I frowned. “We’re off for four days. We’re not supposed to have to deal with this shit now. How do you want to handle it?”
“Just act normal. And be prepared to get your ass kicked at darts.”
I pulled a key card from my pocket and slipped it into Dec’s. “One game, then I’m out. You can meet me in the room.”
His expression softened. “What’s it like?”
“It’s nice. Top floor, great views.” I pointed at the bar. “Drinks are ready.”
He paid, then passed two beers to me and signaled for me to wait for him. “Let’s give them something to talk about. Something funny and harmless that has nothing to do with fake boyfriends.”
“Like what?”
“We’ll wing it. I’ll beat you at darts, you’ll get mad and storm off. I’ll hang back for ten minutes, then join you at the hotel.”
I set my hand on his hip and slid my thumb under his T-shirt when the need to touch him outweighed reason. “Okay, I’m trusting you not to do anything stupid.”
Dec rolled his eyes, gathered the rest of our drinks, and followed me to the dart board.
He set the drinks on the high table where most of our party had gathered, then picked up a dart. “What are we playing for? Money, alcohol, or…Truth or Dare?”
“Truth or Dare.” Justin gave me a high five. “Let’s play 301. We each start with three hundred and one points, we subtract points so that the team that gets to zero first wins. Winning team ‘Truth or Dares’ the hell out of the losing team…without suggesting anything that might get us arrested. Petra, T, and me against Dec, Bobby J, and…what’s your name?”
“Staci with an i,” the blonde said, untangling her arms from around Bobby J’s neck.
“Excellent. ‘Staci with an i,’ you’re up. Aim for the bullseye.”
She was nowhere close. Petra stepped up and nailed her dart on a triple ring.
Justin gave her a high five. “Looks like we go first. Do that again, partner.”
Petra did. Damn, this looked good already. I hit a double bull and a single bull, Justin got us doubles on the number twenty a few times, and Petra obviously played a lot in her spare time. The score was zero to one hundred and ten within fifteen minutes.
“Pay up time! Petra…”
She waved him off. “No, I’ll go last. I want to think of a good one.”
“Okay. Um…Bobby J, I dare you to take your shirt off and dance right here, right now.”
“Done.”
We laughed hysterically at his over-the-top moves, Staci especially. “I’ll do that too.”
“Oh, no, no! Keep your clothes on. I dare you to…um, take a selfie with the singer.” I pointed at the guitarist on the makeshift stage.
Justin, Dec, and I hung back, chuckling at their antics.
“I think we need to switch to shots. Someone’s going to take their clothes off soon, and we all know that won’t end well. Tequila or—” Justin pulled his cell from his pocket and grinned. “Gotta take this. Hey, babe.”
I glanced down at my watch. “I’m gonna head out. It was nice to see you again, Petra.”
“Wait. I didn’t get my ‘Truth or Dare’ moment. Don’t worry. It’s an easy one. I’ll let you choose.” Petra cast a cheery gaze between us before taking a healthy swig of her martini. “I dare you to kiss. Or…you can help me tell your fans the truth about your relationship.”
Dec widened his eyes. And me? I scanned the bar casually as if either option was no big deal. My heart was pounding, and there was more condensation on my palms than on my glass, but hey…no big deal. Our party had scattered or spread out. Johnny was gone, Justin was on the phone with Gray, Bobby J was chatting with the grizzly guitarist, and everyone else…not my problem.
“The truth?” Dec repeated.
“Yes. No one wants to lie to their fans. And they’re all so curious about you. So…what’s the truth? Are you just old friends, or are those little hints of a romance true?” When neither of us answered, she bit her bottom lip and set her hand on my arm. “I’m a little drunk, so I’ll warn ya…I’m going to break your story when we all get back to LA. I’m trying to help Charlie get the word out. If the goal is to move away from Gypsy Coma bad blood, this should do it. So…kiss or tell?”
Great. I drained the contents of my glass, then set it on the table. “I’ll let you two work that out. Later.”
“Where are you going?” Dec called as I headed for the exit.
I stopped to zip my leather jacket and heard Petra ask, “Is he mad? I didn’t mean to make him angry, but your fans are gonna want…”
I turned left down Sixth Street, weaving around a couple of drunks and stepping over broken bottles as I passed bar after bar, contemplating her question. Was I mad?