When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against mine.
“Now roll,” he murmurs.
The dice tumble.
We win.
The table explodes with cheers.
I laugh, half delirious.
“Okay,” I say. “You might be magic.”
“No,” he says softly. “That’s you.”
With our modest but respectable winnings, we duck into a connected restaurant.
The hostess gives us a once-over.
“You two coordinated,” she says.
“Completely unintentional,” I assure her.
Jesse grins. “We’re trendsetters.”
We slide into a booth, still buzzing.
“Still want to play Never Have I Ever?” he asks.
“Obviously.”
The waiter approaches.
I glance at Jesse.
“Never have I ever ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.”
He laughs. “Bold.”
“So?”
He scans the menu. “I haven’t.”
“Then you should.”
“You first.”
We both order something slightly indulgent, laughing like conspirators.
When the waiter leaves, Jesse leans back.
“My turn.”
I nod.
“Never have I ever broken a bone.”
“Neither have I,” I say.
