Lil tilts her chin up at me, and I stare down at her. “When you won’t let me hold the comic book because you think that I’ll crease the pages.”
I almost laugh. “That’s your biggest issue with me, love?”
She says, “It’s much more annoying than you realize.” She nods adamantly about this.
I’m possessive over my comics—that hasn’t changed since forever. “I won’t even let anyone else but you borrow seventy-five percent of them.”
“I appreciate that,” she says. “But some of them are mine.”
“This is also true.” I realize I’m possessive over all comics then.
Lily has another turn to ask a truth or dare, and she focuses on Ryke this time. Only she’s avoiding his eyes. Great. She’s still scared of him after being aroused by basically the entire male population. Fictional and real.
“Truth or dare?” Lily asks, her voice quiet.
“Dare,” Ryke says, even more pissed by her cagy attitude. “Can you look at me?”
“No.”
He groans. “Why do you keep acting like I have a disease, Lily?”
I cut in, trying to make this easier for her, especially as she turns bright red again, “It’s not your turn to ask questions.”
Ryke glowers. “I really don’t want to fucking talk to you right now.”
Fine. I’m mostly to blame for his sour mood anyway. I nudge Lil, and she straightens up.
“I dare you to…do a handstand for thirty seconds.”
Sam finally drops his palm at this chaste dare. I wonder if there’s a possibility that fatherhood made him more conservative.
My hand falls to Lily’s abdomen. Kick, I stupidly command to our son.
Yeah, he does nothing, and I end up rubbing circles with my thumb on Lil’s stomach. She places her hand on top of mine. I exhale the restraint in my lungs.
I can’t even fathom how much I may change after having a kid. I wonder whether it’ll be a better me or a worse one.
To follow through with the dare, Daisy slides off my brother’s lap, and then Ryke rises to his feet. He easily places his palms on the ground and uses his upper-body strength to force his legs erect. Camera flashes from cellphones go off in waves.
Lily isn’t even watching Ryke, but Daisy leans over the couch armrest and whispers to her boyfriend. She must say something funny because his dark expression brightens a fraction.
When he finishes, easily landing back on his feet, he returns to the couch and holds Daisy again.
“I hoped you would roll over,” Connor quips. “I didn’t even get to rub your belly.”
Ryke is not amused. He doesn’t even flip him off this time. Shit.
Connor acts like he’s not intimidated, but the look in my brother’s eye—one that says attack—is not usually directed at us. I recoil as he says to Connor, “Dare or fucking dare?”
Connor finishes off his wine and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between the two couches. “I know in your own made-up language, adding a curse word changes the definition of the subsequent word, but to the rest of us, it’s all the same.”
“Dare or fucking dare?” Ryke doesn’t back down.
Connor takes his hand off Rose’s and he rubs his lips, as though trying to hide his irritation. But I can’t tell for sure. “I pick the only choice you’re giving me.”
And then Ryke says, without missing a beat, “Kiss Loren. For thirty fucking seconds.”
Yeah.
He got us both back in one strike.
My stomach has caved.
And my eyes flit up to Connor, who is studying me, mostly. I can’t read his expression, but he’s definitely not uncomfortable like most people would be.
I’m confident in my sexuality enough to do the dare—I just worry about the cameras pointed at us and how this’ll affect his reputation more than my own. He has more to lose, being the CEO of Cobalt Inc.
I notice that Sam has covered his eyes again, acting like this is not happening. It may not.
“Can’t fucking do it?” Ryke challenges Connor, who I doubt has ever quit a game, even a “juvenile” one.
Without removing his gaze from mine, Connor says, “I’m just weighing my options.” He’s not Rose. Ryke’s phrase would’ve egged her to do it, too prideful not to—but Connor is more logical about his actions.
And then he rises. “Stand up,” he commands to me.
“Are you sure—”
“I can handle the backlash,” he says, and his eyes briefly flicker to Ryke. I get it. He values his friendship with Ryke this much—that he’s willing to risk criticism or a new headline in the tabloids just to even the playing fields again. “Stand up.”