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Truth or DareA Sweet Romantic Comedy Collection

Laura Burton

Contents

What I Donโ€™t Like About You

1. Debbie

2. Mark

3. Debbie

4. Mark

5. Debbie

6. Mark

7. Debbie

8. Mark

Epilogue

Dare Number One: Kiss Me Like You Mean It

1. Holly

2. Cameron

3. Holly

4. Cameron

5. Holly

6. Cameron

7. Holly

8. Cameron

9. Holly

Epilogue

Dare Number Two: Donโ€™t Fall in Love

1. Michelle

2. Jonah

3. Michelle

4. Jonah

5. Michelle

6. Jonah

7. Michelle

8. Jonah

9. Michelle

Epilogue

Dare Number Three: Pretend to be Mine

1. Katia

2. Ryder

3. Katia

4. Ryder

5. Katia

6. Ryder

7. Katia

8. Ryder

9. Katia

Epilogue

A Note From the Author

The characters and storylines are fictitious, and any resemblance to real-life people and events are purely coincidental. The author retains all of the rights to this work which may not be copied and distributed online or elsewhere without the written permission of the owner of the rights.

All rights reserved by Laura Burton 2020.

First Edition

Published by: Burton & Burchell Ltd

Please contact the rights holder for translation and audio rights to this book at [email protected]

This book is written in U.S. English

Edited by: Tochi Biko

Cover Design: Sweet Heart Books

Created with Vellum

What I Donโ€™t Like About You

Debbie and Markโ€™s story

Debbie

Note to self: consuming excessive amounts of sugar is just as bad as drinking too much alcohol. This is why I donโ€™t go to parties. Everyone knows Iโ€™m much happier at my tiny apartment in upstate New York, curled up with a snuggly blanket, breaking the spine of a new book and tearing through the pages like a literary monster.

In fact, right now Iโ€™d rather be at my local DIY store looking at thirty-two different shades of white than sit in Michelleโ€™s living room with all of these people.

I donโ€™t mean to be a Debbie-downer. Though, my name actually is Debbie. But parties make me uncomfortable. Especially in a suburban home in New Jersey. With twitchy neighbors and uptight locals with the cops on speed dial.

Besides, parties often involve too many people, deafening music blasting my ear drums, and nothing but junk food in sight.

So, what do I do? I down sugar shots like Iโ€™m twelve years old because I do not drink, and the sugar rush has me bouncing off the walls.

โ€œDebbie Brown. Itโ€™s my twenty-first birthday, and youโ€™re my best friend. You have to come to my party,โ€ Michelle said, giving me her puppy-dog eyes. Michelle and I have been friends since we were in diapers. In fact, as I look around the cramped living room at the sea of faces, I realize there isnโ€™t a soul in this house who isnโ€™t a close friend.

Cameron and Jonah have been part of the group since our first year in college when Michelle made me join the Glee Club. Holly and Katia have been our roommates since our second year. And then thereโ€™s Ryder. He looks as awkward and disgruntled as I feel.

But now the sugar is rushing to my head and my brain is full of bees.

โ€œWhere are you going?โ€ Michelle asks, her big round eyes fixed on me as I rise to my feet.

โ€œIโ€™m going to use the bathroom. Is that okay with you?โ€ I ask, sticking my brows up and giving her some sass. Michelle rolls her eyes and nods.

They wonโ€™t miss me, I figure, as I stroll down the narrow hall and consider making a break for it. Itโ€™s getting late, and before long Cameron will be over-tired and suggest a game of charades. Holly will go along with it because she worships the ground he walks on. And Katia will act cool and aloof but secretly plan to kick everyoneโ€™s butts and win the game 10-1. Jonah will shamelessly flirt with Michelle all evening, and Ryder will make sarcastic comments from the corner while tapping away on his laptop.

I could totally sneak out the back door and make it home before anyone notices. The idea is tempting. All I have to do is text Michelle; tell her Iโ€™m sick, and that I have to go to bed. Which is kind of true, because Iโ€™m sick of these lame parties.

I march to the back door and reach for it just as a face pops up to the glass. The sight of it makes me shriek so loud, a stampede of footsteps rushes towards me.

โ€œWhat is it?โ€ Holly cries, as the kitchen becomes crowded. I clamp my teeth together as the door swings open and the last person I want to bump into towers over me.

Perfect. Just when I think this night canโ€™t get any more awkward. Heโ€™s here.

โ€œHey there Debbie. Did my manly muscles scare you? Sorry about that.โ€ His casual smirk tells me heโ€™s anything but sorry.

Typical Mark.

The room relaxes as everyone realizes Iโ€™m not being attacked.

โ€œYouโ€™re just in time, come on in and grab a drink,โ€ Michelle says as she bounces on the balls of her feet and her eyes glint at me.

Oh no. Sheโ€™s giving me that look. The one that tells me sheโ€™s going to force me to do something I will absolutely regret in the morning.

Like the time she convinced me that climbing into her neighborโ€™s hot tub was a good idea. She had promised me they were on vacation, and I guess that was true. But what she didnโ€™t know was their elderly parents were housesitting. We gave them the shock of their lives at 3am, when all of the liquor Michelle had had took over and she started singing We Are the Champions with all of the strength in her lungs.

Everyone files back into the living room and I follow, chewing my lip and swallowing the groan in my throat.

Mark settles on the couch, resting his ankle over his left knee and reclining back like heโ€™s the most chilled-out person in the room. Actually, he probably is. And yet, just the sight of him so confident and comfortable gets under my skin.

โ€œWhoโ€™s ready for a game?โ€ Michelle asks. Everyone settles in their seats, except for Ryder who remains at the dining table with his laptop. His laser focus on the screen

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