Calder steps around me and sticks a spoon into the pot of boiling water. The pasta is so bloated and soggy that it falls apart even as he’s scooping it up.
“I think I jinxed it,” I whisper.
“Well,” he says, looking up from the pot and giving me a small smile. “I hope you like Pop-Tarts.”
The giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it. “I love them.”
We end up heating up the chicken soup as well, and Calder grabs some wine from the shelf.
“At least I have one bottle of the good stuff left.”
“We don’t have to drink your last bottle,” I say. “You should save it for something special.”
His eyes bore into mine. “Isn’t this something special?”
My cheeks go hot, and I quickly look back down at my soup. Before he can comment once again on how poorly I take compliments, I say, “It’s your turn to ask me, you know. Assuming we’re still playing our game.”
I dare a glance up from my bowl and find him still watching me. My heart stutters a little in my chest. This past week I felt like he was slipping away from me, but right now he’s here, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
The corner of his mouth quirks up, but his voice is low, serious. “Which will it be, then? Truth or dare?”
If the oven mitt hadn’t caught fire, I’m fairly certain we would have broken his “no sex” rule already tonight. Maybe I can make up for it now.
“Dare,” I say. If he gives me something even half as good as his first dare, I’ll have him eating out of my hand.
Calder seems to have the same idea. He responds to my question by reaching out and running a single finger down the back of my hand. The sensation makes me shiver.
“Are you sure?” he says, his eyes darkening.
“Of course.”
He leans closer, and his finger continues its teasing strokes.
“I dare you,” he says, his voice husky, “to eat a pickle.”
Wait—what?!
I pull away from him. “Seriously?”
He nods. “A pickle.”
“That’s not a real dare!”
“Of course it is,” he says, smiling broadly. “And a pretty good one, if I do say so myself.”
“ do you mean by that?”to10You obviously don’t know how this game is played.”
“Oh, believe me, I know it quite well. If you dare someone to do something they’d already do willingly outside of the game, then what’s the point?”
“You’re supposed to push each other’s limits. Get a little taboo.”
“Now you’re stalling. Are you going to do it, or do you forfeit?”
“Of course I don’t forfeit!” I say, standing. “Fine, I’ll eat your stupid pickle.”
I stride across the kitchen and yank open the pantry door. I can’t believe he’s forcing me to eat a pickle. Asshole.
Still, I think as I look up at his smug grin. At least he’s having fun. And he needs a little fun right now.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself, and pop the lid off the jar. The smell of the brine hits me immediately, and I try not to gag. I shouldn’t have told him how much I hate pickles. I should have known he’d use it against me.
“You should eat the biggest one,” he says from over my shoulder.
“The dare didn’t include any size requirements,” I say. I stare down at the jar. Of course it’s whole dill pickles. He couldn’t have gone for slices or for those cute little ones or anything. Still, I don’t want him to think I’m wussing out, so I decide to go for the fattest, ugliest pickle of the bunch. Slowly, I reach down into the stinky juice. My fingers are going to reek for the rest of the night, but I try not to think of that. I capture one of the smelly beasts and pluck it from the jar.
I turn so that Calder can watch. It’s only then that the idea hits me, and though it requires me to endure the taste of this sucker for longer than necessary, the opportunity is too good to pass up.
I raise the pickle slowly to my mouth. It’s fat enough that I have to stretch my lips to encompass it all, but that only heightens the effect, I’m sure. I slide the end of it into my mouth and look up at him with as much coyness as I can muster. do you mean by that?”to10
He frowns. “What are you…”
His eyes widen when I begin to move the pickle slowly in and out of my mouth. I don’t even flinch when the taste hits my tongue. I’m too focused on making him squirm this time. I work my lips around the pickle, making my motions as suggestive as possible.
“Lily…”
I shoot him my best innocent What? expression as I continue at my task. Calder’s getting more flustered by the second. To my delight, he’s actually looking a little pink about the cheeks. Who knew I could make the sex god blush by fellating a pickle?
“You’re supposed to be eating the pickle,” he says.
I pull the pickle from my lips. “I am eating it. Euphemistically, of course. You never specified that I had to literally eat it.”
The look on his face is priceless. I’d gobble this whole thing down—literally this time—for the chance to see it again.
It’s a full minute before he can speak again.
“Fine,” he says. “Fine, you win. Just take that thing out of your mouth.”
Happily.
“You know,” I say, “it doesn’t have to be a pickle.”
“Don’t push it.”
I laugh as I toss the pickle in the trash. It’s fun to be on this side of the game for once. Calder’s shaking his head at me, but there’s humor in his eyes. I’ve surprised him by finally winning a round of our little game. And after our, uh, heated encounter before dinner, I know I’m wearing him down on the sex issue. I only hope I can continue to keep him off-balance.y heartbeat quickensit10
When we’ve finished eating, we return to the living room, and I sit next to him on the couch, drawing my feet up beneath me so I can turn and face him.
“It’s your turn now,” I say. “Truth or dare?”
Calder looks at me for a long moment. I know he’s weighing his options. In this game, he doesn’t trust me any more than I trust him.
“Truth,” he says.
I should be able to predict his answer by now, but I’m a little disappointed.
But maybe this is an opportunity, I tell myself. Maybe it would be good for me to stop thinking about sex and try to learn more about the man in front of me. He might not want to talk about all of the swirling rumors, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a million other things I might still learn about him.