“Truth or dare,” he bites out. “Truth,” I reply, not sure I can handle another dare or where it might take us. His brows furrow and his eyes narrow on mine. “What are you thinking right now?” “That I like sitting here with your eyes on me.” “Fuck,” he groans, running a wet hand over his face and through his dark hair before tossing his head back and polishing off the dregs of the bourbon.
