Truth or Beard

I tried not to gag.

My attention moved to Jessica. I don’t know why I did it. Some part of me, likely the asshole part that enjoys feeling like shit, wanted to see her reaction—or non-reaction.

But to my surprise, she wasn’t gazing at Beau. She was looking at Tina, and she was looking at Tina like she wanted to bury her alive. The intensity of her glare, the ice behind it, caught me off guard. Suddenly, kissing Tina didn’t seem quite so revolting.

“All right,” I drawled.

Jessica’s eyes flickered to mine. Before she was able to hide it, I saw misery and shock. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, I also saw jealousy. Encouraged by the possibility that Jess might care a little about who I was kissing, I stood and picked my way through the crowd, then knelt in front of Tina.

I had a decision to make.

I could give her a quick peck and move the game forward.

Or, I could kiss Tina like I wanted to kiss Jess. I could use her. I could exploit the situation and potentially push Jess out of her comfort zone, hopefully provoking some response. Something to give me a reason to hope.

Decision made, I grabbed Tina by the neck, and I kissed the hell out of her.

Pretending Tina Patterson was Jessica James was like pretending tofu was steak. Despite the disparity in quality, texture, and taste, I soldiered on. I tapped into a hell of a lot of pent-up sexual frustration and had to restrain her hands when I felt them reach for my dick.

The crowd had made noises at first, egging me on. But then they grew quiet, and I heard a few whispered, Damn, that boy can kiss and I’m next and Remind me to use my next turn on Duane.

As soon as I finished, I lifted my eyes to Jess, and what I saw made my chest hurt. But this time, it was a good hurt.

Her glare was affixed to mine, her face was bright red. Her usual charming smirk was replaced with a deep frown. Beyond all that, she was giving me a hot look.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood, holding her gaze, and leaving Tina dazed on the blanket.

“It’s your turn, Duane,” Cletus’s voice broke the silence. He sounded cheerful…for Cletus. “Pick anyone you want, anyone at all.”

I nodded, my eyes never leaving Jessica’s, and gritted my teeth in preparation for what I was going to do next, my mind homing in on my target. It would require courage, the kind that risks public rejection.

“Jessica.” Her name on my lips sounded too loud.

I had an odd thought just then, that I should only ever whisper her name, and that she should always be close enough to hear it.

“Truth or dare?” I whispered.

Her gaze narrowed. Even beneath the thick coat she wore, I could see her chest rise and fall with her breath. To drive my point home, I allowed my eyes to flicker meaningfully to Beau. I hoped she’d interpret the movement as an implied threat to expose her feelings for him.

For the record, I would never do that. I would have to be a complete idiot to do that. If Beau had any idea, he’d be a jackass to let her go. Also, it would be a betrayal. I didn’t want to betray Jessica. I wanted to cherish her.

“Dare,” she said, like she was daring me and not the other way around.

I kept my relief from showing but did allow myself a smirk. “Okay. Dare it is.”

Again I picked my way through the crowd, and again I knelt down on the blanket; this time I was kneeling next to Jess, and she was adorably ruffled, unable to hide her anger.

“I dare you to come with me and go skinny-dipping in Bandit Lake for the next hour.”

Her brown eyes widened, rimmed with shock, and the crowd erupted in opinions. I heard someone say, I should have thought of that one, that’s a good one.

“Well?” I pushed, burying my enthusiasm under an expression of boredom. “What’s it going to be?”

Finally she sputtered, “An hour? That lake is near freezing; we’ll get hypothermia.”

“Okay, thirty minutes then.”

“Thirty minutes?”

“Fifteen. Final offer. Or else you have to choose truth.”

A wrinkle formed above her nose, and her eyes bounced between mine. Then, abruptly, she lifted her chin and said with venom, “Fine. I accept.”

She stood, unzipped her jacket, tossed it to Cletus, then jogged out of the circle of the bonfire’s light. I was too surprised to move at first, but then Beau punched me in the shoulder.

“What are you waiting for, dumbass? Go get her.”

I stared at my brother and he stared back, giving me an excited, encouraging smile. And I saw what I’d been blind to earlier. Beau wasn’t interested in Jessica, not because she wasn't beautiful or amazing. She was. She was gorgeous. She was smart and clever. She was breathtaking. She was also too good for either of us.

Beau wasn't interested in Jess because he knew how I felt. Of course he did. We were twins. He must’ve always known.

We exchanged a brotherly grin, and he punched me again. “Go on, get.”

I nodded once then stood, toeing my boots off and pulling both my sweater and shirt over my head. I left everything but my pants in a pile on the ground, grabbed a still-folded blanket, then sprinted into the woods after Jessica James.

I was always running after her, but this time I wasn't going to let her get away.

CHAPTER 4

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

? Lao Tzu

~ Jessica ~

I’ve never been a liar. I’m not that creative and I lack the energy required. I’m not even very good at lying to myself. That’s probably why I currently felt like my brain was being torn in two.

I didn’t like that I wanted Duane Winston, but there it was. He’d done something to me, awoke some slumbering feminine feral creature, and now I was pathetic with thinking about him. And it wasn’t just wanting his kiss, his touch, his body, and maybe even a bit of his sassy back talk. I was thinking about him and our interactions growing up and all the countless hours we’d spent in each other’s company not getting along.

To make matters even more muddled, whatever he’d done to me backstage at the community center had apparently miraculously broken the Beau-spell—at least for the night. I wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing. On one hand, I’d always known my feelings for Beau were based on an unhealthy and unrealistic infatuation.

On the other hand, at least Beau had been nice to me. No sassy back talk from Beau Winston—only friendly smiles, honesty, and kindness—which was why I’d hero-worshipped him for so long.

But now…almost nothing. When Beau had found me in the dark and told me who he was, the first thing I felt was disappointment he wasn’t Duane. No music only I could hear. No reducing me to a blubbering, slurring Swahili speaker. Just disappointment.

How that was even possible after twelve years of obsessive behavior made me question my mental health. Likely, I should have been questioning it long before now.

I slowed my jog to a walk, guessing that the edge of the lake was nearby and cursing myself for not bringing a flashlight. The short run was good, but not enough. It had expelled merely a modicum of the restless energy coursing through my system, making me feel fried, dried, and crispy.

The problem was my brain was tearing in two because my feelings for Duane were not consensual.

Did I want to feel like a jealous, raging, seething she-witch when Duane had kissed my sexy bee cousin, who also just happened to be his ex-girlfriend, and a smokin’ hot stripper?

No. No, I did not. I didn’t want to feel this way. I wanted to feel nothing. But I didn’t feel nothing. I felt like he’d reached inside my chest, closed his fist around my heart, and was slowly squeezing it. I also felt like plucking the wings off Tina’s costume.

He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her just like he’d kissed me. Obviously Duane made a habit of kissing the hell out of women, all women. That’s probably why he was such a good kisser. Lots and lots of practice.

This was the thought circling around and around my brain. The image of them, of his mouth moving against hers, was branded in my vision, making my insides cold, and eclipsing my ability to reason.

My first instinct had been to march over to them and pull them apart by the nose. I’d seen my mother do this once to my cousins when they were fighting. She’d put her index finger in one nostril of each of their noses and tugged them apart. They’d never fought at our house again. All she had to do was wiggle her index fingers in the air. Tina would have known what it meant.

I slowed my pace further, not sure if the sensation beneath my feet was cold damp, or just cold. Three steps later I realized it was cold damp. I’d reached the edge of the lake. I turned, my hands out, and walked a few steps back to the last tree I’d passed and leaned against it, waiting for Duane to show up.

I heard his footfalls, not too far off now. His approach made my insides tense in a delicious and disquieting way. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut, giving myself a mental talking to. Despite the fact it was near forty degrees, I was not cold. In fact, my skin and my lungs and my belly felt like they were on fire. I guess anger, intense aggravation, and frenetic lust will do that to a person.

I needed time, I needed distance.

We’d just kissed less than five hours ago. I was being stupid. Feeling territorial about Duane Winston made no sense. I wasn’t in Green Valley for the long haul, I was here to pay off my student loans, gain teaching experience, and then move on and out and see the world.