The Challenge Read Free Page B

“Unless you count Jim Morrison lyrics as a poem, no, I guess I don’t. What’s yours?”
    “I like e.e. cummings. My favorite starts off ‘the boys I mean are not refined.’” Katie thought of the girls who bucked and bite, the boys who shake the mountains when they dance. She recited it to him from memory, and Jimmy was quiet for a moment after that.
    “I never liked poetry,” he said. “I had a…teacher…in school who made me recite lots of poetry. It was a way to…well, it doesn’t matter why. I hated poetry because of that teacher. I never thought I could actually like a poem. But I like that one.”
    She heard him yawn and frowned, safe in knowing he couldn’t see her. She was already making a face in anticipation of him ending the conversation, but her voice was neutral in reply when he told her he had to hang up.
    “Yeah,” Katie said. “It’s late.”
    The invitation was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. She didn’t want to invite him out, not even to the coffee shop where they’d first met. He might say no. Worse, he might stop calling her.
    “Night, Katie. Sleep tight.”
    “You too,” Katie said and clutched the phone tight in her fingers after he’d disconnected before she did, too.
    She was still thinking of that conversation when she got home with Dean in tow.
    “Maybe that’s your problem,” Dean said as he flipped through a magazine she’d left on her coffee table. He tossed it down and looked at her. “What? Maybe he knows too much about you already. Destroyed the mystery.”
    “So then why does he keep calling me?” Katie nudged off one shoe with a sigh and then the other before flopping onto her couch. “Do men often call women late at night just to chat because they long to hear the sound of another voice? I think not.”
    “You’re asking the wrong guy about that.”
    “Do you ever call someone late at night just to hear them talk?”
    “Only if I’m jerking off at the same time,” Dean said.
    Katie made a face and wriggled her toes, free of the high-heeled pumps. “Maybe he’s jerking off.”
    Dean shot her a grin. “Do you?”
    “That,” Katie said, “is none of your business.”
    Dean slid onto the couch beside her. “You do.”
    “Maybe. Once or twice.” Katie curled her feet underneath her, looking at him. “He has a very sexy voice.”
    “So why not invite him over? Put on some soft music, make him dinner. Guys love that sort of shit.” Dean tweaked her knee through her soft skirt. “Make the first move.”
    Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I like him. Maybe too much. I don’t want to fuck it up, Dean. If he was into me like that, don’t you think he’d have asked me on a real date or something instead of just calling me and talking for hours?”
    “Maybe he’s afraid, too. Guys can be afraid,” Dean said.
    “Are you?” She tilted her head to study him.
    “I’m not afraid of anything.” Dean frowned.
    She let it go. She knew him better than that. After Ethan left, Dean hadn’t said his name again. He’d erased Ethan from his life as thoroughly as though his lover had never existed as part of it. In some ways Katie admired that about Dean, his commitment to forgetting the past. On the other hand, she knew there had to be fond memories among the bad ones. She never regretted remembering relationships, even ones that ended.
    So why was she so afraid to take a chance on one with Jimmy? Even if it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t have lost anything and might be missing something great. Katie sighed.
    “Hey.” Dean squeezed her again. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
    “Huh? About Jimmy?”
    “Focus,” Dean said. He pulled out a strip of condoms from his back pocket and unfurled them, dangling, before tossing them onto the coffee table. “About us. This.”
    “Oh, the challenge.” Katie drew out the word, then smiled. “No. I’m up for it.”
    Dean smiled too. “Good.”
    Katie was used to Dean