Theo gave a helpless shrug, and we fell in line behind her. She collected people as she went, herding Grady, Marissa, Boone, Wyatt, Trevor, Dylan, and a small group of girls I didn’t recognize along the path. We ended up sitting in a loose circle on the dock, and Wyatt and Trevor set down a couple of bottles of liquor in the center. I was sandwiched between Boone and Theo, my knees pressed against theirs. A salty breeze blowing inland whipped my hair in every direction, so I tipped my head back and gathered it into my signature messy bun with the royal blue hair tie from my wrist. When I sat back up, I saw West had slipped into the circle and was sitting directly across from me.
My heart thudded an extra beat, its steady rhythm faltering.
Where had he come from? Not that I had been looking for him earlier.
West looked like he’d taken the time to go home for a quick shower. His hair was damp around the edges, and he was wearing an old faded concert t-shirt that was snug around his shoulders. His shirt looked soft, and I had the urge to run my hand over his chest just to feel the contradiction of worn cotton over solid muscle. He caught my eye and flashed a grin. I quickly looked away, flustered to be caught staring. His ego did not need encouragement.
“All right!” Rue clapped her hands and commanded everyone’s attention. “For those of you who haven’t played dirty truth or dare with us before, here are the rules. One person asks the group a question. If you refuse to answer it, you get to pick your dare. You take a shot, lose a piece of clothing, or kiss somebody. The person who asked the question gets to decide which piece of clothing you lose or who you kiss, if you pick that dare. And most importantly, you cannot, under any circumstances, pick the same dare twice in a row. Although…” She paused to look around the circle and let out a drunken giggle. “I’m not sure kissing someone from this group counts as a hardship.” She leaned against Hendrix. “Questions will move around the circle to the right.” She pointed left but didn’t seem to notice the contradiction. “You don’t have to answer your own question. Who wants to start?”
One of the girls I didn’t recognize piped up. “I will!” She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and blinked at us from under thick bangs. “Um, have you slept with anyone sitting here?”
Surprisingly, everyone before me answered yes. When my turn came and I said a quiet no, every male head turned in my direction. It was like they could smell the fresh meat. This is how a mouse must feel, when the cat is half interested in the chase and half with the meal at the end. To my relief, Hendrix and one other girl answered no as well.
Even though, looking around the circle, I wouldn’t mind being hunted by one of these guys, I had a sinking feeling this game might not end well for me.
The other girl who said no was up next. She looked up in the air, as if inspiration would fall down from the stars and land in her open mouth. “So, like, everyone has tattoos these days. So, like, tell us what one of your tattoos means.”
Grady had a memorial tattoo for his mom. Marissa had a heart on the inside of her wrist because she “just loved love.” Rue caught my eye from across the circle and rolled her eyes at that. Hendrix had a four-leaf clover for luck. Theo didn’t have any tattoos, so he ended up losing his shirt. I showed my paper airplane tattoo and mumbled something about a love for travel — another lie. I didn’t talk about the real meaning behind it, ever. It wasn’t my secret to share.
Rue smirked at me. She turned her back and showed the top of a peacock feather that curved along her back. “It reminds me that beauty is only skin deep, and that, sometimes, the prettiest things aren’t what they seem,” she said, with a bite in her voice.
Grady jerked his head around to her and stared, but she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she wrapped one of her arms around Hendrix’s bicep and laid her head on his shoulder. The girl with the ponytail was also tattoo-less and had to give up her shirt, much to the enjoyment of the guys.
More questions followed. When did you lose your virginity? Theo refused to answer and dropped a quick peck on my lips. How old was the oldest person you’ve slept with? Grady and West shared a look, and both opted for a shot. Weird. Have you ever really been in love? I wasn’t sure how to classify Asshole anymore, so I took a shot. So did most of the guys, although Grady and West ended up shirtless since they’d taken shots last time. Rue skipped answering too, pounding a shot of Patron and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
When I refused to answer Boone’s question about how many people I’d slept with, I chose to lose a piece of clothing. Boone looked me over slowly. He was already down to his boxers. I assumed I’d lose my shirt first, which didn’t really bother me, but Boone surprised me. “Take off the tank,” he said, leaning close to me. I swallowed and managed to wiggle out of it while keeping on my sheer pink top. My black bra was clearly visible underneath. I’d thought I’d stay covered a little better since I had worn double layers, and I crossed my arms. I couldn’t help but glance at Boone next to me, whose gaze was glued to my chest. Peeking down at myself, I realized my position pushed my girls up more than hid them, so I dropped my arms and hunched my shoulders some. Good Lord. Without waiting for the next round, I downed another shot.
I wasn’t exactly a prude. A bra wasn’t that different from a swimsuit top, and I regularly pranced around in a bikini, albeit a family-friendly one, at work. But this atmosphere felt different. The flickering light. The hormones saturating the salt air. It was intimate somehow. And I’d only ever been intimate with Asshole before. While that night with Jared technically counted, it hadn’t felt intimate. We’d been detached, rushed, and impersonal — like I had hoped. Well, okay, I had hoped for decent sex, but the mood had been what I had been looking for. Not this shadowy sharing of secrets and skin and lips.
Maybe I was just getting drunk. I always overthought things when I was drunk.
I hadn’t even heard the following question, but suddenly Marissa was telling Boone he had to kiss me. Twisting toward me, he wrapped his big hand around the back of my neck and tilted my face up to his. He clearly was going for more than the quick peck I’d shared with Theo. I sucked in a breath. Lowering his head to me, he grazed his lips over mine, which gave me time to learn the shape of his mouth. My hands grabbed his shoulders for support as we leaned into each other. Boone took it as encouragement because he wrapped his other arm around my back and pulled our chests in tight before slipping his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like tequila. Engrossed in the kiss, the damp slide of our lips, and the pressure of his fingers on my skin, I barely heard the catcalls from behind us, and I was slow to pull back. Boone had a shit-eating grin on his face as the other guys whooped at him. I stared at the bottles of booze in the center of the circle in a daze, surprised I had lost myself in the kiss so thoroughly.
How much had I had to drink again?
The weight of a pair of eyes bored into me, and I peered across the circle at West from under my lashes. His jaw was tight, and he was glaring at me. Raising my head, I glared back. What was his problem, anyway? It was just a damn game.
When the girl with the ponytail chose a dare, she leaned over to Trevor, and whispered in his ear. Rolling his eyes, Trevor laughed. “Whatever. You can kiss West.” Hopping up, she skipped over to him in just her underwear and kneeled down. Shooting me one last angry look, West grabbed her in his arms, tipped her back, and shoved his tongue down her throat, kissing her deeply. I watched in stupefaction as her arms clutched at his back and she moaned.