“Enough witty banter,” Alice interrupts. “Let’s dothis.”
The first few rounds are easy. I learn that Alice had her first orgasm at the age of fifteen and that Christina had a childhood crush on Bon Jovi. I’m dared to eat a teaspoon of cinnamon, and Alice has to lick Christina’sear.
The drinks continue to flow, despite no one skipping a turn yet. Then Christina takes a look at the words on her tile and puts it face down on thetable.
“Nope,” she says. “Not happening. Pour me someshots.”
“What is it?” Alice demands. “You have to tell us what itsays!”
“It says to kiss the person on myleft.”
Alice throws her head back and laughs. “Seriously, Christina? You’re going to waste one of your skips on that? It’s only akiss.”
From the way she’s looking at Christina though, I can tell she’s just trying to urge her on. The whiskey’s getting to my head and I joinin.
“Yeah, Dominguez. I saw some of those tiles when we were stacking them up. There are way worse things in there. Plus, I know you’ve been dying to kissme.”
“More like killyou.”
“Love and hate can be very similar emotions,” Alice chimesin.
Christina shoots her a look and then turns back to me. “Maybe it’syouthat wants to kissme.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Peaches. My lips are ready andwaiting.”
I lean forward, playing it cool and hoping she won’t hear the thumping of my pulse. I spent so long editing photos of her that I’ve got her features memorized, but having them this close to me, warm and soft and flushed from the whiskey, is doing things to me that a bunch of pixels nevercould.
She leans in to meet me and I can feel her breath on my skin, can feel the heat as the air thickens between us and her brown eyes seem to swallow meup.
Then she’s pulling away, slamming down a shot glass in front ofAlice.
“Yeah, nah. Pour me theshots.”
She downs the liquor and we keep playing, but my focus is no longer on the game. As I sip on yet another whiskey and coke, my focus isn’t really on anything. I stare at Christina’s thigh just inches away from my own. The denim of her jeans stretches tight over toned muscle, and I think of gripping her hip in the studio, twisting her body, shaping it into whatever Iwanted.
“Yo, Penn!” Alice’s voice snaps me out of my daze. “Yourturn.”
I pick out a truth tile and swallow down a lump when I read thequestion.
What’s your worstmemory?
“I’m going to need that shot glass.” I cough to clear my throat, which suddenly feelsdry.
“Skipping out on a truth?” Christina questions. “How bad could itbe?”
She grabs the tile before I can stop her and her eyes scan over the question before flicking up to meetmine.
“Deepest, darkest secrets, huh?” she asks in a lowvoice.
Alice is already several drinks ahead of us and doesn’t seem to notice the exchange. She sits perched on the edge of the couch, swaying to the music as she squints at the Jenga tower and strategizes over which tile to picknext.
“Something like that,” Imutter.
Christina raises her eyebrows but doesn’t ask any more questions, just grabs the whiskey bottle and pours me two shots. We continue with thegame.
Twenty minutes, several embarrassing truths, and one girl-on-girl lap dance later, the whiskey bottle is almost empty and what’s left of the tower balances on a single tile, trembling so much we’ve moved our glasses to the floor to keep from knocking it over. Alice has her head cocked sideways and one eye squinted as she works out the best move tomake.
“Mais rápido!” Christina shouts. “It’s going to fall anyways. Just pickone.”
