Completely and utterly crushed. She wanted to run home—immediately. Or she needed to drink. Literally everything in this bar. She grabbed her cocktail and took a huge gulp.

“On the bright side, do you know how many women in Aspen would kill to get a nickname from Liam Beck? Even a bad one?” Mira was just grasping at desperate jokes, trying to make her feel better, but Allie felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. At the very least, she’d thought Beck had been…her friend. Friends didn’t treat friends like this. It felt like one more betrayal. “Oh, geez. I’m making this worse.” Mira shook her head. “Look, do not let him into your head like this. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Who cares what he or any of his loser groupies say?”

Allie did. She wished she didn’t, but she did. It was that simple. The worst part was that, deep down, she didn’t believe it was true. She’d seen Beck’s face when he’d come; she’d looked right into the man’s eyes. He didn’t look bored. He looked…electric, enthralled, completely and utterly focused on her. And would a bored man have gone back for seconds…thirds…and fourths? It seemed like his frantic want had matched hers, that he’d needed it as much as she had.

But maybe she’d read him all wrong.

After all, he hadn’t called her. On the contrary, he’d deliberately avoided her. And now…that damn nickname. Greenie. She wasn’t timid or boring or any of those things. She might be an accountant raised by helicopter parents, but she wasn’t a mouse. She glanced over at Beck and saw him throw back his head and laugh, his teeth almost too white against his tanned face. Maybe he and Channing were laughing at her right now.

“I think I should go.” Allie didn’t want to run scared, but she also didn’t want to be in a room anymore with Liam Beck.

“Stop that right now,” Mira commanded and snapped her fingers near Allie’s face. Once more, her attention was on her best friend. “Don’t let him ruin your night. You hear me?”

“He can’t ruin my night,” Allie said. “Not if I don’t let him.”

“That’s my girl,” Mira said, her dark eyes fierce. She glanced over at the bartender, and her face lit up. “Why not get your mind off Liam Beck. I know!”

“What?”

“Go kiss that bartender.” Mira nodded over at the floppy-haired server who had a silver martini shaker high above his head. He was no Beck, but he was cute. Kind of. In a slightly-out-of-shape, cuddly way. But, on the bright side, he probably wasn’t the type to go free-climbing up one of the highest peaks in the Rockies, without even the thought of a harness. The bartender was one hundred percent nonthreatening. Not like Beck, whose flick of a single eyebrow offered a whole menu of dangerous options. The bartender did have kind eyes, and Allie liked the flannel shirt he wore. He seemed nice. Maybe after Beck, nice was what she needed. Though, her body rebelled at the thought. Her body didn’t want nice.

“I couldn’t,” she said, laughing self-consciously.

“Why not? I bet he won’t think you’re boring. Because you’re not. You will knock his socks off.”

“No, I won’t!” Allie laughed.

“I dare you.” Mira’s red lips slipped into a devious grin. “I double dare you.”

“Mira. Come on. We’re not in third grade.” She didn’t need to prove anything. She knew who she was. But she also knew that the one weekend she’d spent with Beck had kept her head spinning for two months straight. Nothing quite seemed normal.

“No, and hold that thought—my boss wants something.” Mira nodded over to a dark-haired man in his forties who was signaling her. “Probably wants to make sure we have extra bottles of his favorite champagne. I’ll be right back. Meantime… Get on that bartender, would you?”

Allie was tempted. She glanced over at Channing, who was practically rubbing herself on Beck like a cat.

Why the hell not? How did she even know if she didn’t like “nice” until she tried it? Maybe the cure for Beck was to hop into bed with his exact opposite. And she was no coward. She wasn’t going to let Beck run her out of the bar. That would mean he won.

“Well, then.” Allie took a deep breath and slipped off her new glasses, putting them in her pocket. “Looks like I’m going to do this.”

“Atta girl,” Mira called over her shoulder.