One More Dare (Cove Lake College #1)

1. Porter

PORTER

“If you change your outfit one more time, I’m leaving without you.”

I’m sprawled across my roommate Josie’s bed, watching her hold up a third dress against her body in the mirror. She’s been at this for twenty minutes and ignoring every one of my suggestions.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, not even looking at me because we both know she’s right.

“I absolutely would,” I lie.

“You’re the worst,” she jokes playfully.

“And yet”—I gesture around her bedroom, at the chaos of discarded outfits and makeup scattered across every surface—“here I am. Waiting like a saint.”

“Saints don’t wear that much eyeliner.”

“Saints didn’t have access to good eyeliner.

If they did, trust me, they would’ve.” I roll off the bed and come up behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

I don’t wear makeup all the time, but I think some eyeliner is fun when I want to put the extra effort in.

Tonight felt like a good excuse for that.

If we ever make it there. “Wear the black dress. It makes you look like you could ruin someone’s life. In a good way, of course.”

“You sold me. First party of the spring semester so we have to look hot.”

“We always do.” I smile, motioning with my hands at my signature outfit—a crop top and jeans. “Now hurry up before I die of old age in this room.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she teases, and I roll my eyes, but the compliment warms my chest. Josie was one of the very first people I ever felt like I could truly be myself around.

Since we met freshman year at a queer event on campus, her friendship has helped me in so many ways.

We decided to move in together sophomore year since we were spending all our time together anyway, and I know I wouldn’t be nearly as confident as I am today without her support.

Josie heads into her bathroom to change, and I open my phone only to see zero messages waiting for me.

Josie is definitely the popular, outgoing one out of the two of us.

Where she’ll approach anyone, I’m more reserved when it comes to trusting people.

Clicking with someone the way I did with her is an anomaly.

We have a great group of friends, but I doubt I would know them all without Josie introducing us.

I really am lucky she approached me freshman year, or I have no clue what my college experience would’ve been like, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be this fun.

“Porter!” Josie calls from the bathroom. “Can you grab my leather jacket?”

“Yeah.” I walk out to the hall closet to find her designer leather jacket and bring it back into her room while I continue to wait for her to finish up.

“Has Abbey texted yet?” I ask through the closed door.

“Not since she said she was unpacking. She wanted to get it done tonight so she wouldn’t have to deal with it hungover tomorrow. She’ll text us when she’s leaving.”

“Perfect.”

When Josie emerges, she looks incredible.

I don’t need to be attracted to women to know that.

She’s only five-three, but she commands the attention in any room.

Her black hair is always perfectly styled, and she has the best sense of fashion of anyone I’ve ever met, with the bank account to fund it.

“Well?”

“You obviously look stunning, as always. The black dress was the right move,” I assure her as I hand her the jacket, and she pulls up her app to order us a rideshare.

Normally we’d walk, but it’s freezing, and fortunately for her—and sometimes, by extension, me—Josie doesn’t have to worry about budgeting.

“One minute for the ride. Amazing,” she announces. “And you know, you could use some of that charm on an actual date instead of just me.”

“Why would I do that when I have you?” I counter as we walk to the door. “You laugh at all my jokes, you never judge my choices, and I don’t have to worry about falling for someone who isn’t into me.”

I turn to lock up behind me because even after all this time, I feel like such an idiot for my past, and it’s hard to look Josie in the eye when we talk about it.

“Babe, it’s been, like, three years since Robbie. Maybe it’s time to at least be open to the possibility that not every guy is afraid of their sexuality?” she suggests gently as we climb into the back seat of the black SUV.

I know better than to think like that, though.

The pain of that experience still lingers.

It has nothing to do with him specifically, but everything to do with how vulnerable and used I felt.

It’s made it so much harder for me to trust men and is why I’ve only stuck to the occasional hookup with already out, unashamed queer men since.

“I know that, but he was a very specific kind of educational experience about what happens when you’re dumb enough to catch feelings.”

“You weren’t dumb—”

“I was. We both know it.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “But I’m older and wiser now, so let’s just go to this party and have a good time without any romantic complications. Deal?”

She eyes me for a moment, then sighs. “Fine. But for the record, I think you’re selling yourself short.”

“Noted and ignored.”

She laughs and shakes her head as our ride pulls up to the curb at Bo’s house. “Well, come on, let’s see where the night leads.”