His smooth voice elicits a satisfied grin from her, and she answers him without a second thought. “Nope.”
Adam snickers as most of the circle laughs at Kayla’s expense. She blushes beet red when she realizes her mistake, and then she swallows her penalty drink. When she sets her cup back down and her cheeks are still rosy, Adam rewards her with a big, genuine smile that makes me bristle.
Someone really needs to explain to him that harebrained idiocy is not freaking cute.
Neither is the way she keeps licking her lips or playing with her hair. When it’s my turn again, I’ve spent the last few minutes daydreaming about holding her down and shaving her head. I reluctantly direct my attention back to the pile and take my turn, drawing another “I never” card.
“Here it comes,” Dee says, fidgeting with anticipation. In high school, there was always one thing I could say that would ensure everyone else had to drink: “I never had sex.” But frankly, that’s the last thing I want Adam or any of the rest of these guys to know. I’d never hear the end of it—I’d be a walking, talking pariah. I can only imagine the way they’d look at me if they knew.
There are so many things I haven’t done, my options for this turn are pathetically endless. I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket, I’ve never cheated on a test, I’ve never trespassed, I’ve never skinny-dipped. Finally, I settle on, “I never had a one-night stand.” I’m not ashamed of this one, and I smirk, knowing I’ve still got everyone pegged.
Shawn nods appreciatively, and Adam raises his cup in a mock toast. Everyone—even Leti—has to take a drink.
“You’re missing out!” Zoey says to me, but it’s obvious her comment is meant for Adam’s benefit—letting him know just how down she is for a one-night stand. I don’t even try to hide my eye-roll. Kayla catches it, but I don’t care. She’s been inching closer and closer to Adam since we started playing, and if she ends up on his lap, I swear to God I’m going to find an excuse to spill my beer on her.
When it’s her turn again, she picks the “rule maker card,” which means she gets to make a rule for the game. “Okay,” she says, flicking her loosely curled midnight-black hair over her shoulder, “so how about . . . when a player picks a seven, they have to kiss someone in the circle.” She smiles brazenly at Adam. “Their pick.”
When Zoey giggles, the two sluts share a secret smile that seriously makes me want to bash their heads together. Even though Joel invited them here, we all know who they’d pick, and it definitely isn’t Joel. Seven is a card that hasn’t been drawn yet, so they’re maximizing their chances. For hollow-skulled twits, they definitely know how to strategize.
Unfortunately for them, I pick the first seven. Dee’s shrill squeal breaks me from my shock. She claps her hands together, and Leti stares at me with animated awe lighting his eyes like fireworks, like I’m about to unlock the secrets of the universe or do something equally epic.
“This should be good,” Joel says, angling his body for a better view. Everyone’s eyes are on me.
I look at Adam first, because I suck and have no impulse control. He’s staring back at me, his expression utterly unreadable. I quickly force my eyes to the floor and curse myself for blatantly glancing at him the minute I saw my card. Knowing I have to cover up the slip, I look up at Joel, and then at Shawn. I force my eyes to travel all around the circle until my gaze lands on Dee. She widens her eyes in warning, and that’s all she needs to do for me to know what she’s thinking. I can practically hear her frantic inner monologue: Don’t you dare do what you’re thinking of doing! Pick Adam! Pick him! Pick him or I’m going to glue your lips to his while you sleep!
“Dee,” I choose, ignoring her unspoken threats and shifting to face her. She’s my only real option. If I pick Adam, he’ll know I like him, and that will ruin everything. If I pick Joel or Shawn, they’ll think I like them, and that will just be awkward. Dee is safe, and no one ever specified what kind of kiss. A peck and we’ll be done.
“YES!” Joel abruptly shouts, slapping the ground. “THANK YOU GOD!”
“WAIT!” Mike hollers from where he’s still gaming with Macy in the corner of the room. “Hold on a second!”
Shawn laughs. “Mike, better pause that game and get over here!”
“I can’t pause it!” His fingers are moving like crazy over the controller, the glow of the TV illuminating his frantic face. “It doesn’t . . . I can’t . . . It doesn’t pause!”
Dee leans in and whispers, low so that only I can hear, “What are you doing?! Just pick Adam!”
I shake my head and pull away. “Just a peck,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear.
Dee sighs and impatiently puckers her lips, and I swear that Shawn, Adam, and Joel are all leaning in like they’re trying to memorize the curves of our lips. Mike nearly trips over his own feet as he runs over for a courtside seat, and I have to shake my head. Men—they all suck.
“You ready?” I ask Dee.
“Lay it on me, lover.”
Our lips touch and untouch in an instant, and I swear I can hear crickets chirping for a moment before Joel groans. “What the hell was that?” he complains. “That wasn’t even a kiss!” I can’t help smirking, but he frowns at us like we just stole his favorite childhood toy and smashed it with sledgehammers. “That could’ve been so fucking hot,” he whines.