Page 68 of Thin Ice

“Never thought I’d have homework again.” Noah sighs as he flops down on the bed next to me.

We’re still wearing our clothes from today, our bellies full from dinner and our skin slightly pink from being outside all day doing various exercises with Beck and our group. One of them was different tantric positions Hazel taught all of us—with our clothes on, of course.

At first, it was awkward, but eventually, I decided I couldn’t wait to try some with Noah…and maybe Beck.

I clear my throat before my mind can fall into the gutter right now.

“Me, either,” I answer. “But this is a different kind of homework.”

He chuckles. “Could you imagine if one of our professors paired us off and asked us to play a game of Truth or Dare?”

I laugh and roll over onto my side to look at him, and Noah follows suit. “Do you want to go first?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says. “Dare.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you’d start with a dare.”

He wiggles his eyebrows playfully, and I can’t be truly angry at him. I like that he’s acting this way. I can’t remember the last time we played a game together that had nothing to do with a puck—or even flirted, for that matter.

“What have you got for me, Sunshine?”

“I dare you to take your shirt off.”

“Really?”

“What? You look a little hot, so I thought I’d help you out.”

He laughs. “How nice of you.”

Noah sits up and does the sexy thing where he takes his shirt off by grabbing at the back near his neck and pulling it over his head in one fell swoop.

I’m giddy at the sight of his naked chest, visions of the sweaty version of it pressing against me as we dry humped each other last night coming to mind.

Noah laughs again, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“What?” I ask.

“I love that you still get excited looking at me. It’s sexy.”

I stretch out to tweak his nipple. He grabs my hand before I can and playfully nips at my fingers.

“Truth or Dare?” he asks.

“Dare.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I thought for sure you’d say truth.”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Ashcroft.”

He grins. “Okay, then: I dare you to take off your shirt.”

“So original,” I tease.

“Just evening the playing field. And…I like staring at your tits.”

I swat his arm but do as he says, sitting up to remove the simple pink T-shirt I’d thrown on this morning, chucking it to the floor. He pouts when I don’t remove the bra I’m wearing as well.

“You said nothing about removing it,” I chirp.