Page 124 of A Little Tempting

“No, I’m your fairy godmother,” Finley reminds her, then turns to me. “You passed, by the way. Congratulations.”

My brows bunch. “Did I miss something?”

“We have a rule,” Ophelia explains. “Each of us has an…I dunno, a no-fly zone, if you will. We’ve had it since we were little, and everyone’s red tape is different. Mine is no heights because, duh, Finley’s is no frogs?—”

“Because, duh,” Finley repeats with a look like I’m a lunatic if I dare to disagree with her.

“And Dylan’s red card is no kisses during Truth or Dare. And yet, she kissed you.” Finley smirks. “You know what it means, right?”

“It means it isn’t your turn anymore,” Dylan interjects. “Griffin, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he answers.

“What’s it like sharing a room with Everett?”

Laughter erupts as his face scrunches. “Smelly.”

We all laugh even harder, and Griff turns to Everett. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to…” Griff scans the table, grins, and reaches for the Tabasco sauce. With a few rough shakes, he adds a couple of tablespoons to Everett’s beer. “Chug the entire thing.”

“Aw, come on.” Everett groans but lifts the glass to his lips as the red sauce swirls with the pale yellow alcohol. Pinching his nose, he chugs the rest of his drink, then sits it on the table, his mouth twisting with distaste. “Disgusting.”

We take turns, going back and forth until we’re all at least four drinks in—except Finley—and the room starts spinning.

“So, Finley,” Dylan prods, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Finley decides.

“I dare you to ask the band if you can take a moment to make a speech lasting at least one minute while you propose to Griffin on stage.”

Ophelia busts up laughing and shoves her friend’s shoulder. “Shut up! That’s the best dare of the night!”

“Why’d you have to drag me into this?” Griffin groans.

Glowering at Dylan, Finley mutters, “This is payback for the kiss thing, isn’t it?”

“Hey, I could always find a frog.”

“I’m going!” she snaps, scooting out and heading to the edge of the stage. With a crook of her finger, she convinces the lead singer to bend down. We all watch as they have a short conversation, and he nods, offering his hand to help her onto the stage.

I can’t decide if I’m too bombed to think straight or if the image of Finley in a princess dress being yanked onto the stage by a hot rockstar is as funny as it seems, but this? This is fucking priceless.

“Don’t forget to time her speech,” I remind Dylan.

“Oh. Right.” She pulls out her phone, then lifts it into the air, showcasing the timer app as her thumb hovers over the start button.

Tapping the end of the microphone, Finley confirms it’s on and clears her throat. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. First of all, everyone looks amazing. If I were a judge of the costume contest, I’d definitely have a hard time picking a favorite, but, uh, I wanted to come up here today to talk about love, you know? Love is…” She stares at Dylan and smirks. “Love is an incredible thing, and I could not be happier for my best friend and her new fiance. Who knew a surprise pregnancy could end with such…”—she sniffs and dabs the corner of her eye—“such a beautiful proposal. Dani? Get up here, girl! You, too, Reeves!”

Jaw on the floor, Dylan grits out, “That’s it. We’re buying a frog.”

“Aw, come on, babe.” I grab her stomach and rub my hand against it. “It’s for the baby.”

“Oh, shut up.”

She smacks my shoulder as the crowd begins chanting, “Da-ni! Re-eves! Da-ni! Re-eves!”

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