Hiring Mr. Darcy - Valerie Bowman Page 0,76

my toes in my socks.

“Look, trust me, if Harrison’s kissing Lacey, it’s not because she’s pretty. The guy my ex cheated with was in his fifties and had a Hitler moustache.”

What? What in the hell was Jeremy talking about? Someone cheated on him? “Wait. Let’s be clear, was this a high school ex?” I didn’t want to be rude, but he certainly looked a lot different now from what he’d looked like in high school, at least as much as my crappy memory could recall. Perhaps that explained McFoxy being cheated on.

“Nope. This was only a couple of years ago,” he replied, rolling up the Walker’s bag and tossing it onto the nightstand.

I sucked in my breath. “Wow. A Hitler moustache, really? That’s tough.” I flipped over onto my belly and rested my chin on my propped-up elbow. “You must tell me more.”

“Like what?” Jeremy asked.

“Like how you found out.”

“No.” He shook his head.

I frowned. “What? Why?”

“It’s personal,” he said, but he was smiling.

I threw a pillow at him. “I just told you all about my embarrassing break-up. Two of them, in fact.”

“Yeah, well, I think these things are best left for the right occasion, such as...playing Truth or Dare?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

Warning bells sounded in my head. We’d already established that I always choose truth. What if Jeremy asked me something like exactly how hot did I find him? Answer: Smoking. Or whether I’d ever had a sexual fantasy about him? Answer: Guilty.

“I don’t think so,” I said, guzzling more beer.

“Why not?”

I rested the bottle on the blankets in front of me and contemplated the question for a moment. Why not, indeed? What’s the worst thing that could happen? Jeremy could find out I had the hots for him, he could drunkenly take me up on the offer, and we could have a night of unbridled passion as revenge for what Harrison most likely had already done with Lacey? Perhaps not surprisingly, the beer assisted in my deciding this was a potentially good idea.

“Okay,” I relented, gulping down about half my bottle in one probably completely unsexy maneuver. “Let’s do it.”

“You have to promise me you’ll take at least one dare,” Jeremy said.

“No way.” I shook my head emphatically.

He brushed his hands together and grabbed another beer. “Why not?”

“Because I never take dares. That’s how you end up streaking through a parking lot or eating a dead cricket.”

Jeremy snorted. “A dead cricket is better than a live one, isn’t it?”

Oh God. “Have you eaten a live cricket?”

“No, but my point is that it’s no fun to play Truth or Dare with someone who always picks the same thing.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “Who told you I was fun? They’re a liar.”

He shook his head at me. “Come on, Meg, at least one dare. I promise I won’t make you do anything gross.”

I stared at my beer bottle for a minute before sternly pointing my finger at the bottle. “I’m going to blame you for this tomorrow,” I said to it before tipping it back and draining it. The bottle didn’t reply.

I pulled myself over to the edge of the bedlet and let my feet hang over the side facing Jeremy. I reached for another beer, which was sitting on top of the bed. Jeremy grabbed it first and held it away from me. “Whoa. Maybe you should take a break.”

“Just one more. I promise. I’m fine.” I made grabby hands for the bottle.

He reluctantly gave it to me. “You go first,” he offered.

“Fine.” I pulled my pillows from the top of the bed and arranged them behind me, then I settled back against them and propped my feet on the edge of the bed, my knees in the air. “Truth or dare?” I intoned.

“Truth,” he said.

I smiled smugly. “How did you find out your ex was cheating on you?”

“How did I know you were going to ask that?” Jeremy replied.

“That’s not an answer.” I remained smug.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and leaned forward off the bed, his bare feet braced on the floor. He hung his head. “She told me.”

“That’s it. That’s the big personal secret?” I immediately felt like an ass for saying that. It was clearly painful for him. Beautiful people hurt sometimes, too. I’d do well to remember it.

He shook his head. “She told me when I called her cell at four a.m. I asked her where she was and she said she was in bed with another man.”

“Oh.”