Wyatt passed me the bottle. “Poor Olive. So easily shocked.”
“Piss off.”
He rolled over, bracing his head on his crossed arms. “Make me.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “You definitely bring out the kindergartner in me.”
“Then let’s play a game,” he suggested. “Truth or dare.”
The evening was pleasantly fuzzy, the stars burning holes in the blanket of the night. I could imagine at least ten dares I could give Wyatt, all in varying degrees of humiliation. “Deal,” I said, passing him the bottle again. “Truth.”
“What was your first impression of me?” Wyatt said.
“I thought you were an arrogant asshole. That was my second impression, too.” I leaned back on my elbows. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he said. I passed him the bottle again.
“Craziest thing you’ve ever done while you were drunk?” I asked.
Wyatt was silent. Either he had passed out or he was going to forfeit. But just as I was about to tell him he had to spend the night sleeping next to George, the mummy, in the magazine, he said, “I brought a new car into Eton—which is forbidden—and crashed it into the burning bush.”
“Thewhat?”
“It’s a lamppost. I convinced the head man it had been done by a bloke I hated. He got sacked and I never got caught.” His teeth gleamed white in the darkness. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Last time you looked at porn online?” he said.
“Never.”
Wyatt sat up. “My God, Olive. You’re missing out.”
“Maybeyou’rethe one missing out, if you need to get off via computer. Truth or dare?”
He laughed. “Truth.”
“How many relationships have you ended?” I asked.
“All of them. Because then I can’t be left behind.”
He seemed to realize, at the same time I did, that he had not meant to say the second part out loud. He ducked his head, running his thumbnail through a groove in the wooden floor, bright spots of color on his cheeks. “Truth or dare,” he said.
“Truth.”
“What’s your deepest, darkest secret?”
That I can’t stop looking at you.
Even when I didn’t want to. Even when he was being a dick. Even when I was resolutely trying to ignore him—I was always aware of where Wyatt was, in proximity to me, in the desert, in the Dig House, in my thoughts.
The truth stung at my lips. “I changed my mind,” I said. “Dare.”
“You don’t get to renege.”
“Sure I do. American rules.”
“That’s BS.”
