Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
___
Thankfully, my brain seems to recover with some time away from him.
I get back to my usual routine of getting a head start on my homework during lunch. A bespectacled kid comes over to my table, blushing beneath his freckles as he hands me my car keys.
I expect he’s one of Dare’s nerd soldiers.
My suspicions are confirmed when I look at Dare’s table and see him watching to make sure his delivery arrives.
My lips tug up. I can’t help it. He’s so shameless.
Shifting my gaze back to the messenger, I say, “Thank you.”
The kid blushes even harder. He swallows, looking like he’d rather die than repeat what he’s about to say, but he mumbles, “He also wanted me to give you this.”
He holds out a scrap of torn notebook paper. I am delighted and a little stunned to see Dare has written his phone number on it.
Who does that?
I know he has my phone number, so I’m surprised he would give his to me in such an archaic way.
Then again, Dare employs an army of nerds to do his menial labor instead of picking on them, so I guess he really just does things his own way.
I love that he doesn’t fit the mold he occupies. I like to think he’s a benevolent king who is nice to his laboring serfs, too.
“Thank you,” I say again.
“There’s a present for you in the car. It’s from Dare.” He utters that last part like he’ll explode if he doesn’t deliver the message fast enough, then he hustles away without another word.
A bit wryly, I wonder if Dare put the present there himself or had his messenger do it, but I probably already know the answer.
Since his attention is divided between watching me and his friends at his table, I have to wait a few seconds for Dare’s gaze to shift back to me. I do a mock bow and mouth “thank you.” He smirks, and I miss his energy sitting all the way over here.
No.
I cut that line of thinking off straight away and put my head down, burying it in my books. I’ve been so distracted by Dare, so caught up in my whirlwind appearance in his world. But it’s over now, and it’s time to get back to reality.
When the school day is finally over, I head out to the parking lot.
I have to remind myself I’m parked in Dare’s spot right up front. Even though it’s his spot to do with as he pleases, it feels conspicuous walking to my car parked there as a bunch of kids are flooding out of the school behind me.
I don’t know what it says about him, but he’s not remotely sneaky about the shady things he does.
I forgot all about the present he left for me over the course of my last two classes, but I’m reminded when I slide in and go to drop my heavy-ass backpack in the passenger seat. I nearly crush a pink striped gift bag. I catch its weight just as the top of the gift bag dents.
Shifting my target, I drop my school bag farther over on the seat and grab the gift bag, pulling it on my lap so I can see what’s inside.
Layers of white tissue paper obscure the item. I push them aside and see two things—an envelope with my name on it, and a bit of white folded fabric.
I pull the note out first.
The envelope is sealed, so I tear it open. When I go to pull it out, I’m startled to find money stuffed inside along with the note. My stomach twists, a mix of confusion and… I’m not sure what. I count out the fifties in mild disbelief.
He gave me $300?
More perplexed than I was before, I open the note card. The inside is blank but for his writing.
Let’s see how serious you were about that side hustle. ;)
This is the first half.
You’ll get the other 300 after I get a picture of you wearing what’s inside the bag. Nothing else.
What?
Oh, my god.
My cheeks burn as I set aside the card and the money and pull the folded fabric out of the bag.
It’s a pair of white panties. They’re the epitome of purity with soft fabric over the crotch, but lace everywhere else. They even have a little white bow in the center.
He has got to be kidding.
I’m floored. He is out of his mind if he thinks I’m sending him a picture of me in just my panties.
Before I head home, I grab my phone and carefully type in his number from the slip of paper he sent over at lunch.
“You have lost your whole mind if you think I’m doing that,” I text him.
I wait a few seconds to see if he has his phone out, but he’s probably heading to his car or driving home. I put my phone in the cup holder and head to my house, too, but I can’t stop thinking about the panties he bought me and his insane request.