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Maybe I should take advantage of it while I can…

My heart pounds as her lips curve into a smile. This is as honest as I’ve been with her all night. Telling her how I feel might be the stupidest thing I ever do, but it feels right. Just as I open my mouth to confess how much I want to get to know her more, Jake’s strangled voice interrupts, killing my chance.

“Becs. Help me,”

I glance over to see Jake’s arms flailing above his head as he struggles to unsmother his face from between a set of very large breasts. Becca laughs as she stands up and saunters over there. She jumps up on the stage, wraps her arm around the dancer’s waist and spins her into her arms. A second stripper quickly joins in from behind.

This display isn’t doing much to cure the thoughts in my head, or the reaction in my pants, but I have to admire her dedication to helping Jake, who has managed to crawl off the stage and collapse into the seat next to me.

The sight of Becca being double grinded is putting me into a bit of a bind. She meets my gaze, a smirk spreading across her lips when she realizes what she’s doing to me, then she starts to really get into it. Is she trying to make me…I shake my head and groan, because that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. And if I keep watching this, it’s going to work.

The guys cheer as Becca twirls off the stage and parks herself in between Jake and me. He throws his arms around her, almost in tears, thanking her for risking her life to save his.

“Relax, Jake. Your life wasn’t in danger. At least, not like it was on your eighteenth.”

Becca giggles as Jake goes bright red. I smile, because now I have to know the story.

“Jake,” I say in my sternest voice. “Tell Cousin Liam what happened?”

He sighs and hangs his head in shame.

“We had this teacher. Her name was Miss Muffy—”

“Muffy?” I repeat with a laugh. “A high school teacher named Miss Muffy?”

“Everything you’re thinking about her is probably right on track.” Becca laughs. “She was this tiny little thing with huge boobs.” I swallow as she grabs hold of her own breasts to emphasize her point. “Who dressed like a playboy bunny. Anyway, the night Jake turned eighteen, we got into my dad’s scotch stash and we had a little too much to drink—”

“I thought scotch tasted like smelly assholes,” I cut in.

She glowers at me. “Just because I drank it didn’t mean I liked it.”

Fair enough.

“So anyway, Becca had the bright idea to play truth or dare,” Jake cuts in, wrapping his arm around Becca. “First question, she has me confessing my crush on Miss Muffy.”

“You and the rest of the male student population,” Becca adds.

“She thought it would be hilarious to use that information and dare me to ride over to Miss Muffy’s house and serenade her.”

“What did you expect when you chose dare?” She laughs. “Of course I was going to abuse it. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t provide you with embarrassing stories to live down over the next fifty years?”

“You realize that makes no sense, right?” Jake growls. “Anyway, none of that matters now, because it’s payback time.”

“Oooh, should I be scared? You think you can out dare me, or something?” she teases.

“Of course I can. Hell let’s just fuck the truths off altogether.”

“Hey, wait a minute. What happened with Miss Muffy?” I protest.

Becca winks at me. “Let’s just say it wasn’t her ‘curds and whey’ she was eating.”

I cringe. I’ll never look at that nursery rhyme the same way again.

The last time I played truth or dare was back in high school. I try to point out why this is a bad idea, but my protests go ignored as Jake rallies his friends together. Most of them are so drunk by now that the only way that this can end is badly.

“You first,” Becca says to Jake, tapping him on the chest. She grabs his phone and sidesteps out of his reach. “I’m assuming dare?”

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Becca smiles sweetly at him. “Making your life hell.” She taps out a message, then tosses the phone to me, a smirk on her lips. “Five minutes, and then you can see what I just wrote to Brooke.”

“No, Becs, that’s playing dirty,” he protests, trying to grab the phone off my lap. I hold it above his head, laughing as I read it.

Jake: It’s me. Please don’t be mad at me, but there’s something you need to know.“Tell me it’s nothing,” Jake pleads.

“Well, technically, what she wrote is harmless, but Brooke is definitely going to kill you,” I conclude.

“Why? Why are you trying to ruin my life?” Jake groans. He lunges for the phone again, but this time Garry wraps his giant arms around his friend, kissing him on the neck. “Get off me, Garry,” Jake growls.

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