Theo’s not a regret I want to have when my life flashes before my eyes in fifty years or so.
“Are you ready?” His voice travels through the closed bedroom door, and a tap of his knuckles follows.
“I think so.” I readjust the straps of the backless dress with a modest cleavage at the front. “You can come in.”
The door opens inward. I watch in the mirror as Theo steps into the room. He’s dressed in chinos and a V-neck t-shirt, a silver cross around his neck hanging down his chest.
Air moves with him, and the scent of earthy cologne fans my face. Slowly, I spin on the silver heels, self-conscious and pleased at the same time, when Theo’s rapt attention focuses on my body.
“You look...” His chest rises and falls faster, and a muscle feathers his jaw when his eyes jerk to meet mine. “You want me to kill someone tonight?”
“Any complaints should be directed at your brother and his husband-to-be. I didn’t buy the dress. Also... I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Damn right it’s a compliment. You look hot.”
I take a small clutch bag off the bed, crossing the room to stop in front of him, so close our feet almost touch.
“You smell so nice,” I huff, inhaling the air around him.
“You always say that.”
“Because you always smell nice. And you look rather handsome too. Are we supposed to write the truth now or when we get to Nico’s? What kinds of truths are we talking about here?”
“Whatever springs to mind. An odd, funny, random, or dirty fact about you that you don’t normally shout from the rooftops.” He pulls out a black permanent marker from his pocket. “Do mine first.”
I take the cap off, ironing his shirt with my hand, dazzled by the hard, well-defined muscles under my palm. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly perfect? Even the deep, rough scar marking his cheek is beautiful.
“I know the difference,” he dictates casually, “Between hard and fast.”
My hand trembles and my cheeks burn hotter when memories of his body pinning me to the couch a few weeks ago invade my mind. Is he doing this on purpose? Does he know he makes my heart skip a few beats with one heated look?
“I thinkhardandfastshould be in capitals,” I mutter, focused on the task.
“Sounds good.”
I don’t see his face, but his voice is laced with amusement. Heisdoing this on purpose.
The bastard.
I inhale a deep breath, handing the marker back. My body is ruled by fits of shivers, the ache between my legs unbearable, but two can play this game. “Do you know the difference betweendon’t stopandkeep going?”
His darkening eyes, brimming with warmth, spell out mischief. God, it’s good to know I’m getting to him. “Keep goingis an encouragement for the guy who can’t find the right spot.Don’t stopis praise for the guy who knows exactly where that spot is.” He runs his hand down my side, stopping on my hip. “Do you know the difference betweenhold itandhold on?”
“Hold itis an order.” I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. “Hold onis a promise.”
Theo swallows hard, placing his hand firmly on my waist, a marker in hand. “What am I writing on you?”
Andpoof, the moment passes.
Is there something fundamentally un-fuckable about me? Why is he so adamant about keeping at a distance? The electric current between us grows in strength every day and proportionally grows his resistance.
“I’m having second thoughts. I might’ve gone too far with honesty,” I say, trying to come up with a less incriminating truth. “How about,this dress is too tight for panties.”
His eyes snap to me, popping wide as he grinds his teeth, his breaths sawing in and out. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He grips my hip, fingers digging into the thin fabric. He’s probably feeling for the outline of my underwear that isn’t there. “You’re not lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“I’m not writing that. You’ll be eye-fucked all evening, and I’ll definitely kill someone. Manysomeone’s. All two hundred of them. Pick a different truth and put on a pair of fucking panties.”