"No, you can't wash your toes!" Shon bellows as we all sit in various places around the living room.

We've moved all the food to the floor in the center of the room for easy access and are now playing 'Would You Rather' and 'Truth or Dare' at the same time. If you've never done this before, you should. It'll ruin your life. I swear.

I've currently got peanut butter oozing from my bloated mouth. I'm pretty sure Emma dared me to fill my mouth with the stuff just to keep me quiet. I tend to get a little excited in social environments. Now, I'm working on not laughing while Trevor goes through with his dare.

As a giggle splits past my lips, so does a peanut butter-tainted trail of drool. I try not to imagine what I look like right now, but I can't help it. I'm instantly in hysterics, brushing the back of my hand over my mouth to keep the contents inside.

"Napguuun," I mumble.

Nobody seems to really notice my dilemma though since they're all too enthralled by Trevor's lack of hesitancy as he leans over to lick Lightning's toes. Lightning, though clearly disgusted by the fact that a man is sucking on his feet, can't stop laughing. We've learned he's far more ticklish than he's ever let on before.

My eyes stay glued to the small hourglass that's ticking down Trevor's one minute of torture, but the sand seems to be draining far slower than it should be. He's got about thirty more seconds of licking to do but I'm not going to be able to keep my lips sealed for much longer.

"Napguuun!" I try to yell again, and Shon finally notices and nudges Seth in the ribs. I know I must look even more ridiculous than I first assumed because even he can't hold back his laughs. "Guys! Shtawp!" I groan.

Clearly, talking isn't helping the situation, because every time I open my mouth to speak, everyone just starts laughing harder. It doesn't take long for the whole room to notice my predicament. By now, I've got peanut butter and spit sliding over my chin. I'm a mess... a sticky laughing mess.

"Napguuun," I manage to say around a chuckle, and Shon finally catches on to my pleads.

"Napkin," she says, pointing at Lindsey who's sitting closest to them. Lindsey snatches up several and launches them at me. They flutter to an instant stop several feet away, and I nearly eject peanut spit all over everyone at the ridiculousness of my situation. I'm sure the sugar high I'm on isn't helping at all. Things are always funnier when you're not entirely in your right mind. Though not a single person here has had any alcohol, you'd never know it from our behavior. We're loose and relaxed. Very very relaxed.

Once I've cleaned myself up, it's back to being my turn again. I sit anxiously awaiting my doom, but I'm sure everyone can see the excitement tapping its way out of my fidgety fingers. I get far too excited about these kinds of games. The games that could humiliate a person for generations to come. I live for these embarrassing moments. Humiliation for the enjoyment of others brings me such happiness. And right now, I'm surprisingly happy—even with Seth sitting clear on the other side of the room. I'm okay with it, though. The few smiles he's sent my way have made up for the distance between us.

"Okay, Merciless," Lightning begins to say. "It's my turn to ruin your life." He picks up an invisible card from the table—even though we make up our own dares on the spot—and pretends to read it to himself before verbalizing it for the rest of us. "Okay, truth or dare?"

"Uh..." I ponder my options for a moment longer than necessary before answering. "Dare, duh."

Lightning laughs evilly, rubbing his hands together. "That's what I was hoping for." He scratches his head in thought. "Okay, would you rather have me cut your hair using my non-dominant hand, or reveal your deepest darkest secret?"

"That's not fair," I grumble. "You literally wove a truth into your dare."

"So," he says with a shrug. "There are no rules. So," he leans forward slightly and flutters his eyelashes, "I dare you to tell the truth about your deepest darkest secret, or you could just let me give you the most epic haircut." I watch his eyes drift upwards in thought. "I'm thinking I could cut layers into it in the shape of stairs. That'd be the freaking coolest thing ever. Your hair's straight enough that I think it'd really work." He's genuinely excited right now, and I can't keep myself from sharing just a teeny bit of that elation. Honestly, it would be a little fun, and I'm halfway tempted to let him hack away at my hair, but I know I'd regret it later.

"Okay, okay," I sigh dramatically, childishly sticking my tongue out before muttering a "fine."

"So," he begins to ask. "Which do you choose?"

"Well, considering my hair is far too lovely for chopping." I hear Emma snickering to my left and I shoot her an evil glare. "I'll go with option number two."

"Ooooh," he mutters, excitement gleaming from his eyes. "Yes, do share your darkest secret."

I just shrug my shoulders, feigning innocence. "I'm in love."

"Boo!..." comes a chorus of displeased voices from around the room.

Nobody's overly thrilled by my confession, since they all know I'm talking about Seth—and since I'm married to the guy, it's not really much of a confession—but there's one person who's even less pleased than the rest of them.

Seth.

His eyes find mine and he watches me with a hard intensity for several seconds before dropping his gaze to the floor. I thought he'd catch on and be thrilled by the fact that my feelings for him have not died, but maybe that's the problem. Maybe he was hoping they had.

He inhales deeply and I notice just how uncomfortable he looks. With a quick glance around the room, I watch his face change from perplexed to relaxed. A gentle smile lifts the corner of his mouth and his shoulders straighten, but something feels weird. His demeanor has shifted. With a lick of his lips, his eyes settle on mine, narrowing into a dull disinterest all while keeping his smile in place.

My heart sinks, and with it any desire to continue on with this game. I cover my insecurity with a smile of my own and focus my fumbling mind on another secret that will satisfy my eager friends. I'm not a very private person, to be honest. I do tend to keep things to myself for the most part, but if you're willing to pry, then I'm willing to share. If you want to know how I'm doing, all you have to do is ask and I promise to unload all my emotional luggage on you. Unfortunately, no one has asked how I'm doing in a very long time.

"Well," I say, clearing my throat to hide the aching that's begun to throb its way out of my heart. "I guess there is something you all don't know..." Eyes watch me ardently, waiting for me to blow their minds with something dark or embarrassing. Cruel ideas flutter through my mind...

My husband hates me...

He wants a divorce...

I'm miserable...

But I'm not that person. I'd never purposely humiliated someone for the sake of feeling temporary pleasure. No matter what Seth puts me through—whether he's aware of his actions or not—I refuse to stoop so low as to ruin someone else out of my own selfish bitterness. So instead, I suck up my heartbreak and stretch my lips into a smile.

"When I'm home alone," I begin to say, "I sometimes pretend that I'm the star in a horror movie. I literally tiptoe around the house and peek around corners. I even create my own imaginary boogeyman that I have to flee from."

I see Seth laughing at my confession and I'm glad to see that his momentary irritation has vanished.

"I take it you're a better actor in private than you are in real life?" Shon asks, a grin planted across her face. I can see she's teasing me, and because I can't deny the truth, I just shrug.

"Very much so," I tell her honestly.

I'd gladly soak up the attention all night, but for some reason, I'm just not feeling it right now. Eager to finish this game, I glance around until my eyes land on Lightning and I point at him. "Your turn."

"Yeppy," he grumbles jokingly, but I can see he shares my same passion for social activities because his crossed legs are bouncing in anticipation.

"Okay," I begin, tapping my chin in thought. "Truth or dare?"

"Wait," Mallory—his wife of four years—speaks up, her movements eager. "Please, let me have this one. I'm feeling evil tonight." She mimics Lightning's earlier actions and rubs her hands together eagerly.

"Oh, yes. Please do," I say with a smile, glad to sit back and enjoy someone else's humiliation for once.

"Alright, Theodore," Mallory begins.

"Oh, come on!" Lightning growls, dropping his head back in dramatic defeat. "Do you have to reveal my true identity to everyone we meet?"

"Yes," she answers him, her face serious. "Because your name is funny, and saying it makes me happy. Now, shut up."

Lightning just glances around at the rest of us, clearly looking for sympathy that no one is willing to give. None of us are doing a very good job at hiding our amusement. My laughter—though being smothered in a pillow—is definitely not going unnoticed.

"Okay, I dare you to—"

"Wait," Lightning interrupts. "You didn't give me an option between truth or dare."

"I know," Mallory says, lifting her eyebrows up at him as if to challenge him to question her actions further.

"Fine," he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dare."

"Oh, good choice," she says with a soft giggle. "Okay, Theodorant." I nearly choke on a laugh when I hear her nickname for Theo, but I quickly smother it behind my fist. "I dare you... to take off your shirt."

"No." His answer is immediate. "No, no, and no."

"Backing down on a dare, man?" Seth challenges, which only results in Lightning tilting his head and shooting angry glares at each individual person his eyes make contact with. And then he's standing and ripping his shirt off his body in one swift movement.

I'm nearly blinded. No joke. His powdery flesh is painful to look at. The only thing softening the blow of his brilliantly white flesh is the thick hair coating his chest. Who knew that this gangly little guy could hide something so shocking beneath his shirt? He's like the world's scrawniest lumberjack—though, I'm not sure why I associate chest hair with lumbar jacks.

What has the entire room in an uproar isn't so much the fur on this man's chest, but what's been done to it. Clearly, Mallory got bored one night and decided it'd be fun to braid it because there are rows of tiny chest hair braids coating the poor boy's chest.

It's freaking amazing. And, I'm not sure why, but somehow this work of body art makes him that much more adorable. How is that possible? Chest hair is never cute, but you add braids and put it on a pasty skinny goofball, and suddenly it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.

"That's awesome!" Lindsey hollers, scooting closer to investigate Lightning's chest. "How many are there?"

"Thirty-eight," Mallory answers proudly. She carries no shame in having wasted hours of her life braiding her husband's chest fur.

"Okay," I say, holding up my hands in surrender. "I'm gonna throw up. You guys are just too cute."

"You think this makes us cute?" Lightning questions, motioning to the artwork he's displaying.

"Oh, definitely," Lindsey answers for me. "I'm debating whether this should even count as a dare. I'd almost pay to see this."

"Well, pay up then," Lightning says, holding his hand out towards her and rubbing the tips of his fingers together in a give-me-da-money gesture.

Laughter bubbles throughout the room, and the games continue on through the night until exhaustion forces everyone into their cars and back to their hotels. I would have gladly let everyone crash here, but we literally don't own enough blankets and nobody wants to sleep on a bare wood floor.

Soon enough it's just Emma, Trevor, Seth, and me. We sit around chatting and catching up on each other's lives. My eyelids keep drooping shut, and I actually find myself being jostled awake every once in a while when someone else starts talking. I push myself upwards, telling the men—who appear still half alive as they chatter—that I'm heading to bed. Emma's already passed out on the couch, and I wouldn't move her even if I could.

Tonight is the night. Seth will actually be joining me in our bed, and truthfully, I've been nervous about this all day. But, I'm starting to wonder if he's prolonging his discussion with Trevor in the hopes that I'll fall asleep before he has to slide in next to me. Now, wouldn't that just be the worst thing imaginable? To get into bed with your wife! Oh, the horror!

Just to piss him off, I torture myself with youtube videos on my laptop until I hear the mumbled 'goodnights' of the two men. Finally! I quickly shut down my computer and lay it on the side table. I've just slid under the blankets when Seth enters the room.

I can sense him standing at the threshold for a moment before he quietly shuts the door. His feet stay planted on the other side of the room and I know he's debating how to crawl into bed without waking me up. Or, maybe he's considering just sleeping on the hard floor. Believe me, if that's the case, I might be tempted to throw a tantrum.

Finally, the shuffling of Seth's feet across wood can be heard and I listen as he pulls his shirt over his head. His pants are removed next and I find myself slightly surprised that he's convinced himself it's okay to get comfortable. I've watched him sleep in his sweatpants and t-shirts for months on the couch now. Behind the safety of our bedroom door maybe he feels more freedom to relax.

I warmth spreads through my chest and I have to make a conscious effort to keep my breathing smooth as he carefully gets beneath the covers. Once he's settled, the room goes quiet. Though my back is to him, I'm nearly positive he's lying flat on his back staring at the ceiling.

A sense of vicious courage begins to rumble to life in my chest, and without a second thought, I let it take control. He doesn't know I'm awake, and I plan to use that to my advantage. So, with bold movements, I simply roll over, draping my arm across his torso. I feel him stiffen beneath my touch, but I don't move. I hold my ground, knowing that if I move around too much he'll know I'm awake.

"Mercy?" he whispers softly into the room.

I'm quite proud of myself really because I manage to control my breathing in a way that makes it sound as if I'm really asleep. I'm far more relaxed than I imagined I'd be in this situation, and for once, I feel as though my body isn't against me.

When I don't respond, Seth's muscles unwind and I feel him loosen beneath my arm. I must have pulled it off. He actually thinks I'm asleep. My head is still rested on my own pillow, and to most normal couples, we actually have quite a bit of space between us, but I swear the arm that's draped over Seth is on fire. My skin is a furnace anywhere it touches his. I wonder if he feels the heat.

I'm just dozing off when a slight movement nearly has me jerking in surprise. It's Seth's hand. It's no longer laying loosely next to his body. I even peek an eye open to verify what I think I'm feeling.

I watch in stunned fascination as his thumb glides over my forearm until it comes to rest on the back of my hand. With careful movements, I watch him turn my hand over to graze his fingers along my palm.

My body is instantly awake. Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind as I watch my husband caress my arm with more passion than I've seen in months. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he's truly enjoying the feel of my skin on his own.

And just then, as if to prove my point, he slides his fingers between my own and brings our clasped hands to his lips, gently kissing my thumb, before slowly resting them back on his chest. My body is in flames. Desires are swirling from my toes to my fingertips. Even my scalp is prickly with awareness, and yet, I don't move. I don't dare break this precious spell that has settled over us.

And as sleep carefully beckons me, I drift off with the sensation of Seth's erratic heartbeat beneath our embracing hands.