The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,319

plan by the game.

“Turning thirty’s not so bad.” He shrugged and grinned. “I survived it with very little scarring.”

“I was supposed to have my life together by now, Noah.”

“What do you think is missing?”

“I wanted to have an exhibit.”

“You’re working on it. You just need to get back on track. Once you get to Seattle, you’ll be able to devote all your time to it.”

Seattle. Over the last few hours, she’d forgotten about moving to Seattle. If she moved to Seattle, what if they tried this and it epically failed? She couldn’t bear watching him sleep with woman after woman.

Now she was even more depressed and confused.

“What else you got?” he asked.

The pact. The curse. She knew it was stupid and juvenile, but she’d thought it might mean someone would love her enough to stick around.

“Libby.” His voice was gentle and coaxing. “Why are you so upset about turning thirty?”

“My life sucks giant donkey balls.”

He chuckled. “How giant? Anything like the Czechoslovakian egg? Because those would be some impressive balls.”

She swatted his lapel. “Don’t make fun of me, Mr. I-have-my-life-together-and-I-had-a-fucking-girlfriend-but-I-don’t-need-her-because-I’m-sexy-and-all-the-women-in-the-world-throw-themselves-at-my-feet.”

“That’s a very long name,” he murmured. “It’s really weird that I don’t remember changing it. And where’s this line of women? It’s the men who are lining up for you, Libby St. Clair.”

“Who cares?” She didn’t want to talk about all the women he’d screwed. Then she had an idea. “It’s my birthday. I want to play a game.”

Hesitation filled his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“A drinking game.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the counter of a nearby bar. As soon as she had the bartender’s attention, she ordered six shots of vodka.

Noah cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re planning to get totally shit-faced, huh? At least it’s not tequila.”

“Vile stuff.” Back in college, she’d lost a few nights to tequila.

“So what’s this game?” he asked.

She laughed at the fear in his voice. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes widened slightly before focusing on her. “Okay.” He didn’t sound any less fearful. “But I have to warn you that this seems like the wrong place for it. It’s kind of a classy joint. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

She shook her head. “Nope. This is us. All dressed up fancy but keepin’ it real.”

The bartender started to pour the shots, and when he finished Noah stopped him before he walked off. “Can we have some shot glasses with water? Say six? And a draft beer.”

“Sure.” The guy shook his head muttering something about weirdos as he left to fill the glasses.

Libby was about to pounce on him, but Noah held up his hand in defense. “Since I’ve turned thirty and become an old geezer,” he teased, “I’ll pass out after three shots. Let’s make it last longer.”

“Where’s the fun in drinking water?”

“We’ll mix them up so we won’t know if we’re drinking vodka or water. Like a drinking Russian roulette game.”

“Okay.” She had to admit it was a good idea. “And the beer?”

“Hey, beer goes with everything. So how’s this work?”

“We get to ask each other a question. If you answer my question, I have to drink the shot. If you pass, you do.”

“What can we ask?”

“Anything.”

He pondered it for a moment, then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “What about the dare part?”

“Drinking the shots is the dare.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ll only play if daring is an option.”

What was he up to? What did it matter? She was the one who’d suggested the game, and she’d done it because she wanted answers.

After the bartender delivered Noah’s draft and their shot glasses of water, Noah mixed up all the shot glasses, then gave her a wink before he took a sip of his beer.

She squared her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll go first.”

Noah grinned. “I’m ready.”

“Truth.” She gave him a sexy smile and leaned forward. “Why did you break up with Donna?”

She studied his eyes, but he gave nothing away as he rested his forearm on the counter. “Many reasons. She was a bitch. She tried to change me. She hated my apartment. She wanted me to get another job, preferably investment banking . . . and she hated you.”

“She hated me? She didn’t even know me.”

“She was jealous of you. I think she knew that she and I would never be as close as you and I are.”

The giddiness she felt over Noah’s misfortune filled her with guilt, yet it was undeniable. But she could understand why Donna hadn’t understood their friendship. Right now