Four years ago, I took the biggest risk of my life and it blew up in my face. I learned my lesson – love sucks.
Now self-preservation and protecting my heart have become second nature. But Jameson Strauss… he’s my weakness.
Give me the occasional shot of tequila, a game of Truth or Dare, and I’ll do almost anything for that man.
Four years ago, I didn’t follow my heart. I let the one girl that consumed my soul walk away without a fight.
Now I go through the motions never truly living. But, the day Ashton Sullivan needed me was the day my world changed for the better.
Tequila, truths, and the occasional dare are all I need to show her how good we can be.
Sometimes the truth is in the dare.
We spent the entire weekend at the lake eating, drinking, and swimming. It’s a tradition that we maintain to this day. On the final night of the weekend, Jameson and I were the last two awake by the fire. I think together we managed to consume an entire bottle of tequila. And, as it often is, the alcohol was a sort of truth serum for us.
We started a game of Truth or Dare, which never quite mustered a dare. Until the end. Truths varied from cheating on history tests to sneaking in after curfew and even first crushes. I admitted to my fear of small children and Jameson admitted his fear of a woman dressed in head-to-toe leopard. We laughed and we cried. Tears from laughter, not sadness.
Then he asked me the final truth or dare as I took my last shot and handed him the bottle.
“Truth or Dare, Ash?”
“Hmmm. Well, considering we’ve just demolished a bottle of tequila, neither seems like a good idea. I’m likely to break a leg or make an ass of myself.”
“I’d go with the ass part. I don’t think either of us wants a lecture from Piper if we have to go to the hospital.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Okay then. Truth it is. Hit me.”
“Do you ever think about kissing me?”
Seconds that feel like minutes pass between us. Something glimmers in his eyes as he asks me. Screw it, I can always blame the tequila.
His breath hitches and a sinister smile takes over my face. Two can play this game.
“Your turn, J. Truth or Dare?”
He stands and finishes the tequila straight from the bottle and takes the three steps necessary to stand in front of me. He bends so that his hands rest on the arms of my chair and leans in. I can smell the tequila on his breath mixing with mine. My own breath hitches.
“I hate that name.”
Our words are whispers.
“I dare you to kiss me.”