I Dare You (Iker Casillas)

I Dare You (Iker Casillas) #1

I Dare You (Iker Casillas) #1

We all start out as strangers.

“You need some roadside assistance?” Odette Reyes asks the man who had been struggling with his car. She could see the smoke coming from under the hood of the car, and her eager feet took her there. She hadn't intended to make the man jump, startled by her sudden presence, it just happened. “I'm sorry!” She apologized, slowly approaching him now, with hands in front of her to show him she wasn't a danger. Just someone who wanted to help. Someone desperate to do something right for someone else compared to her fucked up life. “I didn't mean to scare you.” Her brunette hair flew about as the wind blew.

“Noh, noh.” The man's accent was prominent in his deep voice. Iker Casillas wipes the sweat off his forehead as he stares at the mysterious girl who had came along. She was wearing nothing but a pair of worn out jeans, an older sweater, and a beat up pair of converse. Her hair was unkempt, and she looked emaciated, as if she's not been fed a honest to god meal in days. Odette coughs awkwardly, knowing he took a gander at her appearance. At her point in life she wasn't exactly at the best moment. She's been living on the streets, forsaken and lost. Iker looks back at his car, knowing he's made her uncomfortable. “Ah sí, I dun know what's wrong wit my car. It jus broke down.” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, ashamed that he barely knew much about car facts.

“If you pop the hood I could give it a go?” She suggested nicely offering him a soft smile. “I'm Odette by the way.” She wasn't being rude when she didn't offer a hand to shake, but kindness showed in her eyes. She was dirty, she didn't want to get a man like him dirty as well. He looked well off, living in a big house supposedly, especially with a car like his… one of the new Audi models. He introduced himself as Iker, happy to know she wasn't a fan. “Nice to meet you…” She bit her lip, anxious to see the engines that ran the car. “Now that hood–”

“Oh yes!” Iker went back inside his car to press the button that opens his hood. Once that had been done, Odette happily made her way towards the engine. She let out a low whistle once she finally got the smoke to clear. “What? What is it?” Iker wonders as his eyes dart from the engine to the woman. She shakes her head, assuring him nothing's the real matter, just that the engine was something of a beauty. “You like cars huh?” He asks with an amused smile.

“Why yes I do.” Odette chuckles as she reaches her hand over to unscrew a little nugget that she knew had caused the problem. “I used to be a car spokesperson. I always travelled around wherever my company had an auto show going on. Man, I used to travel places like New York City, and Las Vegas!” She mused as she recalled the not too distant memories. Iker leaned against his car, arms across his chest, amused by the stories she went on telling. He never once met a woman interested in cars, let alone work to speak about them. “This one time in Chicago, someone had gotten behind the glass barrier set on the floor to keep away from the more…expensive models, everyone went fanatic over it. He got kicked out. But what do you think! It was off limits.” She remisniced as she continued to move over some more wires, and cylinder tubes. “Answring peoples' questions about their favorite car was my favorite part of it all.” She chuckles, backing up as she wipes her hands on her jeans. She had been finished with the car. “But that was awhile ago…anyway it's all better now!” She wipes her sweaty brow.

“Gracias!” Iker thanks revving the car to life, which seemed to be normally running once again. “Let me pay you–” He was about to take out his wallet, and as much as Odette needed the money, she couldn't take it from him. Shaking her head, she said she couldn't possibly take his cash. “No but I insist.” He gently shoved the money to her chest. She shook her head once more. “Can I at least give you a ride home?” He sighs, tucking the money back into his wallet, then back pocket. Odette's cheeks flared with embarrassment. “Is something happening at home? Do you have an abusive boyfriend.” Iker inquired with genuine worry in his voice. With her blushing, he took it as a sign that she didn't want to go home. “What's wrong ple–”

“I don't have a boyfriend.” She chuckles at the obscure thought. She hasn't dated in months, and she doubted any guy would ever want to date her for the rest of her meager life. Iker sighed in relief when she says she was single, at least he didn't have to beat anyone up for her. For some reason he was happy that she wasn't taken. Not as if he wanted to get with her, he was happily married to Sara Carbonero. The love of his life, the apple to his eye, the woman who had just moved into a newer, more greater house with her husband. With him. “Frankly for the matter I don't even have a house.” She sighs deeply, not intending for him to have heard it. It was meant to be an inner thought. Iker looks at her incredulously. She had been homeless. How could he not have known? The clothing, the fact she was roaming the side of the streets in the first place, and with a closer examination, she looked as if she hadn't showered in weeks, and seemed near too thin. Without another thought Iker opened up his mouth;

"Move in with me."