Truth or Dare

Lie

"Dare."

His eyebrows went up. She never picked the dare, but tonight, she thought, Screw you, Tino. Life is too short. And it was also the tequila. But mostly it was him.

She ignored the suggestions from the other guys in the circle. They didn't matter. She knew he'd have the final say. He'd insist on it. He took his time, laughing to disguise the sharpness in his smile.

"Kiss..." the word hung in the air, breathless, "the person you want most."

A question pretending to be a dare. Unbelievable. So Cassandra Flores did the only thing she could.

She lied.

Her date hadn't been expecting it, and she might have cut his lip as her teeth ground into his, but he recovered his poise quickly enough. He tasted of Red Horse and spearmint gum, and when his fingers inched under her shirt—just a little—she opened her eyes.

Christian's eyes were clear, truthful, and hungry. So she leaned into the kiss, into his hands, and it wasn't until she felt the insistent tap on her shoulder that she paused for air.

"You can stop now." Santino's voice was dry.

Cassie looked around and realised their friends had left. When did that happen?

Her brain felt foggy, and she vaguely wondered if maybe those tequilas had been a bad decision. This was confirmed when Tino gently helped her up and the world wobbled in very unnatural ways.

"Hey." She blinked when Christian ducked his face so they were eye to eye. "You all good?"

She nodded like she was ten years old. As Christian headed for the kitchen, picking up a few stray bottles along the way, she turned back to Tino, whose gaze hovered over her shoulder.

"Did I win?"

He laughed and his gaze fell on her nose. "Yes. Yes, you did."

"You thought I'd choose you." She couldn't hide the accusation in her voice. His eyes sharpened as they met hers. "Surprised?"

Before he could reply, Christian was back, pressing a cool glass of water against her lower lip. "You should drink this."

She obeyed him just to annoy Tino. The icy water perked her up for a second before it met the tequila, which had her bolting toward the bathroom. She made it. Barely.

Ten minutes later—it felt more like two hours—tequila was replaced with regrets—oh, so many regrets—and a dash of embarrassment to cap off her night. Cassie found her date and her crush bonding as they put away the last of the empty bottles and restored Tino's sala almost to its former state. She leaned against the wall where it opened into the kitchen and felt like the third wheel. Just perfect.

"Ready to go?" Christian noticed her first. To be fair, he was facing her, but wasn't that always the way? Tino had never noticed her first. Maybe not even ever at all.

"Yup."

Tino glanced at her, then turned back to Christian. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I've had a few." Christian pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. "We can get a Grab."

"And my car?" She hated when Tino made decisions for her. Especially when they made sense.

Tino's eyebrows went up. "You drove?"

She gave him a look. "My date, my car."

Christian gave her a wink and a half-smile. She didn't know him well, but one of the things that had attracted her to him was that although he was hot, he wasn't aggressively hot. There was something to be said for polite muscles, and guys who had no problem being in the passenger seat. "We can pick it up tomorrow."

"I can drive."

She blinked as both guys looked at each other, then turned their heads at the same time to look at her. She had the urge to giggle. She was drunk, there were two hot guys offering to take her home, and ... she was so drunk. But not, she admitted to herself, drunk enough to be immune to the attention. Maybe it was the tequila still in her system, or maybe it was being in the presence of her damnably attractive but unattainable best friend, or maybe it was that kiss less than an hour ago, but she could feel a familiar tingle spreading through her body. The tingle that usually had her diving under the covers—or the shower—and putting her phone on DND for an hour while she indulged herself.

"Keys?" While she tried to compose herself, Tino had made his way over to her corner of the wall.

How was she supposed to think with Tino standing so close? Christian was still looking at her with that cute half-smile, and she was paralysed. By horniness.

She blamed the tequila.

It was much safer than acknowledging the sudden change in temperature that had nothing to do with the airconditioning, and everything to do with Tino's warm breath as he leaned over, one eyebrow up, to reach into her pocket. And Christian's eyes as they settled into a half-closed smoulder that had her heart beating double—no, triple—time.

"Cassandra?"

Tino's question sounded strange. She didn't know what he was asking, first of all. His hands hovered over her hips, not quite touching. She kept her eyes on Christian, who leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. Waiting.

"You can drive if—" She licked my lips, her mouth felt so dry. Tino's eyes dropped to follow her tongue. "If you can find them."

That wasn't what she'd planned to say. But Tino's eyes blazed in a way she had never seen before, so instead of taking the words back, she waited.

He put his hands on her hips.

...
Props to author Six de los Reyes for introducing me to the concept of "polite muscles".