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“Dare.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she asks with a shake of her head. “Okay …” She glances around. I know she’s decided on the dare when her smile widens as she peers at the DJ booth.
“I dare you to grab the microphone and do your best impersonation of Britney Spears.”
My eyebrows lift. “Are you serious?”
She giggles. “Your drink is right there. Totally understand if you want to back out on your first dare.” She looks around us again. “There are a lot of business people around us.” She shrugs, and I take it for the challenge it is.
This woman has no idea how competitive I am. If I say I’m going to do something, I fucking do it. No questions.
“Hold this.” I hand her my shot glass and head straight to the DJ booth. I whisper in her ear to play my favorite Britney Spears song. The extra C-note I slip her has the song playing almost immediately.
When the opening chords for Britney’s “Toxic” start playing, a round of shouts go up around the party. A few more cheers sound on the beach as I grab the microphone.
From the moment the first words start, I’m on it, singing word for word. For good measure I throw in some of my dance moves. I scan the crowd for one woman. I make eye contact with Riley whose smile takes up her entire face. She’s clapping and singing along.
Underneath the lights from the party, I can see there’s a hint of misbelief in her eyes. As if she didn’t believe I’d get my ass up on this microphone and perform.
Hell, I might not be the best performer in my family—that’s my younger brother, Andreas—but I can hold my own, and I damn sure am not about to lose a game of truth or dare.
I wind my way over to Riley and sing the chorus directly to her while taking her chin in my free hand. Her dancing is thrown off beat slightly and a thrill buzzes through me. I know I affect her and there’s something powerful about that knowledge. That feeling propels me to grind my hips against her while still singing.
“Oh my god.” She laughs and covers her face.
I remove her hand and intertwine her fingers with mine as the song finishes. A chorus of applause sounds off around us. I keep my eyes trained on her as I hand someone behind me the microphone.
At the perfect time, a waiter approaches us, and I hand her a shot since I don’t know where she placed the other two. She downs the brown liquid without question. My gaze trails down the long line of her neck when she tips her head back—my mouth waters.
“My turn,” I say, my voice husky. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” She slams the empty glass on a nearby table.
Out of nowhere, two new shots appear in her hands.
“What’s your biggest fear?”
She stumbles, and I have to hold out my arm to keep her from falling.
“You’re just going right in there, huh?”
“You’re the one who opted for truth.” My words aren’t apologetic at all. I’ll personally choose dare all day every day.
“Biggest fear,” I prod.
“I heard the question the first time,” she replies. Riley eyes the drink in her hand, contemplatively. After a beat, her lips twist defiantly, and an almost overwhelming urge to call her agood girlcomes over me because I know she’s going to answer.
“Being used by someone I love.” Her answer comes out in almost a whisper. I’m barely able to make out what she says. But I do hear it. Riley’s expression is reticent, which tells me she’s recalling a time in which something like that happened to her.
The fingers of my free hand curl on their own accord. I want to demand to know who the fuck it was that used her. I want to know who it was, and I want their head on a fucking platter.
“I answered. Drink up,” she tells me, pulling me out of those dangerous thoughts.
I remind myself I have absolutely no business having this type of reaction over a woman I won’t ever see again after tonight. With that reminder, I down the shot in one gulp. I’m grateful for the burn as the whiskey goes down. It makes me almost completely forget about making her tell me who hurt her in the past.
“Truth or dare?” she asks.
I frown.
