Truth or Date (8 page)

“Letting? You have a strangely broad definition of that word.” Scooching in beside me, Chris brought the brown bottle to his lips, taking a swig of beer as we listened to the heartfelt lyrics. “This song is depressing. How can you stand it?”

Under the table, I bounced my knee into his in protest. “It’s romantic.”

He listened to a few more lines, set his bottle on the table, then scoffed. “See? Depressing. They’re fighting.”

“So?” I enjoyed the angst and agony in the singer’s voice. All the tension building up meant an increased ah-factor when they got back together in the end. “The song finishes on a happy note with them working things out. It’s a great choice. Thanks for agreeing with me.”

“I see you have a broad definition for the word
agreeing
as well.” Spinning the bottle between his palms, he shook his head. “Relationships shouldn’t be that difficult.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “How would
you
know?”

Ooops, had I said that aloud?

A perplexed look crossed his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged, not wanting to answer. We’d just gotten our light banter back and I didn’t want to lose it. After all, his last day at work was tomorrow and I didn’t want us to part on a bad note. But, then again, he
had
asked (and I’d had several beers at the pub prior to this) so it suddenly seemed like a good idea to say what I thought. “It’s just. . . You date around. A lot.”

Instead of being bothered or insulted, his eyes danced. “You’ve been paying attention to who I date? That’s cute, sweetie.”

My cheeks heated and I tried to play it off by taking a sip of my Midori Sour but it only made him laugh harder. I shook my head. “I wasn’t paying specific attention or anything. It’s pretty obvious to everyone in the office that you hop from date to date. I mean, you never bring the same girl to a company event twice.”

He raised his brows, finished off his beer, then patted the table as he pushed to his feet. “You want another?”

“Sure.” If I kept putting my foot in my mouth, maybe it would dull the embarrassment. So he dated a lot. Why was I making a big deal about it? I rolled my eyes at my unintended jealousy, downed the rest of my bright green drink, then bit the cherry off its stem. The sweet maraschino flavor burst in my mouth as I chewed on the squooshy artificially-preserved fruit.

Glancing over at Chris as he leaned against the bar, I decided, had been a bad idea. Warmth flooded through me and I stared long enough to notice how his back tapered down to a narrow waist above very snugly fit slacks. Lucky pants. Wait, was I seriously checking Chris out right now?

I tore my eyes away, thrust the cherry stem between my teeth, and tried to work the ends over each other to distract myself from the very real urge I had to wrap my arms around his waist. Maybe these weird feelings were because his last day was coming. In fact, this could be the last time we hang. Ever. A pang jolted through me.

While I threw myself deep into stem-in-a-knot mode, he returned setting a glass, filled with my deliciously green drink, in front of me. “What were we talking about?”

“The weather.” I removed the knotted stem and adjusted the soft white strap on my shoulder. “How nice the weather is for December in northern California.”

“Right.” He took a sip of beer, leaned back in the booth, then turned his baby blues toward me. “You’re a fairly amusing girlfriend. You know that?”

Tingles shot down my neck and over my shoulders. “So we
are
still together. The way you ignored me over drinks earlier, I suspected I’d been dumped.”

He picked at the label on his bottle. “John seemed to be keeping you pretty entertained.”

I frowned. “Yes, but he’s not who I planned to spend time with tonight.”

His arms spread out across the booth, his hand bumping up against my shoulder. “It appeared you spent time with quite a few people tonight.”

Ouch. Maybe that’s why he’d been acting cold. Ethan. “I thought we resolved that outside the bathroom,” I joked.

With an unreadable expression, he stared at the ripped up pieces of paper on the table then lifted his lashes. “You like him?”

“Come on, Chris.” I squirmed in my seat. I’d looked forward to playing girlfriend/boyfriend with him all day. Actually, to be honest, probably since last night when he asked me to come with him. And this was probably our last night together. Why did he have to ruin it by asking questions I didn’t know the answers to? Why couldn’t we just forget Ethan and work and making sure I fell for a guy who could commit? So much pressure. I’d rather relax and have a good time with Chris. Gaze into his hypnotic blue eyes. . . .

Leaning forward, he nudged my arm with his wrist. “Answer me.”

I shook my head, then sucked down Midori through a tiny red straw. I kept my voice light. “I already promised never to cheat again. What more do you want?”

Oh, he would chill out and play this game with me even if I had to coax him into it.

He studied me a moment, then slid toward me so that our thighs were flush against each other. He slipped his arm behind my shoulders so he practically cradled me. “Truth or Dare?”

Wrong game. And was it hot in here?

I breathed in the scent of his spicy cologne, then gulped. “I started Truth or Dare so you can’t take a turn until I ask you something. Sorry, those are the rules and we always follow the rules.”

He leaned closer. So close that our mouths were almost touching, the scent of pale ale blurring my senses. “You played your turn last night.”

I swallowed, wondering if he realized how close he’d gotten. He had to realize it. Right? Not that I wanted him to move . . . “You’re bluffing. I don’t remember that.”

He brushed a curl away from my face, his fingers skimming my jaw and shooting tingles down my neck. “You asked me about the girl who broke my heart at work.”

Oh, right. Her. I bit my lip. “I did.”

“Finally, you’re remembering.” His baby blues flashed and it amazed me how much they stood out even in the dim lighting. “So . . . tell me the truth.”

The man’s voice on the jukebox kept wailing
I’m in over my head, over my head
, as if he were crying out the words solely for me. “You know I never choose Truth.”

He tilted his head down and lowered his lashes. “I’ll bet I can make you.”

I sucked in a breath, my eyes dropped to his mouth. “Not possible.”

He paused, mere centimeters away from me, and it was like the world stopped. “Truth or Kiss?”

My belly fluttered immediately, but even in my emotional haze I knew a kiss would be a colossal mistake—so I grabbed onto a lifeline. “Second rule in Truth or Dare . . . no bodily contact with someone else.”

“Exactly.” Chris smiled, his other hand dropped to my waist, and his fingers curled against me. “Someone
else
. No rule against bodily contact with
each other
.”

A freaking loophole. Why did I have the feeling he’d been waiting to play that card?

“What’s it going to be, Gina?” His eyes searched mine. “Truth or Kiss?”

Although both words echoed in my head, there wasn’t a choice. I couldn’t back down, wouldn’t back down, didn’t
want
to back down. Tingles danced in my belly. “Like I said, I never choose Truth . . .”

Blame the Midoris, blame the sappy music, but my vow went wayside. As soon as I made a slight move forward, his lips captured mine. Soft. Warm. Amazing. A completeness I’d never known washed through me as our mouths held each other.

Energy pulsed between us, then burst throughout my entire body. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized this was wrong, that I should pull away, but it was like an invisible rope pulled me to him and I felt helpless against it.

Connecting with Chris on this level felt exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time. His hand threaded through the back of my hair, then his lips parted and his tongue brushed against mine. Oh, wow.
Wow
. Electric darts jolted through me and my heart pounded wildly. Completely lost in him, I swayed and had to grab the table with my other hand to keep steady.

Chris Bradley was kissing me. Drinking me in as if he couldn’t get enough. The feeling was mutual and each taste of him set every nerve in my body on alert. Why had I waited so long to do this? Wait . . . why
had
I waited so long?

Oh, right. George. Commitment. My pattern of picking guys who wanted nothing to do with it. . . .

Realizing I’d done exactly what had screwed me over the first time, I pulled away abruptly, shocking him and myself as well. The sudden emptiness felt like a cold rush between us and left my chest hollow.

We stared at each other as both of us fought to catch our breath.

I really, seriously, needed to start picking Truth.

****

“You’re home late.” Kristen sat on the couch and twisted toward the front door as I opened it.

“You’re
up
late.” The cab pulled away from the curb behind me and I turned, shut the door, and locked it. I’d have to get my car tomorrow, but there’s no way I was legal to drive after the number of drinks I had tonight.

She pushed up the sleeves of her flannel pajamas. “Where were you?”

“Out.” Since she had an early routine, I’d been hoping she’d be fast asleep and I wouldn’t have to explain the horrible mistake I’d made tonight.

“With who, Gina?” She patted the cushion next to her. “I talked to Ethan earlier, so you obviously weren’t with him. Great dress, by the way.”

“Thanks.” My world may be collapsing but at least my new dress was a hit.

Chirp! Chirp!
My phone went off inside my purse. I checked the screen and it was from Chris:
Are you home yet? We need to talk.
 

Oh, no. We so didn’t need to talk. I barely had the strength to get out of there. It was an insane attraction, that’s all there was to it. Heaps and tons of extremely, hard-core attraction. Who could blame me for the slip? He’s irresistible—like cookie dough ice cream, only lathered with whipped cream and hot fudge as well. How was I supposed to hold out against someone that enticing?

I dropped onto the couch and moaned. “Help me. I kissed Chris tonight.”

Kristen plopped her feet up on the coffee table and wiped her hands together. “Your friend from work? Why?”

The reason was so embarrassing, but at this point I may as well be honest. “Because he makes me feel all tingly inside.”

She leaned her elbow against the couch. “I suspected this would happen. Gina, if you like him so much then what’s the problem?”

My head hung, stunned at what she’d said. I liked Chris? As in
liked
him liked him? On most levels I already knew that, but to have her say it aloud meant I couldn’t deny it anymore.

I brought my thighs to my chest and buried my nose between my knees. “He’s a total girl hopper and I do this, Kristen. I fall for guys who don’t want commitment. I’m like a bug drawn to the light and I can’t stop myself even though it’s going to kill me—or, at least break my heart and keep me single the rest of my life.”

She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I hate to state the obvious, but what about Ethan? He’s amazing and as part of the female species, you have to feel drawn to him. So why haven’t you invited him to the wedding?”

Keeping my nose to my knees, I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t know! Why don’t
you
tell
me
? You’re the counselor, right?”

My head whipped up and I pleaded with my eyes. Surely as a family counselor she had insight into relationship dynamics and knew how to work it. I mean, she selected Jake who seemed to be the definition of perfect. Except for the hardship of him wanting her all the time. Because that must bite. Not.

“The first step to
getting
what you want is
knowing
what you want.” Her voice seemed distant almost as if she were talking to herself. “Gina, what do you want?”

Her tone sounded annoyingly clinical, but at least the answer was obvious. “I want to marry a man I adore, have kids, and live happily ever after. I’m not interested in casual dating and I do not, I repeat I do
not
want to spend another decade with Mr. Wrong.”

Kristen shrugged. “Then, you have to break your bad dating pattern. You’re attracted to the wrong type of guy, one who’ll never give you the relationship you want. Choosing Mr. Wrong, as you put it, is comfortable because it’s what you’re used to. But you’re in control of your future. Keep making the same choices in life and you’ll keep seeing the same results.”

Ew! Was this what therapy was like? All in my face like that? No wonder I’d never gone. “Let’s say you’re right, Dr. Kristen. Can you translate all that human psyche jargon into what I’m supposed to do?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me Dr. Kristen. It makes me sound like a radio talk show host with a degree from Lala Land University.” She shuddered. “What I’m suggesting, basically, is to ignore the tinglies you feel around Chris. They’re leading you astray.”

Easier said than done depending on the quantity of Midori Sours consumed. I lowered my lashes. “Even on our best day, George and I’d never had a tenth of the chemistry Chris and I do. It’s all so fun and easy with him.”

Raising her brows at me, she said, “Except it won’t be fun when he moves on to another girl next month. You said that’s what he does, right?”

“Yes.” My body felt numb, knowing I had to be strong. “I caved once, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Good.” She gave a terse nod. “Call Ethan up, first thing in the morning, and ask him to be your date at Ellen’s wedding. He’s a phenomenal guy, definitely wants to be married, have a family, the whole shebang—everything you want. You do like him, right?”

Tears burned my eyes. Why did finding love have to mean fighting against what you feel? “Sure, I like him. He’s really nice.”

“Then make the healthy choice and pick Ethan. Break your pattern. Unless you want a broken heart or to spend the next ten years trying, in vain, to get your playboy to commit.”