Chapter 3
When Daisy said I could probably use more time in the danger zone, I didn’t think this was what she meant.
Sitting across from a beautiful woman in my favorite bar wasn’t dangerous in the obvious ways. But the ease of it—the way she drew things out of me I usually kept locked down—was another story.
Reliable.
And I was, wasn’t I?
The first to drop my gloves for a teammate. The first to step in when my sister’s husband crossed a line. The first to smooth things over, fix what was broken, explain away my parents’ emotional blind spots.
I took hits, one after the next, and I stayed standing.
For the most part, I didn’t even mind it. I liked being needed. Liked knowing I mattered because I was useful.
What I didn’t like—and what sat heavy in my chest tonight—was realizing how rarely anyone stepped up for me in return. How empty the stands had felt at my last game. How quiet the end of it all had been.
Tonight, reliable felt invisible. And that didn’t feel good at all.
And then there was Daisy, throwing fries at my face when I tried to pull back in on myself.
She was everything I wasn’t—life instead of duty, laughter instead of silence. Sitting across from her, I didn’t feel like the guy who’d just kissed his only dream goodbye. I was still me—still a little solemn, still a little grumpy—but smiling more than I had in years.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
She grinned, taking it for the compliment it was. “I’ve been told that before.”
Gus reappeared a minute later, balancing two baskets in his hands. He slid two burgers in front of us, the smell of grilled beef and caramelized onions filling the booth.
“Here you go,” he said. “One Huddy Special. And one sacrilegious order with mayo on the side.”
Daisy clapped her hands together. “Perfect. Thank you.”
I rolled my eyes at the mayo, not convinced she wasn’t doing this to irritate me. Somehow, that felt very on brand.
She picked up her burger, inspecting it like a jeweler examining a diamond, then took an unapologetically massive bite. A soft, unfiltered sound slipped from her as she chewed, eyes fluttering closed like she’d forgotten I was sitting right there.
And just like that, my attention snagged on her mouth. The quick swipe of her tongue catching a smear of sauce at the corner of her lips. The satisfied curve of her smile when she swallowed, unconcerned with how she looked doing any of it.
Fuck, she was stunning—not in the shiny, curated way of the women who used to trail the team from city to city, all polished edges and practiced interest. Daisy was real. Unguarded. Like she hadn’t shown up tonight planning to be noticed at all.
Her long, wavy blonde hair was still a little wind-tossed and messy. The soft pink T-shirt and ripped jeans looked chosen for comfort, not effect, and when she shifted under the table, I caught a glimpse of scuffed high-top sneakers with hand-drawn flowers all over them.
She was curvy too—full hips, soft thighs, a body that looked warm and real and too easy to notice. The attraction hit fast, settling low before I reined it in.
I cleared my throat and forced my eyes elsewhere. “How old are you?”
The question came out more abrupt than I meant it to, but I didn’t take it back.
She blinked, surprised, then smiled like she was trying to decide if she should be offended. “Twenty-four.”
I nodded, then grabbed my burger.
Daisy chuckled. “Relax, Grandpa. You’re not robbing the cradle, and this is just for tonight, right? We’re friends of convenience.”
My brow raised, then I chewed and swallowed my first bite of burger. “Grandpa? I’m 34.”
“Well, Daddy felt a little forward, don’t you think?”
I choked on air, coughing hard enough that Gus glanced over from the bar.
Daisy threw her head back and laughed at my reaction, muttering Daddy under her breath before she picked up her burger again.
“Damn,” she said when she swallowed. “This is criminally good.”
“It’s decent.”
“Decent?” She shot me a look of mock outrage, then reached for the tiny dish Gus had set beside her plate. With exaggerated care, she dipped the corner of her burger into the mayo, moving in slow motion. “You know what would make it better?”
“Don’t say it.”
“Maaaaayo,” she sang, taking another dramatic bite and groaning again, just to prove her point.
I leaned back, fighting a grin and failing. “Maybe you’re a child after all.”
“And you’re the burger equivalent of an old man yelling ‘Get off my lawn’.
” She licked a dot of mayo from her thumb before slipping it between her lips to get the last of it.
A soft little pop sounded as she pulled it free.
Just like that, I was shifting in my seat, trying to discreetly rearrange myself beneath the table.
“Burgers and mayo is an elite combination.”
She took a sip of her Daisy Cutter, unaware that she’d just knocked the air clean out of me.
“Okay, these questions have gotten a little first date-y, and that’s not what we’re doing here.”
“What are we doing?” I asked, having lost the plot with each passing moment.
“Passing time on a night neither of us wanted to be alone.” She shrugged, like it was just that simple. “Having fun with a new friend. Or, at least, I am.”
“We can’t be friends.” The words came out harsher than I’d planned, and Daisy’s broad smile dipped a little. “At least, for more than tonight. I’m moving tomorrow, and you just got here.”
She shrugged, then grabbed her burger again. “Okay. So just for tonight. Now I gotta get serious with these questions.”
“We’re already playing truth or dare.”
“Sure,” she said. “But I’m changing the rules.”
“That’s not a thing,” I said flatly. “There are very clear-cut rules in truth or dare.”
“Well, it is now.” She took another bite. “Questions while we eat. When we’re done, dares can be back on the table.”
I set down my burger, studying her. “Okay, so what are these new rules?”
“Questions you’d never ask on a first date, but secretly want to,” she said. “Answer the first thing that comes to mind. No clarifying. No follow-up questions. You ask, I answer. I ask, you answer.”
I nodded once. “Okay. I can do that.”
She leaned forward, eyes squinting. “Worst habit?”
“Leaving wet towels on the floor.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose, and I chuckled before asking, “Biggest pet peeve?”
“Whining.”
Follow-up questions were on the tip of my tongue, but that was against her new rules.
“One thing you wish you could stop doing?” Daisy asked.
My answer was like a gut punch, it came so fast. “Saying things are okay when they’re not.”
She rubbed a hand over her heart, then gave a little nod. “Boy, I get that one.”
“Why’d you leave your sister if you didn’t want to move here?”
Daisy grimaced, then put her hands over eyes. “I hate being a burden.”
“I doubt she sees it that way,” I said, breaking the rules when her shoulders sagged under the weight of the admission. “She loves you, yeah?”
She waggled a finger at me, then said, “One thing you’d never tell a first date?”
I leaned forward, waiting until she did the same, her smile coming back as we had our heads almost together. “After a long day, nothing takes the edge off quite like ice-cold chocolate milk, straight from the carton.”
Daisy gasped, pulling back enough to put her hand over her mouth. “You rebel.”
I sat back, arms crossed over my chest. “I know. You’ll never look at me the same again.”
She cackled, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. “Lights on or off?”
Just as abruptly as she’d started laughing, she stopped.
Amusement still danced across her features, but now there was a level of heat to it I hadn’t seen from her yet.
I hadn’t meant the question to sound so dirty, but now I couldn’t help but imagine soft light spilling across every inch of Daisy’s skin, sprawled out beneath me.
That’s exactly what I’d want, given the opportunity to take this further than just one night. But that wasn’t what this was.
“On,” she said, her voice a little rough. “What’s something that could make you walk away, even if you didn’t want to?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Not being chosen back.”
Daisy’s smile faltered for just a second, so fast I might’ve missed it if I wasn’t looking for it. Then she nodded, like she understood more than she let on.
She picked up her burger, and I followed her lead, the moment settling quietly between us.
When she finished, I tapped my fingers on the table. “Okay. Last question. Who’s your hall pass?”
“Easy.” She threw her napkin down and grinned. “Tom Selleck.”
I reared back, not at all expecting that answer. “Really?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” she said. “Give me the Magnum P.I. version, though. Have you seen his mustache? Honestly, that might be peak facial hair right there.”
Without meaning to, I scratched at my playoff beard. “Should I be insulted?”
“Oh, I like a beard.” Her eyes flicked over me in a way that made my chest tighten. “But a mustache? That’s a statement. That says, ‘I have power tools and own multiple flannel shirts.’”
Her eyes took on a mischievous, untrustworthy gleam as she slid her empty basket aside and folded her hands on the table. “Truth or dare?”
After everything we’d just admitted, there was only one answer. “Dare.”
Her smile widened. She leaned forward, lowering her voice like she was about to share a secret. “I dare you to shave your beard into a mustache.”
I blinked once. Twice.
“Into a—” I stopped and shook my head. “You’re kidding.”
Daisy watched me, lips twitching. “Nope.”
“Right now?”
She shrugged. “Do you have other plans tonight?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I thought about the empty apartment waiting for me. About packing boxes. About the absolute nothingness waiting for me tomorrow.
“No,” I said finally.
Her eyes sparkled. “Then what’s the problem?”
I looked down at the table, then back at her. “You realize this is my face.”
“And?” she said. “Beards grow back. I’m not pressuring you—you can say no. But that’s the dare.”
I huffed out a laugh and reached for my wallet, pulling out cash and dropping it on the table. “You’re unbelievable.”
She hopped out of the booth, practically bouncing from foot to foot. “So, are we doing it?”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, sliding out after her.
She grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the door. The night air hit us like a reset button—cool, sharp, and buzzing with city noise. Daisy bounced ahead of me on the sidewalk, hands shoved into her jean pockets, almost vibrating with excitement.
“I just want you to know,” she said over her shoulder, “this is already my favorite dare I’ve ever given.”
“You say that like this is a regular occurrence.”
She grinned. “You’d be surprised.”
We stopped at a corner drugstore, fluorescent lights humming overhead. I held the door for her, and she shot me a pleased look on her way in.
Inside, I headed straight for the grooming aisle, grabbing a beard trimmer, a pack of disposable razors, and shaving cream like I’d done this a hundred times before—which I had, just never for this reason.
Daisy leaned against the shelf, arms crossed, watching me like this was the most entertaining thing she’d seen all week.
“You sure?” I asked, holding up the trimmer one last time.
She nodded, those blue eyes alight with joy. “Oh, hell yeah.”
I snorted and headed for the register, paying without thinking too hard about it. It was just hair, and I’d already decided I was going to shave tonight. It wasn’t like I couldn’t shave the mustache off the moment I got home.
The men’s restroom was empty, thankfully. I locked the door behind me and stared at my reflection, trimmer heavy in my hand.
What the hell are you doing?
I pictured Daisy’s grin, how she’d dared me without hesitation. She looked at me like this spontaneous, fun version of myself already existed. And dammit if I didn’t like that.
I turned the trimmer on.
The first pass sent dark hair tumbling into the sink. I paused, breath catching, and watched it slide toward the drain like evidence. Years of habit. Of sameness. Of being exactly who everyone expected me to be.
I kept going.
The beard fell away in uneven clumps, exposing skin that hadn’t seen the light in a long time. With every pass, something loosened in my chest. Like I was carving away more than hair, shedding weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.
When I shut the trimmer off, the sink was a mess and my reflection looked…different.
Lighter.
I cleaned up the edges with a razor, careful and precise, until all that remained was the mustache. Bold. Unapologetic. A statement, just like Daisy had said.
The guy in the mirror looked like someone who said what he meant. Someone who took chances. Someone who didn’t always play it safe.
Someone Daisy would laugh with.
I cleaned up the sink, splashed water on my face, and took one last look before heading out.
The door opened, and Daisy’s head snapped up, already smiling.
But then her mouth fell open. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh wow.”
I lifted a brow. “That bad?”
She crossed the space between us in three quick steps, eyes raking over my face. “No,” she said. “That… That is dangerous.”
Something warm settled low in my stomach, liking the way her eyes couldn’t leave my face, memorizing every line.
Maybe I was reliable, unwilling to say no to something asked of me, even in a playful game with no stakes. But I didn’t feel careful or stuck or any of the other things I so often did when I did things solely for other people’s benefit.
I felt like someone new.
Someone who might just be brave enough to keep feeling this way, even after tonight.