Truth or Dare: A Sweet Romantic Comedy Collection Page 8

  Shortly after that, Jonah left Colorado and came home to New York, totally heartbroken. The experience sort of helped us get closer though. I know a thing or two about public humiliation, thanks to prom. But honestly, I want more than friendship.

  I turn to look at Jonah’s side profile. He's watching a movie. His thick brows furrow and I want to trace a line down his forehead, over his defined nose, and stop on his juicy lips. But I restrain myself and hold still. I can still see traces of hurt between his brows ––a new worry line with Tessa’s name on it.

  I make a silent promise to myself to bring Jonah back fully healed. In no time, he’ll be saying “Tessa who?” and someday soon we’ll sing a duet at our engagement party.

  Jonah

  I don’t know what game Michelle is playing, but I know she’s playing us. Her friends, that is. First of all, I don’t believe for a second that this Truth or Dare challenge is all part of her thesis. I can’t imagine her handing in work for her Masters with an outline of a juvenile game she played with her friends to prove whatever hypothesis she claims she's gunning for. And what hypothesis is it? People fall in love under the right conditions is my best guess. I also find it highly suspect that the first two couples to play the game are now in a serious relationship––heartbreak is on the horizon. I have personally had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. So I'll have to be on my guard.

  The thought makes me think of junior high when we all had to grow sunflowers.

  If the conditions are right, the seed will eventually grow and bloom into a big yellow flower. Everyone succeeded, except me. Just as mine started to bloom, it was devoured by slugs overnight, leaving nothing but a chewed-up stalk in the morning.

  Now my heart feels like that stalk.

  But I shake my head, in a vain hope that the motion will shatter my thoughts. The last person I want on my mind right now is my ex.

  I narrow my eyes at the small TV screen on the headrest in front of me and pretend to watch the movie. But my efforts are fruitless with Michelle fidgeting in her seat every three seconds.

  I finally look at her again. She’s curled up with her cheek pressed against the window and her face scrunched up. Her back is twisted, and she's pulled her knees up to her chest. She looks seriously uncomfortable.

  Michelle is a zany girl. She can’t hold down a strong drink, always takes note of where the restrooms are, and thinks that talking about Aristotle makes a fun pastime. That’s probably why her best friend is Debbie, the philosophy graduate.

  But as much as I think this dare agenda is suspicious, I can’t say no to a trip to Hawaii.

  Does a tiny part of me suspect this is the beginning of a horror movie, and we’ll be tasked with solving a murder... or somehow become part of one? Maybe.

  Have I watched too many zombie apocalyptic shows? Probably.

  Michelle shivers under the blast of A.C. and I unfold her blanket to drape it over her. Seconds pass by and she begins to snore softly. A puff of air lifts the hair covering her face and it settles again as she inhales.

  How she can sleep on a plane is beyond my comprehension.

  The air pressure is giving me a headache. A couple of kids in the row behind me keep kicking my seat. And there are so many of us crammed into such a tight space, it's like we're sardines in a tin can.

  But on the plus side, I’ve got just shy of eleven hours to kill and a whole list of movies to binge on.

  Halfway through the flight, Michelle starts moaning in her sleep. She’s now got her neck stuck out in a weird angle and looks so uncomfortable; I can’t leave her that way. I lift the armrest between us and place a pillow on my lap. Then I carefully guide Michelle’s upper body, cradling the back of her head to rest over my legs. She snuggles into the pillow and stretches out like a cat with a noise that sounds like a meow. With Michelle's body splayed across me and no armrest, I’ve got nowhere to put my left hand. So I tentatively rest it on her shoulder.

  Michelle moans in her sleep and a smile crosses her face as she wriggles against my legs. I can’t help but smile too. Happy that she’s now comfortable, I return my attention to the movie and absent-mindedly stroke her hair for the rest of the ride.

  This is what I wanted with Tessa. To snuggle up close, stroking her hair, feeling the stress fade away from my body. But things with Tessa were never simple and easy. Being in a relationship is hard. It makes life complicated.

  That's why this dare is easy. There's no way I can fall for Michelle. I’m not sure I’m even capable of feeling love for anyone again.

  Michelle

  The cab rolls up next to the resort and I bite against a grin, looking at all the palm trees swaying in the breeze.

  Hello, vacation.

  I’ve never been to Hawaii before. But I expect lush sand, coconuts, flowers, and lots of happy people milling around. I mean, can you imagine grumpy people walking around Hawaii? It’s Hawaii for crying out loud! If you can’t find happiness on a tropical island, then there’s something seriously wrong with the world.

  The cab door opens, and I step out behind Jonah. The first thing to take me by surprise is the heat. A sizzling aura surrounds Jonah’s body like he’s an optical illusion. And the blazing sunshine is so powerful, I feel like I’ve stepped into a furnace. I won’t be surprised if the hairs on my arms are singed by the time we reach our room.

  But once inside the hotel, I’m bathed in crisp cool air, and I thank my lucky stars this place is an American state. This is why we didn’t go to Peru. We’ve got the tropical island but with all of the American essentials, like air conditioners and hamburgers.

  The real reason we’re not in Peru is that I don’t have any friends there. I only got tickets to this resort because my college friend, Malcolm, landed a job as a relationship counselor at the couples’ retreat.

  I talk to the man at the reception desk and name drop. Malcolm came through––he secured us a nice suite with an ocean view. A tall Hawaiian man takes us along the pristine halls and as we walk, I lose myself in sweet daydreams. I can already see Jonah and I laughing at the side of the pool, going on moonlit walks along the beach, singing karaoke... Maybe dreams do come true?

  The beautiful Hawaiian man flashes me a smile and places a lei of white and yellow flowers over my head. “Thank you,” I say, blushing. He turns and offers one to Jonah who stands stiff as a board as a pink and white one goes over his head.

  “You are here for the couples’ retreat, yes?” he asks. We both nod. The Hawaiian grins. “Here are your itineraries. Malcolm is looking forward to seeing you, Mr. White, and Ms. Reynolds. Enjoy your stay.”

  The door closes and we’re left alone for the first time in our room. Or should I say palace? The patio doors open out to a balcony, a hot tub sits in the center of the room and there's a massive four-poster bed calling to me. Jonah seems to follow my line of thought, and we both approach.

  “Looks like we’re sharing the bed. Do you wanna be the big spoon or little spoon?” Jonah winks at me as he swaggers to the Super King bed. I halt, opening and closing my mouth silently, winded by the idea of spooning with Jonah. It's the way he suggested it so casually like there’s nothing scandalous about it. Jonah appears undeterred by my lack of a reply. He kicks his shoes off and jumps onto the bed with a happy sigh. “I’m just gonna lay here and die happy,” he says, his voice muffled into the pillow.

  “You can’t sleep now, we need to get ready,” I say, snapping out of my daze. I glance at the itinerary in my hand and walk to the bed. “Wow, there’s a lot on here.”

  Jonah sits up and takes the paper out of my hand. “Sandcastle making, meditation... Whatever happened to swimming with the dolphins?” He yawns, dragging a hand through his hair. My hand twitches as if by reflex, as I struggle to resist the urge to run my fingers through his hair too.

  “They stopped doing that ages ago. Don’t you remember all those animal rights protests last year?” My words come out dry. I swallow and look around the room. A bottle
of water is sitting on the table next to a minibar. I make a beeline for it, licking my lips.

  “Sorry, you must have mistaken me for a guy who reads the news,” Jonah quips back as I take a greedy gulp of water.

  I roll my eyes and return to the bed to take the list back. “Look, there’s a couples’ massage after lunch.” I look up to find Jonah stretching with another yawn. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin, I think he is tired.

  “Did you not get any sleep on the plane?”

  I look up at the absence of a reply and notice Jonah laying with his back to me. The steady rise and fall of his shoulder along with a muffled snore answers my question.

  Did he stay awake all night? I can sleep anywhere. But that’s not always a good thing. When I woke up in his lap and noticed a little patch of drool on the pillow, I could have died a thousand deaths. But Jonah didn’t seem to notice. At least, if he did, he pretended not to.

  Even though I slept through the entire flight, I lingered in a weird state between REM sleep and consciousness. I could feel Jonah’s fingers strumming my arm, then twisting through my hair, carefully loosening the knots. I wanted to stay like that forever.

  Part of me is tempted to creep over and cuddle up to Jonah on the bed. But we’re not there yet in our relationship. He might have joked about it, but that’s exactly what it was; a joke––right? I mean, it’s one thing to let me sleep on him in the plane in front of hundreds of people but waking up to find me spooning him might freak him out a little.

  And the last thing I wanna do is scare him off. No, I’ve gotta play this one cool so he’s the one coming to me.

  With that in mind, I pick out my wash bag and enter the bathroom. If I want Jonah to fall in love with me, I gotta look my best.

  “Wow,” Jonah says, looking up at me as I re-enter the room. It’s taken almost two hours of intensive work, but his reaction is worth it.

  His eyes widen and line me up and down, taking in my appearance with a broad smile on his face. I grin back. I've been saving this dress for a special occasion, and making a first impression as Jonah’s fake girlfriend is as good a time as any.

  The dress is long and floaty, with a high split over the left thigh. A soft belt cinches my waist, accentuating the subtle curves of my slim body. I don’t have the womanly shape of Holly, or the sexy Italian look that Debbie and Katia have got going on. Usually, I’m the cute American girl-next-door type. But in this dress, with my dark hair flowing to my waist, I look nothing like a girl.

  And the look in Jonah’s eyes tells me I’m 100% woman.

  “Something wrong?” I ask innocently. I wear a puzzled look and pretend I don't know that Jonah’s trying to pick up his jaw from the marble floor. “No,” he blurts, his face reddening. “You just look... outrageously sexy.”

  I hold a laugh inside and smile at him. “Ready to be my boyfriend?”

  Jonah smirks at me, his eyes glinting. “I better go take a cold shower first.”

  Jonah

  Michelle is teasing me, and I kinda like it. I clench my teeth at the cold spray of water hitting my back as I stand with my hands pressed up against the tiles. We’ve been in Hawaii for less than three hours and I’m already looking at Michelle in another light.

  But it’s entirely her fault. I mean, that dress. It’s the type of dress you see on supermodels, not normal people. Michelle looks like Demi Moore on the red carpet. If I didn't have ice-cold water shooting daggers into my skin right now, I’d conclude that I must be dreaming.

  I shake my head. Michelle is just making an effort because of the retreat. We're going to lunch soon, and if we want to pose as a couple, we gotta look the part.

  Michelle bangs on the bathroom door. “Jonah. We need to leave in ten minutes!”

  I inhale sharply and sigh. Then I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist.

  “Don’t worry,” I say as I throw the door open. Michelle takes several steps back and her gaze floats down my body. Her reaction makes me grin. I swagger over to my open bag, keeping the towel in place. “I’ll be ready.”

  Michelle falls silent and fumbles with her purse as I pick out my clothes. Her flushed cheeks fill me with adrenaline. I like seeing her like this. All cute and sexy and flustered. I clear my throat to get her attention.

  “A little privacy?” I say, lifting a brow. I figure if I drop my towel without giving her a heads up, she might pass out. Then we’d definitely be late for lunch. Michelle spins around and keeps her back to me and I get dressed. A little squeak prompts me to look up again, and for a brief moment, I catch the reflection of Michelle’s wide eyes on the glossy walls.

  “Are you checking me out?” I ask, humored. Michelle gives a fake laugh and shakes her head so violently, her hair swishes from side to side.

  “Okay, you can relax now, I’m ready,” I announce, fully dressed again. Michelle turns and holds her right arm like an awkward teenager, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Good, I’m hungry, aren’t you?” she asks. I approach and her face pales. I look her up and down again, hold out my arm for her to take, and hum to myself.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m starving.”

  We walk into the dining hall, playing the part of a couple so easily, I’m almost convinced we’re the real deal. I rest my hand on the small of Michelle’s back and her silky soft dress almost drives my senses crazy. I want to stroke her all night.

  We round a corner and spring apart in shock. There's a row of familiar faces at the large dining table. Debbie and Mark wave at us, while Holly and Cameron beam like kids that were caught doing something naughty.

  “What are you doing here?” Michelle exclaims as we approach the table. Debbie smiles sheepishly.

  “You’re not the only one who’s got Malcolm on speed dial. Besides, he wanted to fill up the retreat and your call inspired him to talk to me. So, thanks!”

  “Besides,” Holly adds, flicking her hair back. “Somebody needs to keep an eye on you two, and make sure you’re actually going through with the dare.”

  Michelle raises her brows with a wry smile. “Right, so this is all in the name of science.”

  I take my seat next to Mark, who claps me on the shoulder. “Have you two…?” he begins to murmur but I give him a hard look. “No.”

  I’m not one to kiss and tell, but even if I am, this is not the time nor place to do it. Thankfully, Mark gets the hint and drops it. And before he can ask any more questions, the last of the vacant seats are filled by a group of couples.

  Before we can make formal introductions though, a short man appears at the head of the table.

  “Welcome, welcome to the couples’ retreat. My name is Malcolm,” I glance at Michelle, who nods at me. She smiles and waves at the short man and he winks back. So, this is Malcolm from college? He’s the guy I have to thank for being here.

  “I'm in charge of making this experience enlightening for you all. Some of you will reconnect, some will stir up burning passions of desire––” Malcolm continues his well-rehearsed opening speech, while Mark snorts and leans in.

  “What Debbie and I have got going on is explosive as it is,” he mutters into my ear. I force a smile.

  “––Now please, enjoy the food. Get to know each other and ask questions. This is your time together, make every second count. After lunch, we will go to the beach to meet Wallace, your Tai Chi instructor...” Malcolm begins to list off the rest of the activities for the day.

  I’m half disappointed that we can’t just go and chill out on the beach, but at least some of our friends are here. Doing yoga with a straight face will be hard with Mark and Cameron around though.

  After several hours of activities, we trudge to the spa.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” I think aloud. I may have gotten too competitive during couples’ volleyball and thrown my back out. I twist and turn against the dull ache in my spine.

  “Tell me about it,” Holly moans, rubbi
ng her neck. We reach the main lobby, and each couple is directed to separate rooms. I follow Michelle into ours and look around.

  “Are we in the right place?” Michelle asks, looking puzzled.

  I was expecting to see two massage beds, but this room has soft cushions on the floor, lit candles, and a lamp diffusing essential oils in the corner. But before I can answer, the door opens, and a young woman enters the room. She shifts her hazel eyes from Michelle to me and smiles serenely, apparently unperturbed by the look of confusion on our faces.

  “Please, take a seat,” she says softly. I’m guessing by seat she means cushion. Michelle and I each grab one and plop down, sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing each other. I shift to stop a sharp feather poking me in the butt.

  “I’m sorry, I thought this was a couples’ massage?” Michelle says hesitantly as the woman sits with us. She nods slowly and waves sage smoke in our direction. The strong scent stings the back of my nose with every inhale.

  “You are correct. You are going to learn the art of couples’ massage... on each other.”

  The revelation does something funny to my stomach. My eyes flit down to meet Michelle’s surprised stare. “Did you know about this?” I whisper. She shakes her head, eyes wide and glassy.

  “Physical intimacy is a beautiful and sacred experience between couples. I will show you how a massage can strengthen your bond and keep you close,” the woman continues. I glance down at her name tag. Jameela.