“I’m Adair DuBray,” he tells me, like he’s bestowing a gift or an honor. “But everyone calls me Dare.”
I’ve never seen a name so fitting. So French, so sophisticated, yet his accent is British. He’s an enigma. An enigma whose e
yes gleam like they’re constantly saying Dare me. I swallow.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell him, and that’s the truth. “Why are you here in the hospital? Surely it’s not for the coffee.”
“You know what game I like to play?” Dare asks, completely changing the subject. I feel my mouth drop open a bit, but I manage to answer.
“No, what?”
“Twenty Questions. That way, I know that at the end of the game, there won’t be any more. Questions, that is.”
I have to smile, even though his answer should’ve annoyed me. “So you don’t like talking about yourself.”
He grins. “It’s my least favorite subject.”
But it must be such an interesting one.
“So, you’re telling me I can ask you twenty things, and twenty things only?”
Dare nods. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Fine. I’ll use my first question to ask what you’re doing here.” I lift my chin and stare him in the eye.
His mouth twitches again. “Visiting. Isn’t that what people usually do in hospitals?”
I flush. I can’t help it. Obviously. And obviously, I’m out of my league here. This guy could have me for breakfast if he wanted, and from the gleam in his eye, I’m not so sure he doesn’t.
I take a sip of my coffee, careful not to slosh it on my shirt. With the way my heart is racing, anything is possible.
“And you? Why are you here?” Dare asks.
“Is that your first question? Because turn-about is fair play.”
Dare smiles broadly, genuinely amused.
“Sure. I’ll use a question.”
“I brought my brother. He’s here for… group therapy.”
I suddenly feel weird saying that aloud, because it makes my brother sound less than somehow. And he’s not. He’s more than. Better than most people, more gentle, more pure of heart. But a stranger wouldn’t know that. A stranger would just slap him with a crazy label and let it be. I fight the urge to explain, and somehow manage not to. It’s not a stranger’s business.
Dare doesn’t question me, though. He just nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
He takes a drink of his coffee. “I think it’s probably kismet, anyway. That you and I are here at the same time, I mean.”
“Kismet?” I raise an eyebrow.
“That’s fate, Calla,” he tells me. I roll my eyes.
“I know that. I may be going to a state school, but I’m not stupid.”
He grins, a grin so white and charming that my panties almost fall off.
“Good to know. So you’re a college girl, Calla?”
I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about why you think this is kismet. But I nod.