Night fell fast over Lakehaven.
The yacht's deck twinkled with strings of fairy lights, the air warm and thick with the scent of lake water and expensive whiskey. Most of the investors had either retired to their cabins or passed out in deck chairs, leaving behind a smaller, rowdier group of survivors — naturally including Aria and Ethan.
Which is how she found herself sitting cross-legged on a cushioned lounge chair, a glass of something suspiciously fruity in hand, as Ethan dropped down beside her.
"Alright," he said, grinning in a way that made her stomach flutter and brain scream in warning. "Let's make this interesting."
"Define interesting," Aria asked, arching a brow.
"Truth or Dare."
Around them, a few of the remaining guests perked up. Truth or Dare at twenty-nine on a yacht? Childish. Irresponsible. Exactly what she needed.
"I'm in," she said, because of course she was.
Ethan's grin widened. "Good girl."
Problem number one: Aria had a competitive streak.
Problem number two: Ethan Cole knew exactly how to exploit it.
The first few rounds were harmless.
One of the older investors admitted he'd once skinny-dipped at a company retreat. A marketing exec was dared to sing Celine Dion at full volume (and did so surprisingly well). Ethan chose dare and had to jump into the freezing lake, which he did without hesitation, emerging soaked and smug.
Aria had to admit — it was stupidly hot.
She was doomed.
Then it was her turn.
"Truth," she said, playing it safe.
Ethan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Alright, Lane. Be honest — what's the most ridiculous thing you've secretly wanted to do to me since we met?"
The group hollered.
Aria almost choked on her drink.
She glared at him. "You're a menace."
"Answer the question."
She considered lying.
Decided against it.
"Honestly?" she said, tilting her head. "I've fantasized about dumping a latte on your head during one of your smug CEO speeches."
The group laughed. Ethan looked personally betrayed.
"I'm offended."
"You should be."
"But also a little turned on."
She groaned. "You're impossible."
"You love it."
Unfortunately, she did.
The game went on, dares getting riskier, questions getting bolder.
Somewhere between a dare involving body shots (Ethan, naturally) and a round of embarrassing confessions, it was Aria's turn again.
"Dare," she said, emboldened by too much fruity alcohol and the way Ethan's damp hair clung to his forehead.
Ethan didn't hesitate. "Kiss the person in this group you'd most want to be stranded on a desert island with."
The group oooohed.
Aria's stomach dropped.
She scanned the group. Easy way out? Maybe pick one of the harmless marketing guys or the drunk investor who wouldn't remember by morning.
But then Ethan raised a brow, a silent dare in his eyes.
Damn him.
"Fine," she muttered.
And marched over to Ethan.
He smirked like he'd known it would happen all along.
Aria grabbed him by the collar, tugged him in, and kissed him.
Not a polite peck. Not a jokey, awkward one.
A real kiss.
One hand in his hair, one against his chest. His hands immediately landed on her waist, pulling her closer like he'd been waiting for permission.
Someone whistled.
Someone else dropped their drink.
When she finally pulled back, breathless and unsteady, Ethan looked wrecked.
"Desert island, huh?" he rasped.
"Yeah," she shot back. "Someone's gotta kill the spiders."
He laughed, low and delighted.
"Lane," he murmured, still holding her like he wasn't ready to let go. "You're gonna be the death of me."
And maybe, just maybe — she was okay with that.
Later, when the others had wandered off and the game fizzled out, Aria found herself alone with Ethan on the quiet, moonlit deck.
The lake was calm, reflecting stars like scattered glass.
She didn't know what possessed her to speak, but maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that for once, her heart didn't feel so guarded.
"Hey," she said softly. "Why me?"
He looked over. "What do you mean?"
"You could have anyone. Any investor's daughter. Lena. Some heiress. You could've ignored me this whole trip. But you didn't. Why?"
Ethan was quiet for a long moment.
Then he shrugged, a rare honesty breaking through his usual cocky mask.
"Because you don't take my crap," he said. "Because you call me out, and you make me laugh when I shouldn't, and because… when you're around, this whole ridiculous world feels a little less fake."
Aria's throat tightened.
"I wasn't looking for any of this," he added quietly. "But it found me anyway."
She swallowed hard. "Yeah. Same."
And for the first time, they didn't trade insults or smirks.
They just… sat.
Close enough to touch.
He reached out, brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"I'm screwed, aren't I?" he murmured.
Aria smiled. "Completely."
And somehow, it felt like the most honest moment of her life...