1 Daisy, a freshman with a reputation for being “the sweet, innocent one,” had just lost a round of Truth or Dare. Her dare? Kiss any guy in this room for a full three minutes. Without a second of hesitation, her eyes locked onto Hudson, my boyfriend. The music in the lounge seemed to fade into a dull hum as everyone’s attention shifted to him. Hudson didn’t look up; he was absentmindedly tracing patterns on the palm of my hand with his thumb, acting as if he didn’t feel the weight of her gaze. Daisy bit her lip, looking at me with wide, faux-bashful eyes. “Sadie, do you think I could borrow Hudson for three minutes? Just for the game?” The air in the booth grew thick. It felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the “good girl” to make a scene or step aside. I didn’t get it. “There are a dozen single guys here, Daisy,” I said, my voice steady despite the hammering in my chest. “Why ask for mine?” She went silent, her face flushing a deep, performative red. She looked down at her lap, the picture of a wounded bird. Eventually, she stood up and shuffled to the other side of the booth to ask other guys. Two of them turned her down flat. The third, a guy who’d clearly had too many tequila shots, grinned toothily. “I’m down,” he slurred. “We doing tongue, or what?” Daisy looked like she was about to burst into tears. “No, no, I didn’t mean—” The drunk guy didn’t care. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him with clumsy aggression. That was when Hudson finally stopped playing the quiet observer. He let go of my hand, stood up, and wrenched Daisy back toward our side of the table. “Does making a girl uncomfortable make you feel like a man?” Hudson’s voice was like ice. Daisy clung to his arm, looking up at him like he was her personal savior. At the same time, I reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve. Hudson looked down at me. I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I forced a small, calm smile. “I have a pounding headache, Hudson. Can we just go home? Please?” Leave with me, Hudson. Right now. Prove to me that she’s just some girl from your department and that I’m the only one who matters. Our eyes met. For a second, I thought he would say yes. Then, he gently pulled his arm away. “You know I can’t do that, Sadie,” he murmured. “I started this. I have to see it through.” He saw my eyes welling up and sighed, kneeling in front of me. His voice took on that low, soothing tone he used whenever he thought I was being difficult. “Daisy is in my program, and I’m her mentor. I can’t just let her get harassed. Be a good girl for me, okay?” He reached up, brushing a stray tear from the corner of my eye. “If it bothers you, just look away. It’ll be over in a few minutes.” I gripped his cuff so hard the white fabric wrinkled. “Hudson, if you kiss her, I’m breaking up with you. I mean it.” My eyes were burning, but the tears stopped falling. I stared straight into him. “I will actually leave you.” Hudson’s patience finally snapped. He pried my fingers off his sleeve, one by one. He stood up and looked down at me, and for the first time, I saw the look he usually reserved for people he considered beneath him—like the time his mother’s housekeeper tried to set him up with her daughter. It was a look of polite, refined disdain. “Don’t be so small-minded, Sadie. It’s embarrassing.” 2 One of Hudson’s fraternity brothers, seeing the tension, tried to play peacemaker. “Come on, Sadie, don’t take it so seriously. It’s just a game.” His girlfriend chimed in with a loud whisper, “God, she’s such a buzzkill. Why even come to a bar if you’re going to act like a nun?” Before I could snap back, a low, melodic laugh came from the shadows in the corner of the booth. The focus shifted instantly to Miles Callahan. Miles was the star of the Finance department—the kind of guy who was usually too cool, or perhaps too intelligent, to participate in these mindless drinking games. He was leaning back, his head propped on his hand, watching the girl who had just called me a buzzkill. “You’re so ‘adventurous,’ huh?” Miles asked, his voice smooth but edged with a blade. “Why don’t you go around the room and kiss every guy here then? Show us how it’s done.” He paused, then added with a slow, dangerous tilt of his head, “Except me. I don’t play that way.” He knew exactly how to humiliate someone without raising his voice. The girl turned beet red, stammering, unable to find a comeback. Miles pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a silver lighter, and tossed the lighter onto the marble table with a sharp clack. “Boring,” he muttered, echoing her own insult back at her. I stared at him, stunned. Miles was Hudson’s friend—or at least in the same circle. I hadn’t expected him to breathe a word in my defense. I was so caught off guard that I barely even processed the fact that Hudson and Daisy were currently locked in a three-minute embrace. By the time I looked back, it was over. The hurt hadn’t even arrived yet; it was surpassed by a cold, clear realization. 3 By the time Hudson sat back down next to me, looking oddly satisfied, I had already opened my phone. I deleted his contact and unfollowed him on everything in three seconds flat. The smug look on his face vanished. “What are you doing?” “I told you. We’re done.” I went to block his number, but he grabbed my wrist. “Are we really doing this? Again?” He let out a dry, frustrated laugh. “It was a dare, Sadie. How many times do I have to say it? You’re being incredibly dramatic. If the roles were reversed and you had to kiss someone for a game, I wouldn’t care at all.” He said it because he knew me. He knew I was the “good girl,” the one who followed the rules, the one who would never dream of doing something “improper.” He felt safe in his disrespect. Just as the words left his mouth, the crowd at the other end of the table erupted. Miles had just pulled the most notorious dare in the deck: Take any girl in this room and spend the night with her at a hotel. Someone laughed, shouting, “And we mean a real hotel, Miles! Receipts required!” Miles didn’t move at first. Someone tried to bail him out. “Come on, everyone knows Miles is a saint. He hasn’t touched a girl on campus in three years. Just take the penalty shot and move on.” Everyone assumed he’d pass. Usually, people just laughed off the ‘spend the night’ dares. “Wait,” Miles said. He looked up, and his dark eyes landed directly on me. The room went silent. He stood up slowly, walked over to where I was sitting, and held out his hand. He gave me a look that felt like it could melt the floor beneath us. “Want to try it with me tonight, Sadie?” Hudson narrowed his eyes, a tight smirk on his face. “Miles, you’re drunk. I’ll call you an Uber. Sadie is my girlfriend.” The air between them crackled like a live wire. Miles gave him a dismissive, sideways glance. “So? It’s just a game, Hudson. Don’t be such a buzzkill.” Hudson shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever. Sadie’s too conservative anyway. She’d never say yes. I’m just turning you down on her behalf to save you the embarrassment.” I looked at Hudson’s confident, arrogant face. Then I looked at Miles’s extended hand. I thought about every time I’d been called “good” or “pure” as if it were a synonym for “boring.” I placed my hand in Miles’s. “Okay.” Hudson’s smirk froze. I felt the alcohol fueling a sudden, rebellious fire in my veins. Miles’s fingers closed around mine, firm and warm. He pulled me up and started leading me toward the exit. Behind us, the room exploded. “Holy shit! Was that Miles? Am I hallucinating?” Hudson’s voice cut through the noise. “Stop.” He stayed seated, looking at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “I was just going to say—” he chuckled, though it sounded strained. “Tell me which hotel. I’ll send over a pack of condoms. You’re going to need them if you’re planning on staying in character.” I beat Miles to the punch, flashing Hudson a brilliant, sharp smile. “Don’t worry about it, Hudson. Worrying about your ex’s sex life is a bit pathetic, don’t you think? You’re starting to look like a desperate fan.” I gave him a look of pure pity. “And honestly? I’m just not into desperate guys.” Before he could explode, I pulled Miles through the door and into the cool night air. 4 It wasn’t until I was buckled into the passenger seat of Miles’s Audi that I finally let out a long, shaky breath. The suffocating weight of the night was gone, replaced by a strange, buzzing adrenaline. “Thanks for the assist back there, Miles,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You can just drop me off at the next subway station.” I assumed he was just playing along to help me save face. Miles kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel. “You know what happens if we’re caught lying about a dare, right?” I shook my head, not really caring. Usually, those “curses” were just stupid things like you’ll be single forever. I pulled out my phone to check the group chat rules. Admin: Tonight’s stakes are high. If you lie about a dare, you’ll be broke for life. Debt, bad luck, and zero career success. The universe is watching! My heart did a somersault. I’m an accountant’s daughter. I don’t mess with financial curses. I stared at the screen in horror. Miles pulled over near a subway entrance. He tilted his head toward the door, a faint, mocking smile on his lips. “Go ahead, Sadie. It’s just a lifetime of poverty. No big deal.” “No,” I said, gripping the door handle. “I can’t risk it. I really believe in that stuff.” Miles seemed to misinterpret my hesitation. “Can’t get the door open?” He leaned over, his arm brushing mine as he reached for the handle. Suddenly, his body was hovering over mine, pinning me into the small space of the passenger seat. He looked down at me, his dark eyes searching mine. “What are we doing, Sadie?” My brain was a mess of tequila and spite. I blinked, and the words just tumbled out: “I want to sleep with you.” Miles’s expression didn’t change. He simply pulled back, returning to his seat. He let out a short, hollow laugh. “Well, I don’t.” The silence that followed was so awkward I thought I might actually spontaneously combust. My face felt like it was on fire. I nodded slowly, trying to keep my voice from trembling. “Right. Sorry. I think I’ve had too much to drink. That was way out of line.” I looked down at my shoes. “I’ll just go.” Miles clicked the door locks. He started the car again without a word. I looked at his profile; he looked colder, more rigid than before. I figured he was disgusted by my “act.” I tried to apologize again, sounding like a rambling schoolgirl. “Seriously, Miles, I didn’t mean it. I don’t actually have designs on you. You’re… you’re very handsome, obviously, but you’re not my type at all. You’re safe. I swear.” Zero response. The speedometer climbed. Why did he look even angrier now? 5 After ten minutes of agonizing silence, Miles pulled up in front of a quiet, upscale lounge—the kind with dim lighting and leather booths. He sensed my confusion. “Don’t forget,” he said, tapping the steering wheel. “The dare says we have to stay together all night. It didn’t say we had to do it in a bed.” I felt a wave of relief. Miles was a gentleman after all. A brilliant, clean-living guy who just wanted to help me win the game. I followed him inside. He seemed to know the owner; he got me settled into a private booth and then disappeared for a moment. My phone buzzed. It was a call from an unknown number. I answered, only to hear Hudson’s voice on the other end, talking to Daisy. They didn’t know I could hear them. “Hudson, aren’t you going to call her?” Daisy was cooing. “Aren’t you worried she’s actually going to do something with him?” Hudson’s voice was full of arrogant certainty. “You don’t know Sadie. She’s too repressed. This is just a pathetic attempt to make me jealous. She’s probably back in her dorm room, crying into a pillow right now.” Daisy giggled. “You seem so calm. It’s almost like you don’t even like her that much.” There was a pause. “I don’t,” Hudson said. I hung up, the rage boiling over. He was right about one thing: I was planning on going back to my dorm to sleep it off. But hearing him say it—hearing the absolute lack of respect—made something inside me snap. A waiter arrived with a cocktail. I grabbed it and downed half of it in one gulp, hoping to drown the humiliation. The waiter stared at me, then his eyes went wide. “Miss! That’s the wrong drink! That was the owner’s private reserve!” He looked like he’d seen a ghost and ran off toward the back where Miles had gone. 6 It took about five minutes for me to realize why the waiter was so panicked. That drink wasn’t just alcohol. It was… enhanced. By the time Miles reappeared, my grip on reality was slipping. “Sadie? You okay?” He leaned down, his cool hand pressing against my flushed cheek. “You feel so good,” I whispered, leaning into his touch. “So cold.” Even with my brain melting, I remembered he didn’t want me. I pushed his hand away, stumbling toward the exit. “Where are you going?” Miles caught my arm, his brow furrowed. I looked at him, my instincts taking over. “Miles, I think I need a man. Like, right now.” Before he could say anything, I added, “But it won’t be you. Don’t worry.” I didn’t want to be “immoral” and force myself on a guy who’d already rejected me. I leaned in, enunciating every word. “I promise. I’ll find someone else. You’re safe.” Miles’s face went dark—darker than I’d ever seen it. He let go of my arm and stared at me. “Is that so? Well, Sadie, I hope you’re a woman of your word.” 7 The next thing I knew, I was being carried into a hotel suite. My self-control had officially left the building. I felt like I was trapped in a humid, sweltering swamp. Miles was in the room, but he had changed. He had his shirt off, revealing a lean, muscular torso. He was wearing nothing but a pair of grey lounge pants, leaning back against the sofa, watching me with an unreadable expression. “Come here,” he said. My eyes wandered over his abs—six perfectly defined muscles—and I couldn’t look away. I shuffled over to him like a moth to a flame. He was holding a small bottle of what looked like medicinal oil. “Since I helped you out tonight,” he said, his voice a low, honeyed caress, “how about you help me with this? My muscles are killing me.” I nodded, feeling like a melting ice cream cone. “Where does it hurt, Miles?” He took my burning hand and placed it on his stomach. “Right here.” I blinked rapidly, trying to stay focused, but my face was the color of a ripe peach. He didn’t say a word, just moved my hand to another muscle. “Here too, Sadie.” He was back to being the teasing, dangerous Miles. As I “rubbed in the oil,” I somehow ended up straddling his lap. He reached up, his fingertips grazing my lips. “Does it hurt here, too?” I whispered, staring at his mouth. “Kiss it,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “Find out.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, all logic gone. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It was supposed to be a light kiss, but Miles caught the back of my head, his tongue sliding past my teeth with a sudden, possessive hunger.
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