“It’s so strange talking to you right now,” she says in a tone that almost sounds confessional. “You seem very…different. I’m not used to it, I guess.”
“I’m still the same in many ways,” I retort. I still have the same fucking feelings for her I’ve had since I was a kid. They haven’t faded at all.
Her eyes narrow and her lips curl in a wicked smile. The beer, and the conversation, are kicking in good now, I can tell. She doesn’t look tense or stressed anymore, but is completely relaxed and distracted. She stretches for a moment then says, “Okay, fine. Here’s a better one, then. My official dare is for you to take off your pants.”
I blink in sheer shock. Not what I was expecting. Still, a dare is a dare. And at least the old heater is working well in the bar—I didn’t have a chance to shut it off, which I was going to do before locking the building down for the night, so it’s fairly comfortable down here.
I stand and shuck my pants, toss them to the side, then sit back down. Lauren doesn’t say a word, just remains quiet, but every couple of seconds, her eyes keep darting to my thighs and her mouth is a soft O.
She swallows and looks at a spot over my shoulder. I can see a pink flush working its way up her throat. In a flash so fast I almost don’t catch it, her gaze flicks down to my dick, then back over my shoulder again.
She draws in a soft, shaky breath, almost inaudible. Lauren looks aroused.
I’m not even sure she realizes it, but I can almost fucking smell it on her. The blood is burning through my limbs now, adrenaline pouring in and pushing me over the edge.
Yeah, fuck it. I’m not letting tonight go by without seeing how far this will go. If it means I might have the chance to finally kiss her…or, God willing, do more…then I have to risk it.
Lauren
I feel like my body is one big pulse, pounding all over.
The moment that dare slipped out my lips, for him to take his pants off, I changed the game. He moved with his catlike grace and stripped for me and sat back down, and all of a sudden I can’t stop gawking at him.
Those legs, the hard muscles, the firm calves dusted with soft hair…it’s almost too much.
My cheeks are so hot I’m sure he can see my face burning. But to his credit, he doesn’t say anything. Just quietly eyes me, totally comfortable in his own skin. And who can blame him? He’s friggin’ hot.
There, I let myself admit it. Total truth time.
My fingers have a strange, sudden itch to reach out and touch his leg muscle, and I clench them in my lap. Nope. Hell to the nope. It’s one thing to think it. Another to do something about it.
I grab my beer and almost knock it over in my haste. The liquid cools my throat and I focus on swallowing. I’m not going to be awkward and weird tonight. I’m not going to stare at my best friend like he’s a slab of the sexiest damn meat I’ve ever seen. That’s crazy.
“Truth or dare, kitten,” he murmurs, and the low vibration of his voice sends a shiver skittering across my skin. I can imagine him whispering that in my ear.
I don’t know which choice is less dangerous. Both seem super risky right now.
The buzz is working its way through me with full speed now. My head is a bit light, and I feel floaty.
“Dare,” I find myself saying. After all, if he can take his pants off, surely I can do something semi-brave too, right? I don’t know if it’s just the beer talking, but it’s better than panic, so I’ll take it.
He blinks, like he’s surprised I chose dare. Join the club, I think.
He scrubs a hand across his jaw, which is flecked with tiny stubble. When he drops his hand, his eyes are boring into me with an intensity that almost makes the air lock in my lungs.
“Are you sure you want dare?” he says.
He’s offering me an out.
He’s calling me chicken.
Some stubborn part of me feels a flash of irritation. I might not have changed as much as he did over the last several years, but dammit, I can be bold too. I thrust my chin in the air.
“Bring it,” I tell him coolly. What’s he really going to dare me to do anyway? This is Cole. He isn’t going to make me do something I’m uncomfortable with.
The silence draws out for a moment before he utters, “I dare you to finish that kiss we almost had before I went to boot camp.”
My mouth instantly dries. Oh holy shit, he said it. Ten years, and I thought I was the only person to remember that night. None of our correspondence even hinted about it, and now the words are hanging between us in the air, which seems to be growing thicker and warmer by the second.
“What kiss?” I find myself uttering, then want to smack my own forehead. God, I sound like an idiot.
He quirks that damn brow at me again. “Really? That’s how you’re going to go? Okay then.”