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Chapter 2 - A Kissin' Dare

"There's no way in hell I'm going on that trip."

That was what Lina had told herself when Sharon called at six a.m. to invite her to a wedding. Yet somehow, here she was—stuffed into what could barely pass for a dress.

The black sequin thing clung like a napkin, courtesy of Sharon's Christmas gift. Another gentle reminder that Sharon didn't trust her taste in clothes.

"I don't feel comfortable in this," Lina muttered.

Sharon didn't hear her. Her gaze was locked on the blue-eyed waiter handing out drinks.

Following her gaze, Lina nudged her. "Will you stop drooling?"

Sharon sighed. "You really know how to ruin a moment." She gave Lina a once-over. "And stop pulling that dress."

"It won't stay up," Lina hissed. "My boobs are basically falling out," she said with frustration as she struggled with it.

Sharon smacked her hand away. "Lina, look around."

Every woman in the open bamboo bar wore something tiny, shiny, or see-through. The bride-to-be sat in the center, glowing in her sash.

"No one else is fussing," Sharon said, tugging the dress down again. "Your boobs are amazing. I love them, so flaunt them a little." Lina reached her fingers to it, but Sharon smacked them off. Lina glared at her.

"I'd rather be in jeans," she grumbled, grumpily reaching for her mocktail.

"You're not changing till the party's over, Evelina," Sharon warned. Then, softer, "Learn to live a little, okay? Stop acting like a granny."

Lina glared but said nothing.

"Time to spice things up, ladies!" The red-haired emcee with too much energy screamed into the mic. "It's truth or dare!" she squealed and the crowd erupted.

Lina groaned inwardly. People still play that?

She stayed quiet through two rounds, sipping her drink and praying not to be noticed. But luck ran out. The bottle stopped at her.

"What? Me?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, you!" someone laughed.

Sharon grinned. "Go on. Pick one."

Lina's stomach flipped as she drew a folded slip from the bowl. The emcee snatched it.

"Ooh," she said dramatically. "A kissing dare!"

The girls screamed. Before Lina could react, hands were on her, dragging her toward the door.

"Wait—what?! Hold on."

"Relax," Lucy, the maid of honor, whispered. "We'll pick someone cute."

"Someone what?" She tried to breakfree, but it was too late.

They led her to the poolside, where a group of men sat laughing under warm lights.

"That's Tim's cousin and his friends," someone whispered.

Lina barely heard. Her dress was slipping, she could barely catch on, and her pulse was racing too.

"It's decided!" one of the girls announced, voice giddy. "Pete—the tall one in black polo and khaki shorts."

Muffled sounds of agreement echoed around her.

"Pete is good. Perfect even."

"Excuse me?" She looked at them with incredulity.

"It's just a kiss. Or," the red head smirked, "two hours at the beach tomorrow. Braless."

"What kind of— You're insane."

Before she could turn back, someone gave a playful shove. She stumbled forward, heart thudding as every male gaze turned her way.

She glanced back. Sharon was grinning like a devil.

Turning forward again, she found him—Pete.

Dark wavy hair. Bearded jaw. Gray eyes that caught the light like polished steel.

He was watching her. Still. Unblinking.

Lina swallowed. It's just a kiss, she told herself. Just a kiss.

One breath. Then another. She stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the tiles. The scent of whiskey and night air drifted around them. He didn't move—just watched her, eyes steady.

The air seemed to hum between them as she stopped in front of him.

"Nothing fancy," she whispered under her breath.

And then, before courage had the chance to slip away, she leaned in—

and her lips brushed his.

Warm. Steady. Still.

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