Page 6 of Wrapped Up

I take another sip of my drink, larger this time. “Let's play a game to get to know each other better,” I suggest, eager to change the subject. “Truth or dare.”

He raises an eyebrow at me with a smirk. “Alright. I'm in, if you are. Truth.”

Pretending to think for a moment, I tap my chin. “What's your most embarrassing moment?”

The prince laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Easy. Junior prom. I tried to impress my date with a backflip. Ended up flat on my face in front of the entire school.”

I can't help but giggle at the mental image. “Smooth moves, Your Highness.”

“Your turn,” he says, leaning forward. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

His eyes gleam. “First kiss. Spill.”

I groan, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Tommy Wilson, eighth grade. Behind the bleachers. It was... wet.”

He laughs, and I find myself leaning closer, drawn in by his warmth.

“Truth or dare?” I ask, my voice lower than I intended.

“Dare,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

My heart races. I should keep it light, fun. Instead, I hear myself say, “I dare you to tell me your best pickup line.”

His grin turns wicked. Then he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I'd be holding a galaxy in my hand.”

I burst out laughing, equal parts amused and charmed. “That was terrible!”

“Terribly effective,” he counters with a wink. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

I hesitate, caught between caution and curiosity. “Truth,” I say finally.

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “What's the first thing you noticed about me?”

I gulp, suddenly aware of our closeness. His scent surrounds me — a mix of cologne and something uniquely his. I should lie, guard my emotions. But under the influence of alcohol and his proximity, I feel reckless.

“Your eyes,” I confess, barely above a whisper. “They're... intense.”

His gaze drops to my lips, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. My body hums with anticipation, every nerve ending on high alert. I should feel uncomfortable and exposed, but instead, I feel a thrill of power. I'm playing with fire, and for the first time in forever, I don't want to stop.

“Truth or dare?” I ask, trying to steady my voice.

His eyes meet mine, a challenge sparking in their depths. “Dare.”

I lean back, considering him. I could keep it safe and dare him to do something silly. But that's not where this is heading. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I dare you to tell me something you like in a partner. Something... intimate.”

He leans in closer, his voice low and sensual. “I like someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to ask for it.”

I swallow hard, warmth pooling in my belly. I've never been that bold. But tonight, I want to be.

He gazes at me, never breaking eye contact. “Truth or dare?”

I ponder for a moment before whispering, “Truth.”

His lips curl into a slow, mischievous grin. “What's one thing you can't stand in a partner? What's a deal-breaker for you?”

I chew on my bottom lip, considering his question. “I can't tolerate passivity. I need someone who meets me halfway, who puts in equal effort. I won't be the only one trying or putting myself out there.”

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