Forty-five minutes later Lauren sat in her car, around the corner from Jeni’s house, at war with herself.
You’re not doing anything wrong.
This is a bad idea.
You’re spending the holiday with friends.
You shouldn’t be doing this.
She was on unfamiliar ground, and she didn’t like it. She’d never snuck out of her dad’s house. She’d never gotten a speeding ticket or been arrested. Never got caught drinking before she turned twenty-one. Kept an honest approach to school—did her own work and never cheated her way through a test.
In all honesty, she never understood those who were rule-breakers and risk-takers. She’d never had the desire to do something that seemed wrong or questionable, and it had never been a temptation.
Until now.
She rubbed her face with both hands and groaned. What was her deal? She shouldn’t be here. So why had she taken a shower, carefully arranged her hair into a messy bun, and chosen a shirt that brought out her eyes?
Because she was weak. And because she wanted to. She wanted to spend the evening with Andrew and Jeni.
And she wasn’t going to back down from her end of the bet.
We be-lung together.
She was disappointed in herself for allowing those words to push her mind off course. She was being stupid. His silly game threw her off, when it didn’t mean anything. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to get involved with him. She’d followed her heart once for a ridiculously handsome guy and it had ended up broken.
She was comfortable with herself, but she was no ravishing beauty. She was moderately attractive…pretty, even. Everyone raved about her unique hair color, and before having had her own chest enhanced, Emma had frequently eyed Lauren’s ample breasts with envy.
She was a solid six out of ten. Maybe even a seven.
But people tended to pair up with those in their same general attractiveness category. It was how the world worked. So, in undergrad, when a perfect ten had smiled in her direction, she’d been so bewildered and flattered by the attention, she hadn’t noticed the warning signs.
Here she was again, acting like the same flustered idiot she was then. Andrew, who was easily an eleven, had said something romantic via text message. Her mind had known it was a game they were playing, but her heart took over and she’d hesitated.
For a full minute.
“You’re not doing anyone any good by sitting here and stewing about it. Stop being a baby and just go,” she muttered, and shifted the car into drive.
She turned right onto Jeni’s street and crept along, leaning forward with squinted eyes to read the house numbers as she passed. She found the correct one, fourth on the right. It was a cute craftsman-style home painted white with a wooden porch swing in the front.
A few other families must have been hosting the holiday, because the street was packed with cars. Lauren found an open spot two houses down and parked.
On a warmer day she might have ambled up the street, gathering up her courage to approach the door. But it was twenty-two degrees and windy, and each gust was like shards of ice on her face. Lauren rushed down the sidewalk and up to the blue front door.
She heard several loud voices coming from inside, but before she could fully process what that meant, the door swung open.
Chaos ensued.
A clamor of voices, mostly female, spilled from inside.
Am I at the wrong hou—before she could even finish her thought, a white dog burst through the open doorway. The canine slammed into Lauren’s knees and knocked her backward. She hit the deck with a grunt, landing awkwardly on her left hip. Pain sliced through her wrist where she threw her hand down to brace the fall.
“Duke!” A girl who looked like Jeni shot past, chasing after the dog, who took off at a sprint down the sidewalk.
Lauren pushed herself to a sitting position as a little girl walked outside and stood at Lauren’s feet.
“Hello,” the girl said. Her hair was a white-blond mass of curls, and she wore a long-sleeved Frozen T-shirt, leopard print pants, and sparkling red shoes that reminded Lauren of the Wizard of Oz.
“Um. Hi?” Lauren said.