Truth or Dare: A Sweet Romantic Comedy Collection Read online

  “Do you really want to have your first kiss with Cameron like this? In front of all of us? You’re already risking your friendship… Don’t you want to give your relationship the best chance?”

  Here’s the thing about best friends; they tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.

  Like the time I went to Katia’s birthday party wearing a dress that had been left in the washer too long.

  “You stink. Let’s get you changed,” Katia said. She grabbed my elbow and took me upstairs to give me another dress.

  At the moment, I hated her. But she was just looking out for me, and that’s what a true friend does.

  Right now, though, I don’t want her to look out for me. So I turn away from her disapproving look and grab the mouthwash.

  “Thanks, Katia,” I say through gritted teeth, opening the bottle. “But I’ll be fine.”

  Katia knows when to drop an argument. She leaves me alone and I take the time to freshen up for my big moment.

  Wolf whistles greet me as I return to the living room. Cameron is reclined on the couch, and everyone else is on the rug.

  Michelle dims the lights, Debbie lights candles in a uniform line on the coffee table, and I hope they don’t scratch the glass top; my parents will definitely notice that.

  That’s the stress of living in your grandmother’s condo. It’s great that my parents cover half of the costs, but there's the constant worry of messing things up.

  “Alright, ready for this?” Michelle asks. Cameron gives me a casual smirk as I sit next to him. I can’t decide if it’s the heat of the candles or his body, but my body is now on fire.

  “Okay, so how are we going to do this?” I ask. Cameron drags a hand through his thick hair and exhales. The puff of cool air could have sizzled if it made contact with my skin. “It’s just like kissing onstage,” he says.

  I’ve kissed guys in drama class before. But those experiences are not the kind I like to think about.

  There was Marty, with his horrible garlic breath. Justin gave slimy, wet kisses, apparently with no clue what to do with his tongue. And then there was Freddie. He was stiff as a board, with lips that were as dry as a desert.

  I inwardly shudder at the memory and blink at Cameron’s smooth, perfect lips instead. His words do little to calm my nerves and before I know it someone shouts, “Action!”

  Time stands still. Cameron is hovering a couple of inches from me, waiting for me to close the space between us. But his face disappears from view as I picture Katia, frowning at me.

  This is the moment I have been waiting for since I first met Cameron, but instead of taking the bull with both horns, I’m picturing my best friend.

  I catch sight of my friends in my peripheral vision. The room is painfully silent; I can only hear Ryder’s laptop fan whirring away. I lick my lips and swallow against the uncomfortable lump in my throat, wondering if Katia is right. Do I really want our first kiss to be like this?

  I clamp my eyes shut. “I can’t do this.”

  “Oh.”

  I sneak a peek at Cameron with a wince, and for a glimmer of a second, he looks back at me like I’ve just canceled Christmas. But then he shrugs, and his expression is nonchalant again. So, I’m not sure if I just imagined it.

  “I can’t do it like this, not with everyone watching,” I explain, looking around the room. Michelle sighs.

  “Well, you’ve got 24hrs to complete the dare. Otherwise, you have to do the forfeit.”

  “And what is the forfeit?” Debbie asks. The corner of Michelle’s narrow mouth lifts. “Oh, the usual. Skinny dipping in the Hudson.”

  Cameron’s brows rise. “I could get on board with that.”

  Now not only is my body on fire, but my cheeks are alight too. “We’ll do the video. I just need to do it… without an audience.”

  No one argues, thank goodness. And the arrival of pizza diverts everyone’s attention from me and the dare.

  “Stay over tonight, we’ll do the dare tomorrow,” I whisper to Cameron just as he takes a huge bite of pepperoni pizza.

  His cheeks bulge like a hamster and he chews thoughtfully, then he nods and my heart flutters.

  Sure, I just chickened out of my first kiss with Cameron, but the idea of doing this dare without prying eyes makes my imagination run wild.

  Cameron

  It’s not like Holly to suffer from stage fright. In fact, she’s the brightest, breeziest person I know. At school, she’d be the one to deliver the pep talk before a show. She’d be bouncing with excitement before the curtain rolled back. And she’s played spin the bottle before.

  I can’t work out what’s got into her today. So what if our friends are watching? It’s just a simple dare.

  Holly avoids looking at me for the rest of the evening and our challenge becomes the elephant in the room. It’s 3am before the music is finally switched off and the last of the guests––the lip lockers, Debbie and Mark––leave.

  They had no problem making out in front of us. It was funny at first, but now it’s getting old. I don’t know why those two even bother coming to the party. They just end up in a corner of the room, speaking to nobody and practicing mouth to mouth all night long.

  Funny how they had us all fooled that they hated each other. Turns out the line between hate and love is fine. Very fine indeed.

  The door closes and for the first time in hours, Holly looks at me. Her hair is frizzing at the ends and her dress is wrinkled from being curled up on the couch all night. But she still looks adorable.

  “Great party,” I lie. There wasn’t anything great about it. Not for me, anyway. Katia and Michelle scrolled on their phones and took selfies, while Jonah and Ryder swapped fan theories on some zombie TV show I’ve never even heard of. Debbie and Mark kept to themselves. So that left Holly and me on the couch. Which would have been cool if we had been bantering like we usually do. Tonight, she wouldn’t even look at me.

  So I pretended to be highly interested in the chick flick on the big screen and knocked back root beers until my blood started to fizz.

  “I’ll grab you some blankets,” Holly says, offering me a familiar smile. Her eyes sparkle and she turns to leave. Now alone in the living room, my chest grows heavy. It’s as if Holly took all of the air with her, leaving me to suffocate.

  “Back,” Holly says. Her voice is muffled, and her face is obscured by a giant cushion. A waft of her perfume washes over me as I take the bedding and my fingertips brush her smooth arms. The moment sends a shiver through me and I hear her breath hitch.

  What’s got into us?

  Has the idea of a fake makeout session really turned us into a couple of kids? I grin. She giggles. This is not normal.

  Usually, I’d pull her in for a hug and peck her cheek to say goodnight. No hesitation. Tonight, I take my time making up my bed on the couch and chew the inside of my cheek.

  Ideas are dangerous.

  Just the very thought of kissing my best friend has planted a seed in my mind. A seed that is growing like a weed, eating away all logical thought and taking over.

  I want to kiss her.

  It’s wrong. This is Holly, for crying out loud! But I want to grab her and kiss her like a dying man in the desert longs for a drink of water.

  The urge is an ache in the deep part of my stomach, and as I finally turn to face her again, I can’t take my eyes off her round, full lips.

  “Do you think we should practice this kiss, then?” her lips ask me. I find myself nodding as I swallow. That pretty mouth could have asked me anything and I would have said yes.

  Do you think the sky is brown? Yes.

  Do you want to clean the toilet with your bare hands? Sure.

  Do you want to eat a cricket? Why not?

  It just so happens she wants to practice the very act I can’t stop thinking about. I’m pretty sure there is a little green Leprechaun doing an Irish jig in my brain right now, but I keep my expression casual and relaxed.

>   “Now?” I ask. I'm trying my best to sound politely interested, and not like a little boy who has just been offered ice-cream for dinner.

  Holly crosses the room in a playful bounce and settles on my makeshift bed. She pats the space next to her and looks up at me with bright eyes.

  “We’ve been friends forever, let’s just have a quick practice so it’s not awkward when we do it on camera,” she says, playing with her hair.

  I join her on the couch and can’t stop grinning.

  “Excuse me, do what on camera?” I tease. Her cheeks grow crimson and she throws a pillow at me.

  “You know I didn’t mean that.”

  She laughs and I sit back to enjoy the moment. Seeing Holly laugh, with her shoulders shaking and pearly whites on show, settles my nerves. That’s the Holly I know. I pick up her hand.

  “So, how long do you think we need to kiss for it to count as a makeout session?” I ask. Holly stops laughing and stares at me for a second, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t know.”

  I squeeze her hand and tug on it, pulling her close.

  “Well, come on then,” I say. Holly giggles nervously, then she moves forward. The two of us linger a hair’s width apart. Holly’s blue eyes fill up all of my vision, like a summer’s sky, and I just gaze into them for a few moments. I had no idea her eyes are so blue. And they have a navy ring around the iris. On closer inspection, she even has a few specks of green in there as well. I spend so much time studying her eyes, that I forget what we’re supposed to be doing, but then Holly grasps a fistful of my shirt and the memory comes tumbling back at the exact moment her mouth closes on mine.

  Kissing Holly is not what I expected it to be. Granted, before tonight the thought never even crossed my mind. But in the last few hours, I imagined something passionate. Tantalizing. A heart-thumping, spine-tingling moment to happily replay in my mind every day for the rest of my life.

  But, it’s nothing like that. Not even close.

  Our mouths are off-sync and her front teeth bump against mine. It’s awkward. We’re barely seconds into the kiss when she loosens her grip on my shirt and slumps back, a look of defeat across her face.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt. I swear I’m a better kisser than that. The last time I had such an awkward time kissing a girl was in fifth grade. Back then I had no idea what I was doing. This time, I do. At least, I should know better.

  But something about kissing Holly makes me feel like that little boy with no idea what to do with his teeth.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Holly says, rising to her feet. “It’s late. We’re too tired for this. Let’s get some sleep and try again tomorrow.”

  Now I’m glad we tried to go for the practice run. The last thing I want is a video of us kissing, where it probably looks like Holly is trying to make out with a donkey. Actually, that’s offensive to donkeys. I’m 99% certain they kiss better than I just did.

  After Holly leaves and I turn out the lights, I stretch out with my arm above my head and stare at the shadows on the ceiling. Even though the sun will rise in a few hours, the street is still busy with traffic. That's life in New York, and tonight I’m glad for the distraction.

  I spend so much time staring at the ceiling and listening to the taxi cabs honking their horns that it seems like I blinked and the room was suddenly filled with morning sunshine.

  I blink again and Holly is standing over me with a plate of steaming waffles. The sickly-sweet aroma of maple syrup makes my stomach ache, but it’s my head that demands the most attention. It throbs with anger as I sit up.

  “I hope you slept okay,” Holly says. I want to laugh. I blinked twice, and hours passed by each time. I’m wrecked. But the plate of food on my lap has me smiling anyway.

  “I was thinking about our dare,” Holly says, twisting her hair as she perches on the edge of the coffee table. I make a humming sound between bites and shovel the waffles in my mouth. Holly pauses to watch with an amused expression on her face.

  “What do you think about going in the hot tub?”

  “That would be steamy,” I remark with a wink. Holly drops her hand. “Too steamy?” she asks.

  I smirk. “I was referring to all the steam coming from the tub.”

  Holly throws her head back and laughs heartily. Hands down, she has the loudest, most delightful laugh in the entire world. Oddly, it doesn’t hurt my head, either.

  “I like the idea,” I say. “I’m going to take a shower.” Holly points at me with a grin as I get up.

  “That would be steamy, too.” She’s being witty, I get it. But the joke conjures up an image in my mind that is anything but funny. The expression on my face must have given my thoughts away because Holly’s grin turns to a look of mortification. “Forget I said that,” she says, quickly.

  I chuckle as I leave the room and I don't think I'll be doing any forgetting. The idea of kissing Holly drove me into a frenzy, but the idea of kissing her in the shower is driving me wild.

  Holly

  That was a bad first kiss. A terrible kiss. The worst, most awkward kiss of my life.

  And yet, I can’t wait to try again.

  For the first time, Cameron acted nervous around me. His cheeks turned beet red, he stumbled over his words and he was trembling as we kissed. Or tried to kiss, anyway.

  I know for a fact Cameron James is an epic kisser. The girls at high school gossip about it. So there’s only one reason why he completely failed to sweep me off my feet. Nerves.

  Our first kiss might not have lived up to my expectations, but it broke the ice. Now my jitters are gone, and Cameron is no longer on the pedestal I placed him.

  He’s the same Cameron I’ve hung out with all these years. Yes, he’s smart and caring and funny. We banter with each other and get on like a house on fire. But - most importantly - he’s normal.

  There’s no need to fangirl.

  I barely have time to think about these matters, though. One pressing decision must be addressed;

  Bikini or bathing suit?

  I stare at the leopard print bathing suit lying on my bed next to a black bikini.

  The bikini would be sexy, really showing Cameron the woman that I’ve grown into. If there are any illusions that I’m still that high school girl, they’d be shattered in an instant.

  But my stomach is bloated after eating all that Italian food last night. The leopard print is cute, with a low neckline. Not too low to show off too much cleavage, but just enough so I don’t look like a nine-year-old girl.

  The problem with the leopard print suit is I’ve had it for years, the color has faded and I should have thrown it out ages ago.

  Decisions. Decisions.

  I hum to myself, looking between the two outfits, when a knock on my bedroom door makes me jump.

  “I’m getting in the hot tub now,” Cameron’s muffled voice calls through the door. I gulp. “Great, I’ll be right there.”

  And just like that, the writhing snakes are back, squirming around, churning Katia’s lasagna in my stomach.

  I grab the leopard print bathing suit, get changed in a rush, and scoop my hair back into a high ponytail. After a quick touch-up of lip gloss in front of my wall mirror, I take a deep breath and nod at my reflection.

  “It’s show time.”

  I wrap my towel around me, clutching a fistful of it in one hand and my phone in the other as I step outside. There’s nothing but a tuft of dark hair peeking over the edge of the bubbling hot tub, and the corners of my lips tug upward as I approach the hot tub. A gazebo covers the tub, fitted with a string of fairy lights. But it’s not dark enough to turn them on yet.

  A twig snaps underneath my foot, prompting Cameron to swivel around and look at me. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to wince as I stoop down and pluck the stick from my skin.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to sound breezy as I glance at my foot to check for bleeding. Thankfully there isn't any.

  “Why are you hiding?”

>   I look up to meet Cameron’s stare, heat rising to my face. “What?”

  His eyes lower from my face. “Haven’t you had that giraffe towel since like the seventh grade?”

  I feel myself blushing fully now. In my excitement, I grabbed the first towel in my cupboard, not paying attention to which one I picked.

  I shrug. “I like this towel.”

  It’s true. But now I’m starting to think I need to go to the mall and upgrade my wardrobe. I’ve never been a mall girl, always choosing comfort over fashion.

  Cameron knows that, and he rolls his eyes with a shake of the head. “Whatever, are you coming in?”

  “Yes, scoot over.”

  I slide into the hot tub, doing my best to keep my footing. Cameron has it on the most intense setting, and the jets bombard my body like twenty gnomes beating a punching bag. Once under the water though, the sensation is no longer irritating, and the heat washes over me, relaxing my muscles with immediate effect.

  “We should have come out here last night,” I say, resting my head on the edge of the tub and closing my eyes. A low rumbling hum prompts me to blink and look at Cameron. His muscular shoulders are peeping out from the foaming water and he's grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

  “Nice to see you acting more normal.”

  I frown, but he’s right. It’s not until now, with my tension melting away from every inch of my body, that I realize just how uptight I’ve been.

  “What’s got you so stressed out, anyway?” Cameron asks, following my thoughts. I puff air from my cheeks and shut my eyes again. Oddly enough, if I don’t look at him, I feel more courage to be honest. “This dare thing… I was so excited about it, but now I’m just…”

  “You know what?” Cameron begins. I snap my eyes open and see him leaning forward. His hands find mine beneath the water and he gives me a hard look.

  “We’re not in college anymore, backing out of a dare isn’t the end of the world.”

  He squeezes my hands, but I can’t help but frown even deeper. If I backed out of my one chance to break down the friendship barriers with Cameron, it will be the end of the world. Or my world, at least.