"Go for it…" Amy growled, itching to claw her way back.
"What color's your underwear?" Anirudh slid closer, eyes flicking to her neckline. From this angle, he caught a glimpse of her bra's edge—purple-black, just like she'd said!
"Black, lace…" Amy fired back, no hesitation, then snapped, "Again…" Before he could blink, she snatched the dice, gave them a fierce shake, and slammed the cup down with a sharp thwack.
Anirudh smirked, mind painting a picture of her black lace panties. He grabbed his cup, rattled it quick, and dropped it with a solid thump.
This round, he beat her to the punch, flipping his cup first: three fours, one two, two ones—sixteen measly points. His face crumpled like he'd lost a bet.
Amy's grin sparkled with vengeance. Time to bury you…
With a slick whoosh, she unveiled hers. Four twos, one three, one one—twelve points. She froze, brain short-circuiting. How the hell?
No clue her solid roll got scrambled by Anirudh's sneaky last shake.
"Hah! Amy, your luck's straight garbage today—three losses in a row! Drink up, then pick: truth or dare…" Anirudh cackled, snagging the bottle to pour her a brimming glass.
"Ask away…" Amy shot him a death stare, grabbed the glass, and downed it like a champ.
He'd already wormed out her bra and panty colors—what was left to spill?
"When'd you first get laid?" Anirudh grinned, all sly and sleazy.
Amy's eyes rolled so hard they nearly popped. This little creep—what was with these questions?
"Never have…" she said flat-out, sucking in a breath to brace for the next throwdown.
A virgin? Anirudh's eyes flared like he'd struck gold.
Amy ignored his glee, gripped the cup, and shook it again, this time chilling out to focus.
Anirudh chuckled, giving his cup a lazy jiggle. Results? Amy scraped together twenty-one points; Anirudh somehow conjured thirty-one!
His insane streak had Amy ready to flip the table. Was this punk legit lucky, or playing her like a fiddle? Four straight losses—she hadn't sniffed a win!
"What else you digging for? Ask…" Amy choked down her rage and barked.
"You into me, Amy?" Anirudh leaned in, flashing that cheeky grin.
Amy stalled, blindsided by his ballsy move. She wanted to snap no, but he piped up, "Truth only!"
She glared, lasers in her eyes.
Truth? Did she like him? That face—prettier than half the heartthrobs on TV—saying she felt nothing would be a flat lie. But admit it? They'd just met!
"Yeah…" she spat through gritted teeth.
"Heh, same here, Amy. Walked in, saw you first—bam, hooked by how hot you are…" Anirudh slid closer, laying on the charm thick. Total BS—he'd been drooling over Aurora then, barely clocking Amy.
"For real?" Amy blinked, caught off guard and secretly buzzing.
In this crew, Eleanor and Rosalind were Chicago's untouchable duo—beauty on lock. Aurora's ripe vibe had guys tripping over themselves. Laila, younger by a bit, oozed that cool mystique men couldn't resist. Even Estella's baby face and killer rack stole the spotlight.
Solo, Amy turned heads. Next to them, she was wallpaper. Tight squad or not—one being her sister—every girl sized up the competition, and Amy wasn't immune.
Anirudh's line hit her like a warm shot of whiskey!
"Swear it…" he murmured in her ear, all solemn-like.
"You little punk, smooth as hell. Let's roll again…" His vibe had her grinning.
"More?" Anirudh flinched.
"What? Chickening out? Scared you'll lose?" Amy taunted with a smirk.
"Nah, nah—just, five losses means dare time. If I win again and say strip dance, you in?" Anirudh asked, faking worry.
"You keep winning, I'll dance. No sweat…" Four losses deep, Amy was a gambler gone rogue, sneering. No way she'd lose again—she couldn't.
"Alright…" Anirudh sighed as Amy went full psycho on the dice, slamming it down like a gavel.
"You're dead…" A wicked grin twisted her face.
"That sure?" Anirudh cocked a brow.
"Hell yeah…" Amy smirked, flipping her cup. Six sixes, lined up like soldiers.
"Damn—sixes! Fine, I'm out—ask…" Anirudh gawked, floored.
"Nope, you haven't rolled. Don't cry cheap shot later…" Amy wouldn't budge.
"Nothing's topping that…" Anirudh groaned, mentally scoffing. Sixes, and you're playing fair cop? Gimme a break!
"Says who? Six ones beats it…" Amy grinned, cocky as hell.
"Six ones? Fat chance—wait, what? Six ones?!" Anirudh whined, giving a half-assed shake. He lifted the cup—six red ones stared back.
Amy's brain flatlined. This kid couldn't be that bad at dice, right?
"Heh, Amy, dare time. You promised—any request, you're game…" Anirudh's grin turned devilish.
Amy shrank back, eyes pleading. "You're not seriously making me strip dance, are you?"
"Pfft, I'm too into you to put you on blast like that. I just want you to…"