Page 126 of Things I Wish I Said
I offer her a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m fucking great.”
Cameron hovers nearby, his gaze shifting to where her hand meets my skin, and my stomach tightens in knots.
“I changed my mind,” I say, taking a step back. “I need a fucking beer.”
An hour later, I’m three beers deep but pacing myself. All things considered, I’m proud of my restraint.
A handful of people have left already, calling it an early night. Unfortunately for me, Rachel and her best friend Beth Anne are still present, so when Ryan finishes the rest of his beer and tosses it in a nearby trash can, then announces to no one in particular that it’s time to play a little truth or dare, I want to kill him.
I shoot him a scathing look, one that warns him not to go to sleep tonight, but he simply shrugs, and I wonder if maybe I underestimated him. Maybe he invited them, and this is some kind of ploy on his part to get us back together—to bury the hatchet.
Yeah, fucking right.
The only goal he’s accomplishing tonight is pissing me off.
I take a step back, a beer bottle dangling from my fingers. “Count me out.”
“I’ll play.” Sinclair steps forward, and I jerk my gaze over to find her beaming up at Cameron.
“Wanna play now?” Trent mutters under his breath, and I flip him the bird. With a laugh, he starts to help Ryan drag chairs by the firepit so we can sit.
I hang back, both because I don’t want to play and because I’m waiting like a fucking schmuck to see if Ryleigh will notice.
She does.
“You don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. It’s warm and soft and sends a shiver down my spine.
“I’ll play,” I say in a husky tone, as my gaze dips to her mouth.
She swallows, and I stare, mesmerized, before she tugs my arm, and we head for the chairs. I quickly wedge myself between her and Ryan, more than a little smug when Cameron is forced to take a seat opposite us.
Ryan kicks us off with a rather benign dare from Trent to shotgun a beer, followed by Laura, a pretty chill chick from our class, choosing truth and having to admit how many sexual partners she’s had.
The entire time, I stare straight at the fire, ignoring the weight of Rachel’s gaze on the side of my face.
“Cameron, truth or dare?” Laura asks.
Cameron scoffs like there’s no choice to make. “Dare.”
“Take a dip in the lake . . . wearing only one piece of clothing.”
“Done.” Cameron rises from his chair. His shirt comes off first, followed by his shorts, revealing a pair of black boxer briefseveryone expects he’ll leave on. So, when he tucks his fingers in the waistband of his underwear and drops them, there’s a collective gasp from the girls and a cacophony of displeasure from the guys. The only article of clothing that remains are his socks as he balls up his clothing and tosses them at Ryleigh with a wink.
I glare at him so hard it’s a miracle his face doesn’t ignite, but he’s too busy grinning at Ryleigh to notice. “Hold on to these for me, will ya, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart?
The muscle in my jaw clenches. “Really? You left your fucking socks on, asshole?”
“What?” Cameron shrugs, unashamed. “I don’t like my feet.”
I grind my teeth, restraining myself as I watch the smile on Sinclair’s face grow in the seconds before Cameron turns and makes a beeline for the lake.
When he returns a few minutes later, I snatch his pile of clothes from Ryleigh and toss them at him. “Put some fucking clothes on,” I snap while he laughs.
“Yes, Dad.”
I roll my eyes, catching Ryleigh’s gaze by chance. She arches her brow, which I return with a dubious look of my own.
