Her mock glare gets more heated. “You think you know everything about me, mister.”
“I know you’d stick your face in the jalape?o jar if it would fit,” I counter. “I know you consider nacho cheese a food group.”
“Lucky guess,” she mutters, but picks up a nacho and closes her eyes. Sighs. Swipes that fucking pink tongue out to taste the cheese before she eats the bite.
With that, my dick stirs again. Oh God, it’s going to be a long night. My balls might kill me if I don’t get some relief.
We eat in companionable silence, drinking our current beers. I let myself take in her form, the mature curves of her body, the smile lines around her eyes and mouth. Middle school Lauren was pretty and insecure. High school Lauren grew a bit more confident, but still carried some of that residual youthful awkwardness.
Adult Lauren is a whole other sight altogether. This woman’s clothing molds to her body to flatter her figure. Her breasts are heavy and full, her hips round. Her thighs are curvy. And that red hair…I’ve thought about curling her hair around my fist and baring her throat to me so many times I’ve practically chafed my dick with the mental image.
We finish eating. I sigh in pleasure and pat my flat stomach. I can see Lauren’s gaze drift back to her purse. I have to admit, part of me is disappointed that she’s still so fixated on escaping. Is it that awful being stuck here with me?
The other part of me thinks I’m a shit-heel for taking it personally…and for looking at this as an opportunity to advance my cause. Of course she wants out of here. She doesn’t like being trapped. If I despised enclosed spaces the way she does, I’d hate it too.
I need to stop thinking with my dick. My friend needs me to be strong, to help her survive a difficult situation. I can put my own desires aside and do that for her, because she deserves it.
“Truth or dare?” I find myself blurting out of nowhere.
That gets her attention. She rips her gaze away from the purse and stares at me wide-eyed. “What?”
“Truth. Or. Dare.” It was a random impulse, but maybe a game is just the thing to help her focus. And to help me stop thinking about how badly I want to touch her naked skin.
She laughs. “I can’t believe we’re going there. I haven’t played this game in years.”
“Have a better idea?” I challenge.
She shakes her head. “Not in the least. Truth.”
I knew she’d pick that. So easy to read. “Tell me about the last bad date you went on.” I’m starting with a softball here, because I know griping about her terrible dates will get her to loosen up and laugh more. When I was in the service, it killed me to know she was out there dating, and I took more pleasure in her whining about how poorly they went than a friend should have.
She tilts her head to think, then starts to laugh in earnest. Her smile lights up her face, and I find my chest tightening again. Every time I make her smile, I feel like I’ve accomplished something monumental. “Okay, so, it was bad,” she tells me. “We met for breakfast—”
“Who the hell takes a date to breakfast?” Unless you were with the woman the night before, that is.
“Shh, don’t interrupt.” She waggles a finger at me then takes another deep swig of beer. The bottle is empty now, and she just rolls it along the floor. I get up and grab another before she can say anything. She doesn’t even protest, just takes it, but doesn’t drink from it. “Anyway. He orders, like, fifteen pounds of bacon. I mean, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Her eyes roll hard. “He eats the whole thing in what has to be a world-record time. I swear, his plate was empty in five minutes. Then he proceeds to fart for the rest of the meal. He didn’t even try to disguise it.”
I bark a laugh so hard it causes her to laugh in response. “What the fuck? That’s so gross.”
She makes a face, her cheeks stained a delicate pink. “I know! It was nasty. I hate dating.” When Lauren drags in a deep breath, it makes her breasts strain against her shirt, and suddenly I’m thinking about how fucking badly I want to touch her tits right now.
“Okay,” she says. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” I say without thinking.
She huffs a laugh. “Wow, no hesitation there. I wasn’t ready for you to answer that fast. Crap.” She eyes the ceiling as she thinks. “Um, I dare you to…recite the alphabet backward.”
“Seriously?” I tell her, not bothering to hide my sarcastic tone. “That’s all you got? Lame. You can do way better than that.”
She drops her attention back to my face and studies me in total seriousness for a long, quiet moment. The scrutiny makes me a bit uncomfortable.
“What are you thinking?” I ask her. I can’t read what’s on her mind right now.