“Okay, okay,” Riley laughs, slamming her empty bowl down on the coffee table. She clutches her head, squinting through the pain of her brain freeze. “Truth or dare, jackass?”
Tears stream down my face from laughing so hard at her display. After bringing her in and showing her around my little place, we made our way to the gray leather couch with two half gallons of frozen custard and a bottle of whiskey. One way or another, we got around to playing truth or dare. I promptly dared her to swallow the entire big, chocolatey scoop she had balancing on her spoon, that she promptly shoveled down her throat like a boss.
“I can’t believe you actually did that,” I cackle.
“Truth or dare?” she laughs furiously, louder now. “It better be fucking good after that. I’m pretty sure that was abuse.”
“I’m not even sorry,” I say as I wipe the tears from my eyes. I press my hand against my chest, as if that will force air back into my lungs. “Truth.”
“Oh, typical,” she jokes, and I’m laughing again. “Alright. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done? Spare no details, I want to be flabbergasted.”
I shake my head, trying to think of something to tell her. This is where she finds out just how boring I am. “I ate a whole bag of marshmallows once.”
“Linc,” she hisses, unimpressed.
“What?” I ask, beaming at her. “I don’t have any fun crazy shit. The craziest thing I’ve ever done is go to prison. I don’t want to be a wet blanket.”
Trepidation washes over her, and my amusement fizzles out like a lit match in a puddle. “I… I’m not sure why I told you that,” I cough. Riley sits quietly, waiting for an explanation, and as much as I want to come up with a brilliant, sexy backstory, I can’t lie to her. I sigh. “Promise not to judge me?”
“Did you kill somebody or something?” she says through a forced laugh. When I don’t immediately respond, she pushes away from me on the couch. “You… Did you kill somebody?”