Page 38 of All Twerk, No Play

“Any brothers or sisters?” I asked to lighten the mood.

“Only child,” she said. I couldn’t say I was surprised.

“Did you ever want siblings?” I asked, curious how many texts I would have waiting from my sisters. How hard they’d laugh when I told them I got trapped, since they knew how much I hated this piece of shit. I definitely wouldn’t tell them who I was stuck with, that would lead to endless nosy questions.

“That’s two questions,” she said, accompanied by a know-it-all grin.

“That’s a reasonable follow-up question.”

“Your questions should be more strategic,” she made a magnanimous hand wave. “Would you like a do-over?”

“Did you ever have or want siblings?”

“Better question,” she said, uncrossing and re-crossing her ankles. “Not really, as a kid. I didn’t want to compete for my parents’ attention.”

I tilted my head. That’s how she would see a sibling, as competition instead of a playmate?

But something about her answer caught my attention. “Sure, as a kid. But as an adult …”

Her lips pressed together.

“That’s not another question, just waiting patiently for you to finish your answer.”

Her lips pressed into a firm line. “In law school, when Alexander’s brother Nick lived with us, they rolled me into the fold, three peas in a pod.” The pointy toes of her heels tapped against each other. “When he asked me to move here, he said those summers were the happiest he’d been as an adult.”

Her forlorn expression revealed she felt the same, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Damn, it was harder to see her sad. I found myself wishing for her icy glare again.

Wanting to get back on the solid ground of disliking Alex, I impulsively asked, “So why’d you dump him?”

She ran a finger over her mouth in a ‘lips sealed’ gesture. “Truth or dare?”

I knew if I said Truth, she’d ask about my criminal record. She knew I knew. I worried what she would think. Plus I wanted to see what happened if I said … “Dare.”

“I dare you to be silent for one minute straight.”

I silently started the timer on my phone. Our eyes met, her gaze challenging me. I licked my bottom lip, and those intense silver eyes tracked it as her neck flushed.

After about 20 seconds, I let her win our staring contest, sliding her heels off.

“What are you …?”

I recreated her ‘lips sealed’ motion, then started massaging the ball of her foot, pressing my thumb into her arch.

Her teeth scraped over her bottom lip. My hands explored her heel, her sole, her toes … even a ticklish spot and she pulled away as the stopwatch went off. I clicked off the timer and reached for the other foot. “Truth or dare?”

Knowing I’d ask that lingering follow-up question about dumping Alex, her chin lifted defiantly. “Dare.”

“I dare you to sing me a song," I said without a moment's hesitation.

“No.”

“Then I dare you to answer the question about why you dumped Alex.”

“That’s not a dare.”

“Then I dare you to take off your shirt,” I said cheekily.

Her eyes widened. She scowled at her silk blouse. “It’s truth or dare, not strip poker.”

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