Truth or Dare (Kingston Brothers Book 2)

by Isabel Lucero

  “Cill,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me. “I’m feeling a little hot again. I think I’m gonna go lay down.”

  I jump up. “Yeah, sure. Here.” I grab her hand and pull her up, then walk her down the hall to her room.

  “I’m gonna pee first,” she says, disappearing into the bathroom.

  When she comes back out, I pull the covers back and wait for her to climb in, then I cover her up. “I see you have your own little pharmacy over here,” I say, looking at the variety of medicines on her nightstand. “What do you need? Tylenol? Or DayQuil?”

  She has a coughing fit then rips off her mask. “Ugh. DayQuil is fine. Thanks.”

  I hand her the pills and some water, and as soon as she’s done, I go into the bathroom and wet a washcloth to drape over her head.

  “I hope you feel better.”

  “Thanks.”

  Midge wakes up about an hour and a half later and stops in her tracks when she walks into the living room. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I reply, looking over the back of the couch.

  “You’re still here.”

  “I am.”

  “Why? Haven’t you been bored?”

  I gesture to the TV with the remote. “I have stuff to watch.”

  She shakes her head and walks into the kitchen. “So, how long are you planning on staying?”

  I get up from the couch and meet her by the fridge. “Until I know you’re gonna survive.”

  She coughs out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die.”

  “They always say rest is important when you’re sick. So, go sit down and tell me what you want. More tea? Food? Water?”

  She leans against the counter. “I was gonna get some juice. I’ll try to eat later. Everything tastes like crap, anyway.”

  “Okay, I’ll get the juice. You wanna sit on the couch or go back to your bed?”

  “Bed. It’s more comfortable.”

  After I pour a glass of apple juice, we make our way back to her room. Midge gets under the covers, but sits up with her back leaning against the headboard of her queen-sized bed.

  “You good?” I question.

  She shakes her head, putting the glass of juice on the nightstand. “Stay in here with me? I’m not going back to sleep, and we’d just be up watching TV in two different rooms.”

  I pull my mask out of my pocket. “Good thing I’m prepared.”

  Midge laughs and finds the remote under her pillow. “Really don’t wanna get sick, huh?”

  “Would you come over and take care of me if I was?” I ask.

  She flips through a couple channels before answering. “Yeah, I would. If you wanted me there.”

  Her eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of moments, a simple statement, left hanging between us as a question. Would I want her at my house taking care of me if I was sick? Yes. Fuck yes. But would we be just friends or something more? Back to the benefits? Or an actual relationship? Because, obviously we’re still not quite on the same page.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say, heading to the living room.

  Once I’m back in the room, I toss the coloring books and colored pencils in the middle of the bed.

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” I reply, getting on the bed and leaning against the headboard with her. “We have to have our contest.”

  She grabs a book and pours the pencils out of the box. “Who’s gonna decide? Because, obviously, if I’m choosing, I’m gonna win.”

  I flip through the pages looking for a picture. “Oh, so you’re gonna lie to yourself? I guess, I’ll decide since I can be impartial.”

  She snorts. “Right.”

  Midge rips out a page about five minutes in and crushes it in her palm. “I messed up.”

  “Let me see.” I laugh, reaching for the wrinkled paper.

  “I’ll cough on you. Get away.”

  “How did you mess up?”

  “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

  I shake my head and go back to my picture while Midge chooses a new one. We focus on our pictures while half paying attention to reruns of an old TV show.

  “How ya doin’ over there?”

  “Pretty good. You should definitely be scared. Though, I don’t know why you couldn’t get a regular child’s coloring book and not one of these adult coloring books. This is gonna take forever.”

  “We have plenty of time. You’ll still be sick for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow.”

  She stops coloring, and I see her head turn in my direction through my peripheral vision. “Are you staying over?”

  I don’t look over, I just continue to color. “Do you want me to?”

  She hesitates for several seconds. “You probably don’t need to. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been sick before.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  She keeps watching me. “But, you could stay if you want. Or just stay late and then come back tomorrow. Or, you know, whatever you wanna do.”

  I grin, staring down at my page. “Okay.” When she keeps watching me, I say, “You better get back to coloring.”

  The hours fly by as we switch between coloring, watching TV, eating, and playing card games. It isn’t until almost ten o’clock when we finally stop pretending their isn’t an elephant in the room.

  “Cill?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, looking up from my phone.

  “I really appreciate you spending the day with me, especially considering we aren’t, you know, whatever we were before,” she says, focusing on her coloring page.

  “We were friends before and we’re still friends,” I tell her.

  “I know, but you know.”

  “Look, I only said we should take a break because you seemed to be really concerned about people finding out about us. Not because it’s what I wanted to do. Midge, we’re clearly not on the same page right now, but I’m hoping all you need is a little more time.”

  She puts her book and pencil down, angling her head up to look at me. “I have trust issues.”

  “Okay.”

  She looks at me like that should be enough of an explanation. “So, relationships are hard for me.”

  “I get it,” I answer with a nod.

  She shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something else, but instead, she has another coughing fit.

  I go to the kitchen to make her some tea and grab some cough drops. When I get back to the room, she’s taking a couple pills and climbing under the covers. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I put the tea and cough drops next to her. “I’ll let you get some rest. Text me if you need anything, otherwise, I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Okay,” she says with a nod. “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime.”

  I make sure to lock the door behind me, and then I make my way home.

  38

  Midge

  By Thursday evening, I’m rested and almost completely rejuvenated. Cillian’s already been by to check on me, and even brought some food that wasn’t soup. I didn’t eat a whole lot, but at least food is starting to taste a little better.

  I shooed him away once I learned he called out of work yesterday just to hang out with me. He stayed for a couple hours earlier, but I didn’t want him missing any more work because I was sick.

  Unfortunately, we didn’t really talk about where we stand, but I’m assuming we’re still taking a break, and I’m starting to wonder how long that’s going to last. What determines when we can start things back up? When I decide I’m ready to go public?

  My phone goes off, and I find a text from London.

  London: You still alive over there?

  Midge: Alive. Feeling better.

  London: Good.

  Her brief response makes me wonder if she’s upset with me,

  but thirty minutes later, London’s at my door.

  “I know you got my text.” London confronts me the minute I open the door.

&nbs
p; “Yeah, I know. I responded.”

  She narrows her eyes at me from the doorway, then proceeds to march inside and sit on the couch. “I meant my other text. The one I sent before you were sick.”

  I close the door as slowly as possible, buying time, then unhurriedly make my way to the living room. “Oh yeah. Well, I’ve been sort of dying.”

  “And making sure I kept away.”

  “I didn’t want you to get sick.”

  She crosses her arms and studies me. “You and Cillian are hooking up.”

  She flings the statement out there and lets it sit between us. She studies my face intently, waiting for me to either deny or confirm it. The fact that she said it with so much confidence makes me wonder what she heard or saw. It’s been killing me to keep this from her. She’s my best friend. A sister I never had. And she’s about to be incredibly pissed.

  I let loose a sigh and plop onto the couch cushion. “Yes.”

  She gasps dramatically, flying back like someone gave her a violent shove. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You said it like you already knew!”

  “I was assuming, but for real?”

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s been killing me. I’ve been dying to talk to you about this, but…”

  “But what? Midge, I’m your best friend! Why wouldn’t you tell me this?”

  The hurt on her face breaks my heart. “I didn’t want things to be weird for you. Or Royce. Or all of us.” I take a deep breath and blow it out. “Truth is, I think things have already ended.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If we had told everybody, it would be really fucking awkward right now. We all hang out around each other. I’m at the bar with you and Royce twice a week, and Cillian pops in from time to time. We have parties and barbeques, and I wouldn’t want it to mess up my friendship with Royce or have it to where we all can’t hang out anymore. Cillian said we should take a breather, but I think it’s because I was having a minor panic attack about you maybe having found out.”

  London shakes her head. “I’m confused.”

  “Your initial text. The we need to talk text. I was freaking out about you knowing. I think it upset him. I mean, clearly it did. He hasn’t outright said it, but I think he’s ready for more. To go public. And I’m over here having a panic attack over you finding out.” I roll my eyes at myself and huff. “Pretty sure I messed this up. I knew we wouldn’t last, and this is why I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  London rests her hand on my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You’re crazy. You’re an insane person, you know that?”

  “What?”

  She huffs, looking around the room before zeroing in on me again. “I don’t know that me and Royce are gonna last. I just hope. I hope beyond everything that what we have keeps working. That we continue to love each other more than anything. That’s it. That’s all anybody has. Hope.

  “Have you ever thought about what would happen if me and Royce broke up? Would our nights at the bar have to stop? Would you feel inclined to choose me over him, even though you’ve been friends with him longer? Would you stop going to the bar? Would I have to stop talking to his brothers?”

  My brows draw together as I chew on the corner of my lip. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  She exhales. “I have, but you know what? What me and Royce have is worth the risk. Isn’t that what love is all about? Taking a risk? Being vulnerable?”

  Who knew all I needed was my best friend to tell me how dumb I was being? I needed London from the start. Every girl needs a best friend to tell you like it is. No bullshit. If I’m being dumb, someone needs to tell me. I hadn’t thought about her and Royce breaking up. They’re so perfect together it doesn’t make sense for them to be with anyone else. Maybe that’s how I should start thinking. I get so caught up on the what ifs. I worry about the past way too much to even allow myself a peek at the future.

  “You’re so wise,” I say with a grin.

  She tries to suppress a smile. “And you’re so stupid. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this! Now I need all the details!”

  “What does it matter now? We’re done.”

  London frowns. “You said he was upset because you were freaking out about me knowing, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But now I know. And everything’s okay.”

  “True.”

  “And I’ve graced you with my wisdom, and now you know that it shouldn’t matter who knows.”

  “Right, but—”

  “Ah!” She raises her hand and cuts me off. “No buts.”

  I make a face at her. “I hate you.”

  “Sure, now give me details!”

  “First, tell me how you figured it out.”

  She snorts. “I hadn’t. Not completely, but I had my suspicions. And then at Elijah’s on Sunday, he made chicken piccata, and Cillian said ‘Oh, I just had that at…’ and trailed off and ended up saying some restaurant or something. But you had just told me you had chicken piccata at your parents’ house. So, what the fuck? Y’all are having family dinners together?”

  “Damn chicken piccata,” I say with a laugh. “No, my mom wanted to invite him over because she hadn’t seen him in a while. It was a family dinner in the sense that my mom acts like he’s her long lost son, but not like I’m bringing home my future husband.”

  London looks at her phone, replies to a text, then places it on the cushion and meets my gaze. “I need the quickest rundown ever. Go.”

  I sit up straight, take a deep breath, and finally tell my best friend everything I’ve wanted to tell her since this started.

  “It started at the lake house after the body shots.”

  “I knew it!”

  I ignore her and keep going. “We kept drinking, everybody left, we got close and played a game of Truth or Dare, then ended up having sex.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “When y’all went to the beach, we had sex then too. And the night before y’all left.”

  “Horny bastards.”

  “Oh, whatever, like you and Royce weren’t doing the same thing.”

  She grins. “Okay, keep going.”

  “Oh. He’s pierced.”

  “What?”

  “Pierced. His dick. And it’s huge.”

  Her mouth forms an O, and her hand covers it. “Wow, that’s...wow. Okay.”

  “Yes, and he’s fucking phenomenal. Like, the best. Anyway, we’ve hooked up a few more times since he’s been back in town. Like the day you came over and he was here.”

  “I knew it!” she repeats, pointing at me.

  I playfully roll my eyes. “And Sunday.”

  “That’s why he left all early.”

  “Yeah, but that’s also when he said we should stop.” I look down and pull at fibers in my robe. “But before that, we agreed we’d be monogamous friends-with-benefits.”

  London cocks her head to the side. “So y’all are, or were, only sleeping with each other?”

  “Yes.”

  “But it wasn’t going to be a relationship?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  I sigh. “I’ve been thinking about trying, but I was afraid of going public because I didn’t want things to be weird.”

  “But again, now that I know, and you’ve heard all of my sage advice, none of that matters.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  “Look, I know you have trust issues. I get it, I do, but you can’t put every man into the same category as Matthew. Especially not Cill. He’s great. You’ve been saying that forever. If anybody defies the stereotypical man who doesn’t give a shit about a woman’s feelings and cares only about himself, it’s Cill.”

  “I know, and I do really like him. I admitted how I felt about him back in high school. Well, I didn’t say that I was head-over-heels in love with him back then, but no need for all those details.”

  London laughs. “I don’t see the problem then.”r />
  Excitement blooms in my chest as a smile grows on my lips. “Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe I’ll tell him we can take this public and see what happens.”

  “Yes!” London says, grabbing my hand and squeezing.

  “I’m still afraid it’s bad timing on his end. Maybe I should let him sleep around for a little bit first.”

  London rolls her eyes. “Ugh. You’re terrible! Maybe he doesn't want to sleep with half the town.”

  “He’s single, though. And half the town would drop their panties for him. Why wouldn’t he take advantage?”

  London strokes my hand. “Honey, you have got to stop thinking all men are the same. And he’s so obviously into you.”

  I run my hands through my hair. “Ugh, I know. See, I have problems.”

  “Tell him your issues. Be up front about all of that.”

  “I mean, he knows, but he doesn’t know all the details about what happened between me and Matthew.”

  She glances at the time again. “I gotta go. I’m meeting Royce in a few.” Pointing a finger at me, she says, “You figure your shit out and talk to Cill about it. His birthday is this weekend, you could surprise him by kissing him in front of everybody!” Her eyes are full of glee.

  I give her a level look. “I don’t know about all that, but I do like the idea of telling him on his birthday. I’ll think about it.”

  Once she’s gone, I breathe a sigh of relief. A weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and the thought of going forward in an actual relationship with Cill makes my stomach do a somersault and my heart skip a beat. Let’s hope I’m not too late.

  39

  Cillian

  It’s Saturday night, and I’m officially twenty-seven. For the past three days, Royce has been talking about the party non-stop. He’s not closing the bar down to the public, so we’ll just be partying amongst the customers, but I still look forward to it.

  I look forward to seeing Midge tonight, even if we’re back to only being friends for the time being. I’ve checked in on her via text a few times, and she says she’s back to normal. She also seems pretty excited about giving me my present. I tried to pry it out of her, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was, and then I tried to tell her I didn’t need anything, but she didn’t want to hear that either.