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Pulling my eyes away from his, I train my gaze across the room, feeling unsure of what to say next. I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know how to begin to break through that impenetrable wall between us and find our way back to each other.
Seconds tick by like the slow-moving hand of a clock as I feel him watching me, the weight of his unwavering stare feeling like it’s raking across every inch of my skin. I’ve never felt as acutely aware of him as I do now. His presence feels like it’s consuming every inch of this room.
“Do you wanna play Truth or Dare?” he suddenly speaks up, and my eyes snap to him, the playful gleam twinkling in his eyes, cracking that sheet of ice between us and allowing the sun’s warmth to seep through.
“We have a long night, may as well do something to kill time.” He shrugs, his lip kicking up into a smirk, and as hard as I try, I can’t seem to stop the relieved smile that’s spreading on my face.
This is us.
Owen Parker and Mackenzie Scott battling it out to see who comes out on top. Challenging each other is what we do; as childish and ridiculous as it may seem, this is what we know.
“Sure, why not.” I shrug my shoulders back, trying to act as blasé as usual, even though my insides are doing backflips in excitement.
“Okay, well, I get to go first.”
My eyes narrow. “Why do you get to go first?”
“Because it was my brilliant idea, that’s why.” He smiles brightly, and I roll my eyes.
“Truth or dare?” He fires off, not wasting any time, and I take a moment to consider the best option. If I pick dare, he’ll probably make me do something ridiculous like the chicken dance or something, and God knows what secrets he will try to pry out of me. But with my life being relatively boring until recently, I figure that going with the truth is better than being humiliated.
“Truth.”
A sly smirk spreads on his face, instantly making me regret my decision, and I swallow hard as I wait for his question.
“Who was your first kiss?”
Heat prickles along my skin. This is one of the many secrets that no one other than Lexi was made privy to, and it has nothing to do with who it was. It’s because I didn’t have my first real kiss until senior year.
I was a late bloomer, and I’m fairly certain I was the only girl left in our senior class who had remained untouched.
“Jacob Fitzgerald,” I finally say, and Owen’s eyes darken slightly before narrowing into what looks like a scowl.
“That nerd from chemistry class who always smelled like Altoids?”
I throw him a chastising look, and he rolls his eyes, letting out a huff. “Damn, I never would’ve thought the guy had it in him.”
“Well, he did,” I deadpan, and his jaw visibly clenches. “Besides, it’s not like kissing is rocket science.”
“For him, it probably was. He probably spent weeks researching every fine detail in the art of kissing before making his move,” he responds bitterly, then casts me a sidelong glance. “So when did it happen?”
“Uh-uh. It’s only one question at a time, remember?” I remind him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs begrudgingly, and I bite back the smirk creeping on my lips over how wound up he’s getting.
“Truth or dare?” I ask him.
“Truth.”
“Who was your first kiss?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously before answering, “Eliza Jenkins.”
My jaw drops. “Violet’s best friend?”
“It was before we started dating,” he defends. “Besides, it was only one time.”
Jealousy rears its ugly head at the thought of Eliza’s lips touching his and her sharing that profound moment in his life when he experienced his first kiss. I can’t help but wish it had been me to experience all his firsts. However, considering I shared all of mine with other people, I retract the claws of jealousy and attempt to calm the raging beast.
