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But for now, we do as we always do—we ignore it.
“Here, here.” He reaches over the table and taps his glass to mine, averting his eyes. “I’ll drink to that.”
We each take a sip of champagne and then continue on with dinner, our growing attraction placed on the back burner…for now.
After we finish our tasty meal, Hayden unbuttons his sleeves and rolls them up his corded forearms. “I’m ready to help with the cleanup,” he tells me.
Damn, I love a man who isn’t afraid to pitch in with the boring stuff.
“Awesome.” I stand and pick up the take-out container with what’s left of the mashed potatoes. “Let’s get started.”
“You got it.”
Together, we clear the table, placing the leftovers in the refrigerator and loading the dishwasher.
As Hayden hands me the last plate to put in, he remarks, “We make a good team, huh?”
“Yeah.” I smile at him. “We do.”
Closing the dishwasher, I turn it on.
With the cleanup completed, I run my hands down my leggings and ask, “So, what now?”
Cocking a brow, a move I once despised but am starting to adore, he says, “There’s still quite a bit of champagne left. We could finish it off?”
Is this a good idea?
Catching a buzz and lowering our inhibitions?
Oh, hell, what’s the worst that could happen?
I don’t know, but a part of me really, really wants to find out.
So, smiling slyly, I say, “Let’s do it.”
Hayden
The look Addison gives me when I suggest polishing off the bottle of champagne tells me everything I need to know—this fiery attraction between us is about to explode.
So be it, I say.
I’m tired of holding back and keeping my feelings for her in check.
And, fuck, it looks like she feels the same way.
Why else would she have just suggested playing a potentially dangerous game like Truth or Dare?
We’re more than halfway through the Dom, and we’re seated in her living room, our shoes kicked off and piled under the coffee table.
From my perch on the love seat, I look over at her on the sofa and level her with a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you want to playthatgame, sweetheart?”
“Huh.” She taps her chin. “I think we’re already playing, seeing as that sounds like dare number one. Like, do you dare me to play?”
“Okay, fair enough.” I chuckle. “I’m obviously going first. Sooo… Do you accept that dare?”
She takes a sip of champagne, and, setting her flute down on the coffee table with a loud clink, she nods. “I sure as hell do, seeing as the game was my idea.”
Laughing, I concede, “True.”
