I want to pretend I’m offended, deny Barrett’s alleged claims that I am not the world’s most underrated bocce ball player, but Barrett is full on smiling now and my argument evaporates.

I like smiling Barrett a lot. So much so, that when he takes a step back, I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him closer. A moment later he’s standing between my spread legs.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” I announce within inches of Barrett’s face.

“That’s what you want to play?” His lips twitch.

“’May the odds be ever in your favor,’” I say dramatically.

“How does that apply here?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to say it.” I shrug. Let a girl have her moment. “Okay, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he says.

“What’s up with the ladder?”

“What do you mean?” The material of his shirt grows taut as he retreats.

“You had a reaction to me being on it and while I know you were upset about me dancing with Ryan Shaw, it seemed like more than that.”

Barrett takes a deep breath in; his eyes drop to his feet before he meets my gaze again.

“I don’t like heights.”

“You’re afraid of heights?!” My voice rises, mainly due to disbelief.

Barrett narrows his eyes at me.

“Sorry.”

I nod for him to continue.

“Even something as simple as a ladder gives me anxiety. I’ve learned to manage it, avoid things that trigger it.”

“Do you fly?”

“With the window closed.”

“What about tall buildings?”

“You won’t find me with my nose pressed to the window.”

“That’s fascinating.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were the kind of guy that isn’t afraid of anything.”

“You thought wrong.” He studies me for a moment. “My turn.”

Ah, yes. I forgot about that part.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

“Option C. We make out.” I lick my lips and Barrett’s eyes drop to my mouth. Where’s a ‘who can kiss their sexy fake boyfriend the longest’ contest when you need one? “Fred may have spies in the bushes. We should make it convincing.”

We’re so close now, we’re breathing the same air.

He swerves at the last minute and his lips brush along my jaw.

“You’re such a tease,” I say.

“You wanted to play this game.”

“That was before I realized I’d have to participate,” I whine.

“Okay. We don’t have to play.” Barrett shrugs and I think I’ve gotten off easy. He places those hands of his, the same ones that were wrapped around his hard length in the shower this morning, on either side of my hips. He must be a mind reader. “Let’s talk about this morning.”

“Of what are you referring to?” I ask like I haven’t been thinking about it all day.

“You watching me in the shower.”