The air goes tight and thin.
“That’s not a small dare,” I protest
Jake shrugs. “It’s just an answer. Won’t hurt you.”
There’s no right answer. No lie I can tell, no way to duck it. So I decide to just…tell the truth.
“Wyatt,” I say.
It could be any of them, truthfully, but Wyatt was my lifeline and my comfort for months. Since we’ve gotten out of the club, the rules have all been turned on their heads and I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose between them. But I miss Wyatt’s touch, and his smell, and his closeness. It’s Wyatt I would choose right now.
The silence that follows feels very loaded.
Wyatt doesn’t say anything. He raises his eyebrows but keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him. Ryder blinks. I take a deep inhale to loosen the tension in my lungs and raise my chin.
“Okay.” Jake gives an approving nod. “That’s an honest answer.”
“Your spin now, Finch,” says Damian.
My hands aren’t entirely steady as I lean forward and flick the bottle.
It whirls, humming, then slows, and comes to a stop pointing straight at Damian.
He grins, teeth flashing. “Excellent.”
My eyes barely land on him, the same way they skate over Jake. All skin and muscle, and remembered touch and nothing but trouble. But heat punches through me. The Lima story flashes through my mind—Damian’s hand in Jake’s shirt, Jake sprawled on a bar, their mouths crashing together. The mental image I can’t get out of my mind.
My heart hammers. “Okay,” I hear myself say. “Damian, I dare you to kiss Jake.”
Jake lets out a short, surprised snort.
“Oh, shit,” says Ryder.
“Wow,” says Damian. “Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and looks at Jake with a crooked grin. “It doesn’t help that we’re basically both naked.”
Jake winks at him. “C’mon, Voss. Don’t be a chicken.” He sets his palms back on the bed and leans back, knees spreading open with zero self-consciousness like he’s waiting for Damian to come to him, the heavy weight of his cock falling against his inner thigh in a way I can’t look away from this time.
“Fuck,” mutters Damian, and stands up, closing the gap between the beds.
“C’mon then,” Jake says in a low, teasing voice. “Let’s give Lima a sequel.”
He’s testing him, making it more difficult by pretending to be too comfortable with it, but Damian smirks, shakes his head, and then meets him where he’s at, bracing one hand on the mattress beside Jake’s hip, the other curling lightly around the side of his neck.
Jesus.The heat that shoots through my center at the sight of them steals my breath.
For a second they just look at each other, each daring the other to look away in discomfort, and then Damian leans in.
It’s not a quick joke of a kiss. It’s tender. Their mouths meet and linger, lips parting.
The warmth inside of me is dizzying. Damian’s broad back, Jake’s bare chest, the way Jake’s lips part just a little under Damian’s.
After a few seconds Damian pulls back, giving Jake a smug little pat on the cheek. “Still got it,” he says.
Jake blows out a breathy laugh, color high in his cheeks. “Yeah,” he says. “You do.” He glances at me, eyes darker now. “Hope that met the assignment.”
“Uh-huh,” I manage, my voice not entirely steady.
Damian looks pleased with himself as he settles back onto his bed and takes a sip of his ginger ale, before leaning forward to spin the bottle.
