Truth or Dare by Mira Lyn Kelly Page A

didn’t get enough play could get lost if they weren’t careful.
    That
thing
between them that fired up every time their eyes locked or she turned her head a certain way, giving him more of a look at the slender curve of her neck than he should ever have—that
thing
he wanted to ignore because, when it wasn’t messing with his head, Maggie was the kind of friend,
shit,
the kind of friend he really needed—that
thing
had threatened to take over.
    But tempting as it was to let it, he couldn’t have Maggie that way. She couldn’t be his girlfriend. And as to what he could give her? Hell.
All
he could give her was a second date with whatever stipulations it involved.
    Suddenly Tyler stopped, slowly backtracking through his girly angst until he found a point of clarity and took another look at the night ahead of him.
    Okay, so he couldn’t do serious. Despite the fact that somewhere deep down in his psyche he’d decided
serious
was what Maggie ought to have, it wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she’d
asked
for.
    What Maggie
wanted
was a
good date.
A no-strings, never-again, good date that ended with a decent kiss.
    Maggie wanted to have some fun. And when it was over, she wanted the same kind of friendship between them that he did. Which meant they were on the same page. No one was going to get the wrong idea. No one would be hurt or misled if they gave in, just a little, to that thing between them and for one night had some fun.
    Tyler grabbed the phone and, rubbing his jaw, headed over toward the window. Shoulder propped against the casing, he thumbed in his text.
    Here are my rules.
    —
    Tyler Wells gave good date.
    So good, if he hadn’t taken her to such a swank place, Maggie might have considered scrawling it on the ladies’ room door. But as she peered out from their fourth-floor window-side table, watching the fat snowflakes drift and swirl toward Michigan Avenue below and feeling more relaxed on this date than she could ever remember being on another, it hardly seemed appropriate thanks.
    Tyler had shown up at her door at six fifty-eight, a bouquet of rich-hued flowers in hand and a wolfish grin on his face.
    “So we’re agreed on the rules?” he’d asked.
    “All two of them?” She rolled her eyes, doubting the effect, considering the way she was beaming at her flowers—at the way Tyler seemed to have recovered so completely from what had happened or almost happened before he’d left. “Rule one: We work this date for everything it’s worth.”
    “And two,” he said as he stepped into the apartment. “We remember it’s
only
tonight.”
    He was excited. There was a glint in his eyes and an energy to him she could feel. An energy that was contagious.
    Taking the flowers, she headed into the kitchen for a vase with Tyler following her back.
    Still…“Qualification, Tyler. It’s
only this date.
Not the whole night.”
    She was reaching for a heavy handblown piece in the upper cabinet to the right of the sink, when Tyler edged past her, crowding her in, to bring it down.
    “Noted,” he said, close to her ear, the smile she couldn’t see distinct in his single word. “As much as you’re going to wish it was otherwise, we’re both on the same page. One date. One kiss.”
    In the tight space between Tyler and the counter she turned around, trying to ignore the heat of his body so close to hers, and how the simple act of tipping her head back to be able to see his face was doing crazy things to her belly. “And then we’re done.”
    Tyler let out a slow breath, meeting her eyes. “And then we’re friends.”
    Setting the heavy glass down on the counter beside her, he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “But until then…what do you say we make the most of this thing? Do it up right?”
    It sounded so good. Like exactly what she wanted. Needed. Only she couldn’t help but ask, “You sure about this?”
    Eyes crinkling around the corners, he’d winked. “Are