Dare To Love Series: Dreaming Up a Dare (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Free Page B

knockout of a woman.
    “Don’t worry about that right now,” Alex said. “Figure out what you want. Once you know that, you’ll have a much easier path in front of you—then we can help you find a way to get it.”
    “We?” I asked, having a hard time keeping the sarcasm out of my tone. Jackson understood my sense of humor, but I wasn’t so sure it translated to strangers all the time.
    He nodded. “You and me. I can help. Been doing it for the Thunder players for a while.”
    “Maybe you haven’t noticed,” I drawled, drawing my hand through the air along my side to emphasize my lack of size, “but I’m not exactly a pro football player.”
    “No, but you’re not that different. And you’re Mad Dog’s friend. I want to help.” He took the final sip from his glass and set it on the tray a passing waiter carried by us. He raised a brow toward my empty glass and took it from me when I nodded, placing it on the same tray. “It’ll be a favor.”
    “Favors need to be repaid.”
    “Not necessarily. Sometimes they’re just favors.”
    “Nothing in this world’s free.” Which I’d tried to tell Jackson when he’d suggested I come live with him in Miami until I could find a job. He hadn’t wanted to hear it, though. For some reason, people with money never seemed to think in the same terms people without money did. All of the Dares and their guests at this party were like Jackson in that regard. He hadn’t always had money, but it was amazing to me how quickly he’d gotten used to the fact that it was there for him whenever he needed it.
    Alex chuckled. “Fine. Someday, you can pay me back. Just let me see what I can do, all right? If you come see me next week, we can talk more in depth. I bet I’ll be able to point you in the right direction. How’s Monday look for you?”
    “Monday’s open.” Every day was open. There wasn’t a thing on my calendar, unless Jackson had put it there. But how would I manage to repay Alex Dare for whatever kind of help he intended to give me?
    It was the same conundrum I was facing when it came to mooching off my best friend. There was no way I could ever return the favor of everything he was doing for me. Cooking for him wasn’t anywhere near enough.
    Jackson said he just wanted me here with him. That he missed me. That there were lots of jobs to be found in Miami, and then I could be near him so I wouldn’t be all alone in a big, unfamiliar city.
    He had no idea how much I’d missed him over the last while. For years, we’d spent three hours a day, five or six days a week, in the back of a car traveling from Livingston to Nashville. He’d gone there to play hockey, since there weren’t any teams in or around Livingston that were anywhere close to his level. I’d been such a skilled gymnast that there wasn’t anything for me in our tiny hometown, either.
    My parents had found a top-tier gymnastics coach in the same sports complex where Jackson’s team played, and then our parents had worked out a carpool trade-off. It didn’t matter whose mother was driving us—every single day, five days a week, the two of us had been trapped in the back of the vehicle together for ninety minutes or longer each way.
    At first, he hadn’t wanted to have much to do with me. I had always been ridiculously tiny, which was exactly the opposite of Jackson and the guys he hung out with on the ice. In the early days, we often ignored each other, and when we weren’t doing that, we bickered like siblings. But then one day, he’d gone too far in picking on me, breaking out into the munchkin song from The Wizard of Oz . That was when I’d put him in a headlock. His mother hadn’t done anything about it, either, telling him to figure it out on his own because we still had an hour to drive and it was after ten on a school night, so there was no chance she would be pulling over to separate us.
    I’d finally let him go once he’d apologized and admitted I could kick his ass