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Who would’ve thought?
A second later, two hard bodies muscle their way on either side of me.
Zane and Dominic.
Landon sits on the other side of Dom, beside Elizabeth, and Beckett sits directly across from me, between Liam and Aric.
At least, I think it’s Liam and Aric.
How the heck does Piper expect me to remember all these names?
I recognize their faces—how could I not?—but I’m not sure I’ve ever had a full conversation with any of them.
Does that say something about me, and my antisocial tendencies, or about them?
“So, we’re playing truth or dare?” Beckett shifts slightly with a fluid strength that has my stomach doing a low backflip. How can he make something as simple as moving look sexy?
“Yup.” Piper burps, covers her mouth with her hand, and then begins to giggle. She sways slightly, and Zane quickly reaches a hand to steady her. She flashes him an appreciative smile before continuing. “The rules are simple. If you choose not to do the dare or tell the truth, you have to jump into the pool. Any questions? None? Good.”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Dom murmurs in my ear, his voice too low for anyone but me to hear.
“If we don’t feel comfortable with something, we can jump in the pool,” I respond back just as softly. “But people are drunk enough that we might get information out of them if we press our luck.”
Zane leans forward on my other side, obviously having overheard the last bit of my sentence. “And what do you suppose we do? Ask if any of them are a part of a murderous cult?” Amusement sparkles in his dark eyes as if, yes, he’s considering doing just that.
“Haven’t you heard of subtlety?” I knock my shoulder against his.
“I’ve heard of it. Don’t like it. Ten out of ten, do not recommend.”
“I’ll go first!” Piper slurs. “Um…Aric, truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you to…” Piper taps a finger against her chin as she contemplates. “I dare you to give Jonny a lap dance.”
Aric grins mischievously and almost immediately jumps to his feet in the hot tub, moving toward the other man, who’s sitting on the edge.
I turn my attention away, not interested in the show they’re putting on.
“I’m sure there are questions we could ask them to get them to open up,” I whisper to Dom and Zane, who have both leaned closer to me, their shoulders brushing mine. “Maybe we could ask them about their religion or the worst thing they’ve ever done…”
“Maybe.” Dom tilts his head to the side contemplatively. “They could be drunk enough to answer honestly.”
“And then we kill them,” Zane pipes in gleefully.
“No,” Dom and I say at once.
Zane pushes his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Maim them?”
“No,” we repeat.
“Cut out their tongues, smush them down using a rolling pin, and then use the tongues to create nooses to hang them from?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Dom asks bluntly.
Zane merely blinks. “My therapist says it's psychopathy. I believe it’s Elliepathy.”
I instinctively rest my head on Zane’s shoulder, and he kisses the crown of my hair.
