"Nah, it's going to be fun!" she exclaimed.
We ordered a line of shots and set them in front of us on the table.
"Okay, I'll go first. Never have I ever..." She looked at me, a devious smile spreading across her lips, before she said, "Shaved my balls."
I nearly choked on my own tongue, as laughter rolled out of me. I gave her a hard stare and took my first shot.
"I knew it!" she said proudly. "It was either that, or you were sneaking away for ritual waxing sessions. I didn't want to have to go kill a bitch for touching your junk. Thank you by the way. My girlie bits really appreciate the effort," she said with a wink.
I shook my head, laughing, before firing off my question. "Never have I ever...laughed so hard that I peed my pants."
It was cruel, but she had just called me out on my manscaping in the middle of a bar, so I figured she deserved some payback. I already knew the answer to the question, having heard her and Clare laughing and reminiscing one night over a bottle of rum.
She gave me a look and took her shot. "That's so not fair. I'm pretty sure guys can't even do that."
"I wouldn't know since I can hold my bladder," I teased.
"It was college, and I was drunk!" she said defensively.
I nearly fell out of my chair, laughing. "Maybe we should cut you off then!"
"Oh, I have one! Never have I ever been arrested," she said with a cocky grin.
I took a moment, letting her sweat it out, before grabbing the shot and letting it burn down my throat. She stood and did a little dance of triumph, squealing, before sitting down.
"Every bad boy has to have a back story, so spill it, Hotshot."
"It was only once —disorderly conduct at a party. I was in high school, and my dad got me out without much fuss. It was all very uneventful. But it did make me quite popular for a few weeks." I grinned. "Does it make me sexier, Leah?"
"Well, it would have been hotter if it were a bar brawl or something, but it will do."
I shook my head, chuckling. "I'll try harder next time. Okay, my turn. Never have I ever experimented with someone of the same sex."
She hesitated for a second before saying, "It was only once," and then she downed the shot.
"Holy shit...I want details. Now."
"College. Clare and I had a third roommate our sophomore year, and one night, when we got a little too drunk, we...well —"
"What? You, what?" I asked, hanging on every word.
"Oh my God, Declan, I'm f**king with you." She laughed. "It was worth the shot though."
"You're going to pay for that one," I promised.
"Can't wait, Hotshot. My turn," she said.
"Nope. I get to go again because you cheated."
"Okay, fair enough. Go ahead."
"Never have I ever...TP'd a house."
She quickly took her shot and then said, "Seriously? They didn't TP houses in your uppity neighborhood?"
"Nope."
"Well, shit. I just figured out what we are doing for the Leah part of the evening!"
~Leah~
The cashier at the twenty-four-hour grocery store gave us quite a look when we checked out with two entire carts filled with toilet paper and nothing else. We tried not to laugh, but I was sure she suspected our devious plans. She didn't say a thing though as she quietly rang up our purchase.
We wheeled our two carts to the limo and loaded the back. The limo driver never said a word. He just opened the trunk, and when that was packed full, he helped us throw packs of toilet paper in the backseat with us. I hoped Declan would tip him well for putting up with our drunken madness. We sat in the back amidst the piles of toilet paper as I gave the directions to our victim's house. We spent the car ride unwrapping each roll, so they would be ready to go. We made sure the driver parked across the street before we pulled up near the house. No lights were on, and no cars were parked in the front, making me think the owners were out enjoying the night's festivities.
"Whose house are we at anyway?" Declan asked as we finished unwrapping the toilet paper.
The floor of the once pristine limo was now covered in plastic wrappers and pretty white rolls of toilet paper. Classy.
"My ex-boyfriend, Daniel. This is the house he bought with his wife, the woman he started dating a week after he left me. I've always wanted to do something really juvenile to him for walking out when Ethan got sick, so this is the perfect opportunity."
"Do you want me to just punch him instead? Because I'd be really happy to do that. We could just save the toilet paper. I'm sure we could stockpile it in the event of a nuclear war."
"No, this will be way more fun. Besides, if he hadn't left me, I'd probably be out somewhere with him, listening to his boring stories about his job or what he did at the gym. He did me a favor," I said.
"That might be true, but I'd still like to kick his ass," he agreed before bending his head to place a tender kiss on my lips. "Well, why don't you come help me cover his house in ass paper instead?" I whispered.
"Gladly."
We quietly exited the limo, making sure to close the door as softly as possible. The driver, Max, actually volunteered to help us. He was a pretty cool guy. He was in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a Harley Davidson attitude that didn't quite match the suit attire he was wearing for the evening. We thanked him but declined, not wanting him to lose his job if we got caught.
Daniel and his wife, Mindy, might not be home, but that didn't mean their neighbors weren't. I zipped up my jacket, trying to ward off the cold and cover up the white tank I had on underneath. Luckily, we had both worn dark clothing, so we faded into the night fairly easily. January was cold on the East Coast, and New Year's Eve was no exception. I could see my breath puffing out in front of me as we made our way across the street, our arms loaded with rolls of fluffy white toilet paper. The frosted grass crunched under our steps.
"So, is this a crime? Could we get tossed into jail for this?" Declan asked quietly.
"Mmm, I don't know," I whispered back.
"That would be an interesting headline —Hollywood Actor Arrested for Vandalism. Weapon of Choice? Toilet Paper."
When we got to the middle of Daniel's front yard, we dumped our load, and I started giving directions. "Okay, let's do the trees first. You need to give yourself a bit of a lead, pull some out...there you go...and then chuck the roll over the limb."
We both hurled our rolls over the tree branches and watched them land on the other side. Giving each other goofy grins, we raced to the other side and grabbed our rolls to repeat the process. In a matter of minutes, we had the trees covered in white. It was the worst re-creation of a white Christmas ever.