Truth or Dare

Life as a romance novelist was quite fulfilling. I could sit and create men who would never leave, never hurt, and if they did, they would be forgiven or would come back. The men I created were perfect; no physical flaws, perfect bodies, hair, face, and usually a womanizer turned family man. It would always end with a happily ever after.

In my experiences with men, they tended to be exactly the opposite of the men in my novels. But then again, the novels weren't real. I could wish they were and end up as one of those psychotic writers in an insane asylum, muttering about men with the face of Adonis, but that fate was dreary and unappealing.

My newest novel, His Exception, was going to hit the bookstores tomorrow and I was nervous and excited. Of course, being an erotic romance novelist was not something that I would take credit for and so I remained anonymous using a pseudonym to hide my identity. Not that there was anything wrong about being an erotica author, but I was shy enough and if someone I randomly met on the street knew that I, Isabella Swan, was their favorite erotica author, I would be rendered catatonic.

To celebrate the sale of His Exception, my best friend and former roommate, Alice Whitlock and her husband, Jasper, were taking me out to our favorite bar for a party. According to party planner Alice, it was going to be a blast. Her definition of a blast was a polar opposite to mine.

I pulled on my black skinny jeans and my favorite red fuzzy sweater with my black Uggs. I applied some mascara and eye shadow, careful to match so that the lecture from Alice would be short. She constantly told me how my fashion sense was like that of a three year old's. I really didn't care whether or not I matched since I had given up trying to impress men a long time ago.

I heard a knock at the door and ran to get it, still munching on my bowl of peppermint ice cream that only came out in November and December. I opened to door to find Alice bouncing impatiently on my front steps, her breath forming white clouds in front of her face. The winters in Seattle, Washington were brutal, but Alice still managed to dress impeccably despite the weather.

A long Burberry red pea coat matched with a Hermes gossamer white scarf and the tightest pair of skinny jeans I had ever seen on a woman tucked into Jimmy Choo black heeled boots. Her pixie cut allowed for her hair to bounce around in brunette slivers around her face and her eyeliner and eye shadow were not even slightly smudged. In short, she could have walked off the runway of any major fashion label.

"Hi! Hurry up, Jasper has the heater on in the car and I promised him we would be there in time for him to catch the end of happy hour. You know Southern men and their Jack Daniel's whiskey." She rolled her eyes, causing me to laugh at her tone. She loved her husband despite his single-minded focus on whiskey during the happy hour at Joe's.

I saw her take in my sweater and boots and tsked. "Bella, Bella, when will you ever learn that I will never let you out of the house looking like that? And you claim to love me."

As she ushered me into the foyer, I noticed for the first time the St. John's Bay bag she was holding. I grimaced. "Alice! We don't have time for this. You were the one who said we had to be there on time. Jasper won't be happy if he misses his happy hour..."

I could see the smile slowly take over her face. "He was quite angry last time I made him miss his whiskey, but he also was able to focus on other things..."

I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure out what other things, and that was when it hit me. God, I should know these things being an erotica author, but I have never learned. "Alice! I don't want to hear about your and Jasper's sex life! He's my friend!"

She just laughed. Evil little pixie.

I pulled off my fuzzy sweater- I'll admit that I lovingly stroked it before putting it on the bed- and took the slinky top she handed to me layering it was a wonderful blazer and slipping off my comfortable Uggs to put on a pair of boots similar to those Alice was wearing.

She looked me over and pulled off her scarf to tie it around my neck. "Okay. Ready to go? I got a special surprise for you," she giggled while wiggling her eyebrows.

She pranced out the door, pulling me with her and shoved me in the car in tune to Jasper's laughter. "Wait till she gets angry with you one day and rearranges your whole wardrobe while you're at work!" I sneered at Jasper. He quickly shut up, realizing that with Alice, that was a distinct possibility.

Joe's bar was a safe haven where practically everyone across the spectrum of life came to hang out. Jasper parked the brand new BMW and took a hold of Alice's hand, eliciting a slight cringe of jealousy in me. I pushed open the door and all of a sudden the lights flickered and everyone that was in the bar jumped up and screamed congratulations.

So this was Alice's definition of a blast. Drinks were flowing and food was everywhere and people were generally having a good time. I was drunk as a skunk and beyond the legal limit so I was thankful that Jasper was our designated driver.

And that was when I saw him.