Truth or Dare

by A. J. Bennett

  “This is true,” Marcus said ruefully.

  Luna stopped short when they reached the picnic area. “What about you guys, want to go out tonight?”

  Grayson and Derrick exchanged a glance. The way couples do, speaking without words. It really irked Luna, because that was her and Grayson’s thing. The twin thing.

  Grace shrugged and Derrick raised an eyebrow.

  “Sure,” Grayson said. Luna knew she’d much rather stay home, curled up and watching a movie, but that’s what sisters were for, right?

  “I’ll be the designated driver. What about you, Marcus?” Derrick asked.

  “I guess so. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

  Luna asked the other guys on Derrick’s team if they wanted to join them. Half agreed and the other half had places to be. It didn’t escape Luna that it was the single guys that agreed, and the married or involved guys that were stuck home. She wouldn’t even bother to ask her brother. He was on their Special Forces team, too, but he rarely went out anymore. He seemed to enjoy the sedate family life.

  How incredibly boring.

  Luna stuffed her face with hotdogs, hamburgers, and potato salad. She’d have to spend extra time on the treadmill, but it was well worth it.

  Food and sex made the world go round.

  ***

  Turning side to side, Luna took in her reflection in the mirror. Her skirt was black, short, and tight enough that it took a few moments for her to wriggle into it. She’d paired it with an off the shoulder white top. After pulling her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair up and down several times, she decided to leave it down. Men loved long hair. There were times she’d debated taking clippers to her head and going Sinéad O’Connor out of curiosity, but vanity always won over.

  With one last glance in the mirror, she smiled; she looked hot and she knew it. Conceited? Sure. But she also knew genetics had been good to her. Just because she was pretty on the outside didn’t mean she wasn’t ugly on the inside.

  She made her way to the kitchen, padding across the worn carpet of her crappy studio apartment. She needed a better job, working at the mall wasn’t exactly bringing in the big bucks. She could go back to school, but she’d have to get heaps of student loans. Just what she needed, more debt.

  A quick glance at the clock told her she had a few moments to spare.

  Since Derrick was driving, she took advantage and poured herself a shot of whiskey. Might as well get the party started early. She swirled the amber liquid in the glass before throwing her head back, not even wincing when it went down. The liquid felt warm and smooth, just the way she liked it.

  Fuck, she was bored. Even the thought of going out dancing her ass off, getting drunk, and grabbing some hot ass guy to screw didn’t sound appealing. What the hell was wrong with her lately?

  She poured another shot, downed it, and slammed the glass on the counter. She looked around her tiny studio apartment with the peeling paint, uncomfortable futon, and small television her mother had given her. Jesus, there had to be more to life than this. Wasn’t there?

  No time to get deep, Luna, she scolded herself. She knew what was really bothering her, but it hurt too much to think about.

  Leaning forward, she ran her finger over the date on her calendar that hung on the wall. June 24th—a year to the date of the day she’d lost her baby—Trevor’s baby.

  With a slight tremor in her hand she poured herself another shot. She wondered if she would ever be able to think of him without her stomach twisting.

  That fucking bastard. Closing her eyes, she went back to the day she told him she’d found out she was pregnant.

  They’d been together several months. She would never forget the look on his face: pure, unadulterated panic.

  He’d started rambling about giving her money for an abortion, and Luna had just stared at him. Her mouth dropped open as her heart broke in a million pieces. God knows she hadn’t wanted a baby, but once the shock had worn off, she’d been excited. Wondered if it were twins. Started thinking of names.

  Trevor laid several hundred dollars on the desk and walked out the door. Out of her life for good. To say she was devastated would have been the understatement of the century. She’d been so stressed out and confused. Alone. She could still remember the sound of the door slamming, the hum of the air conditioner, and the faint scent of his cologne that seemed to hover in the air long after he left. In that moment, she had changed forever.

  The only person she’d ever given herself to one hundred percent had left her high and dry when she needed him the most.

  She’d really thought the bastard had loved her, but in the end she was just a piece of ass. If she was going to be used for sex, it was going to be on her terms, not anyone else’s.

  Luna clutched her belly remembering the sharp pains, and the blood, so much blood. She tried to stop the memories, but couldn’t.

  Her baby never had a chance. And she’d never told a soul about the loss. It was too personal, too private. Not to mention she’d been so ashamed; embarrassed by her foolishness. She truly believed Trevor had loved her, and would be as excited as she was at the thought of making a life together.

  A part of her blamed Trevor, for the stress he caused her. She lost the baby later that same night. Maybe the baby would have lived otherwise. But mostly she blamed herself. Obviously, she was flawed, not good enough to be a mother.

  She tried to convince herself it was for the best. Babies were a lot of work, and they cried all the time, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t fair.

  It was as if a switch had been flipped that day. Never again would she be used by any man, never again would she give someone her heart. The moment Trevor placed the money down, treating her like a whore, she knew she’d been changed forever.

  Not that she’d ever been good—no, she’d always been the wild child—but after that day, she’d stopped hoping to someday find happily ever after.

  The front door opened and closed. Luna placed the shot glass in the sink, and ran her hands down the front of her skirt. Get a grip.

  Grayson came into the kitchen, looking exactly like herself, only dressed much lamer. She leaned against the doorway and glanced at the bottle of whiskey.

  “Hey,” Luna said, trying to force some cheer into her voice.

  “You okay?” Grayson frowned, her sister’s eyes were serious when they met her’s.

  Seeing the look on her sister’s face, Luna forced a smile. “Peachy keen, never been better.”

  Grayson eyed her. Luna could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “You sure? If something’s bothering you, we could stay in and have a girls’ night. Watch chick flicks and stuff our faces.”

  Grayson always could read her like a book. The idea of staying in with her sis was much more appealing than going out and pretending like she was having the time of her life. It got exhausting after a while. However, she didn’t want her sister to worry about her. She was just having a rough day, that’s all. So what if it was turning into a rough week. Feeling like a failure did that to you sometimes. Christ, she needed to pull herself together.

  She was getting bitter.

  Luna smiled sardonically. “No way, little sister. There’s a heart out there waiting to be broken by yours truly tonight.”

  Grayson shook her head and laughed. “It amazes me we’re related sometimes.”

  “Ditto!” Luna grabbed her purse off the counter and put a little pep in her step as they walked out the apartment into Derrick’s waiting SUV. Lifting her hips, she slid over Marcus and plunked down in the middle. One of the other guys from Derrick’s team sat on the other side; she couldn’t remember his name. Cute, but she was staying away from anyone that worked with her brother. Unlike her sister.

  Luna leaned between the front seats and turned up the music. She was going to have fun tonight if it killed her.

  Chapter Three

  Outside the bar, patrons milled around talking, drinking, and laughi
ng. Having a grand ole time.

  Luna inhaled deeply. The night air was warm, but not stifling, and the darkened sky promised a storm. If there was one thing she loved, it was a good thunderstorm. Something about it was soothing to her soul.

  The music was loud and raucous. Just the way she liked it. She felt the beat of the music in her chest and started to sway her hips. Even with the storm and the music, inside she still felt hollow. Hopefully, there was a distraction waiting on the other side of the door.

  Fake it till you make it.

  She made eye contact with an attractive guy. When his gaze raked over her curves, Luna turned away to talk to her sister. No need to pick anyone this early. Might be something more appealing waiting inside. After the last disaster she had to choose wiser.

  The bar was shoulder to shoulder with bodies. Lots of regulars. Luna cast her gaze around, already looking for her meal of choice for the evening. Lots of potentials. Living in a military town certainly had its perks. She left the others and sauntered up to the bar; the seas parted, as usual. Men were such suckers for a chick in a short skirt. It was sorta pathetic, but also fun and empowering … most days.

  A warm hand splayed against her lower back, immediately annoying her. When she turned, her breasts pressed firmly against someone’s broad chest and her skin tingled beneath his touch. Her annoyance was quickly forgotten. She couldn’t recall the last time a guy had that kind of affect over her. If ever.

  He leaned down and yelled over the music, “There you are.”

  Luna scanned the length of his body: tall, muscular, strong face, arms covered in ink, light eyes, and slightly tousled dark hair, longer than the military cut. Despite his disheveled look, he was smoking hot and definitely in good shape, with a slender waist and broad shoulders. She always noticed the important details.

  Her eyes slid down to check his ring finger. Ringless.

  When her eyes finally met his, he smiled as if knowing he’d met her approval.

  Sorta ticked her off. And really, that was his pick up line? There you are?

  She preferred to be the one to make the first move. It annoyed her when men thought they had the right to just slither into her personal space. She had to admit he was sexy, but too sure of himself. Even his stance was arrogant. She’d have to pass.

  She didn’t know how long they were staring at each other before she finally spoke.

  “I think you have me mistaken for someone else. My twin sister perhaps?” Luna stepped to the side to walk forward, but he moved, not allowing her to pass. His warm hand grasped her upper arm, keeping her in place. Yet another strike against him.

  It was unnerving the way her body reacted to his even in her agitated state.

  She saw surprise register on his face. He gave her a crooked grin that would melt most hearts, but she was not most girls. “There’s two of you?”

  Luna rolled her eyes. What was it with guys and twin fantasies? She wasn’t in the mood for this shit tonight. She was there to have fun. Forget about life for a while.

  “Get your hands off me,” Luna snapped, raising her chin a fraction.

  His smile quickly disappeared. He looked down at her and held her gaze. In the dim light his face went still and his eyes went cold. He released his grip on her arm and raised his hands, backing away. “You’re not that fucking hot.”

  Luna glared at him and sucked in a breath, wanting to scream. Narrowing her eyes, Luna practically hissed, “Neither are you, dickwad. I don’t take kindly to barbarians thinking they have a right to my body.” She spun on her heels and stalked toward the bathroom.

  Furious, she pushed through the bathroom door and walked toward the sink. Placing her hands on the sides, she leaned in and stared at herself. What the hell just happened?

  Usually, she would have played coy and have that man wrapped around her little finger. Not act like a raving lunatic.

  Obviously, today’s anniversary of her loss bothered her more than she’d like to admit. Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard, trying to erase the memory from her mind. Unconsciously, she laid her hand on her stomach. As if she’d touched fire, she yanked her hand back. She felt a pang of sorrow so deep that tears welled in her eyes. Quickly, she blinked them away. Pull yourself together, she scolded herself. Her nerves were frayed, not a feeling she liked to experience.

  After washing her hands, she made her way to the bar and ordered a double; the guy next to her paid. Luna clanked her glass with his beer bottle and downed it. The familiar warmth spread through her chest. The band started playing one of her favorite songs. Just what she needed, to get lost in the music.

  Hands in the air, she weaved through the crowd of bodies grinding on the dance floor. Luna twirled around and caught the tattooed guy from earlier watching her from one of the pool tables. The white shirt she wore rode up, exposing her flat stomach.

  The way her heartbeat sped up was unsettling.

  One guy sidled up behind her, dancing, and another in front of her, but Luna’s eyes never left the man’s at the pool table. Her body pulsed to the music. He’d handed off his pool stick to someone and leaned against the wall, watching her.

  She put a little extra swing in her hips.

  One of the guys tried to pull her off the dance floor. Luna yanked her arm back.

  She noticed the guy from the pool area took a step forward, but once the guy walked away he settled back against the wall.

  Really, she should be creeped out by the way he was watching her, but something about him made her think he was being protective—not stalkerish.

  Of course, she’s been known to be wrong before.

  She debated going over to him and asking what the hell his problem was, but decided a better course of action would be to get another drink. After all, he had said she wasn’t that hot.

  Screw him.

  ***

  Hours later, Luna slowly ran the tip of her finger around the top of her glass. The bar was so loud she couldn’t hear the annoying, high-pitched hum. Her head was woozy and her hands felt heavy. She was drunk off her ass. It took a lot to get her drunk, and was something she seldom did, because she didn’t like losing control. She knew her limit and usually teetered on the edge, but never went over. Drunk and in a bad mood was not a good thing.

  Why had she allowed that jackass to rattle her earlier? Narrowing her eyes, she scanned the hazy bar to see if he was still around. Where was that fucker? How dare he say she wasn’t that hot.

  She was hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July.

  A few minutes later she spotted him talking to a couple of girls near the pool table. Quickly, she rose to her feet. The ground spun beneath her and she held out her hand, grasping the table to steady herself.

  A large hand grabbed her elbow. “Hey, girl, you’re not looking so hot.”

  Luna blinked, surprised for a moment, and then turned toward the familiar voice. Marcus. “If one more person says that to me tonight I’m going to knock them on their ass.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m sure that’s not something you hear very often. Sit back down before you make a fool of yourself and end up on the floor.”

  Annoyed, she sat back down. He was right. A waitress came and brought another drink, paid for by a gentleman at the bar. Luna didn’t bother to look for who sent it; instead, she reached for the glass, but Marcus beat her to it. “I think you’ve had enough.”

  Luna shook her head and straightened her back, as if willing herself to sober up.

  “When did you get here?” she slurred.

  Marcus shook his head and laughed. “My, my, this is a first. Luna Alexander shit faced. I came with you, remember? I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

  Luna let out a deep breath. “I was just messing with you. Of course I remember.”

  “Sure you were. Can’t take you anywhere,” he teased. “Let me get you some coffee.”

  She didn’t even know they served coffee at the bar. You learn something
new every day.

  When he stood up and made his way toward the bar, Luna’s eyes went back to the pool table. The guy seemed to be looking her way, but she couldn’t be certain, her vision was a little blurry. He probably hadn’t given her a second thought after the bimbos surrounded him.

  To her surprise, he strode over to her table, reaching her in several long strides. She couldn’t take her eyes off his tall, powerful body.

  “Didn’t I already tell you once to buzz off?” Luna glared at him.

  Rather than getting pissed off, he seemed amused. The smug look on his face irritated her ... even if it was a face that looked as though it was a masterpiece carved in stone. She noticed a jagged scar above his left eyebrow. It only added to his perfection.

  He draped his arm across the chair next to her, the casual posture only ticking her off more. At least he could act a little bit apprehensive.

  His cool gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth. She saw his lips twitch and she wondered what he was thinking. Of course he didn’t stop there, his gaze continued downward and blatantly stared at the top of her breasts, which skimmed over her tank top.

  “Like what you see?”

  He glanced up, his eyes locking on hers. “Me and every other asshole in this bar with a pulse.”

  Luna shrugged. Guys liked chicks, period. She wasn’t the only one in the bar, and most of the jackasses couldn’t care less which one they took home. She doubted anyone in the joint was looking for a life partner.

  Why did she allow herself to get inebriated? She couldn’t even think of a smartass comeback.

  “Do you have a ride home?”

  “Yep. What are you, like a dark knight in shining armor?”

  Another half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Apparently it would kill him to give a full-blown smile.

  “I don’t rate a white knight?”