No. Intentional.
Smiling, I thought about what to say next. I loved the ocean, but never was a fan of swimming in it, always content to sit on the beach or dip my toes in. But it felt as if I was wading into waist-deep water now with no idea what was swimming around me.
Options being?
I’d just taken a big step forward and was now in up to my chin.
I’d elaborate, but it’s against your rules.
Which one?
Since there were only two, and kissing wasn’t possible at the moment, I knew exactly which one. Another step and I’d be above my head.
Pretty sure ‘real talk’ would break your crossing the line rule.
Real talk. It’s what Beck and I used to say when one of us thought the other one was bullshitting. It was a way to say, “Spit it out,” and get honest. We had some pretty deep conversations because of it.
How so?
You want me to answer that?
This was the crossroads. I could feel it. If I responded, “Probably not,” we could end the conversation here. Proceed as planned. The other path had some pretty serious consequences. Mathieu was one thing. Losing Beck from my life would be devastation I wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to come back from.
On the other hand, Jules’s advice when I was hedging on going to France… “You don’t get to rewrite a moment you were too afraid to live.”
I do.
I was in the deep end now.
Option one, follow the rules, make small talk and say goodnight.
And option two?
We could play.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.
Meaning?
Truth or dare?
Was this really happening?
Truth.
How many times have you thought about our kiss since Saturday?
I took a deep breath, the fresh cabin air from a slight breeze off the lake spilling into my bedroom window. How many times? I had no idea.
Too many to count.
I got a smiley face for that.
Your turn, truth or dare.
Truth.
Thank goodness. I had no idea what I would’ve dared him.
