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“I want to get off this island and see the world.” William leaned back, cradling his drink at his belly.
“Why haven’t you already?”
“Too many responsibilities… and parents who won’t let me out of their sight.”
The paper on the table twitched violently and turned a deep shade of red.
“What does that mean?” William leaned forward.
“Maybe we’re not supposed to talk about our families. In case we guess who each other are.”
The anonymity aspect was a big part of this whole charade. If we guessed who each other was, we would have ruined the process.
Without us having to touch the paper, it returned to its original colour, and more words appeared.
“Question two: What’s the most devious thing you have ever done?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” I nearly snorted wine out of my nose as I took a sip. “My cousin ate all the chocolate in my Yule basket one year, so I put a fake tarantula in her bed. She thought it was my real pet tarantula and freaked out.”
“Pet tarantula? Really?” William’s knuckles whitened around his glass.
“I love bugs,” I said with a shrug. “Are you afraid of spiders?”
“…a little.”
That was a yes.
“Mine is very sweet. She won’t eat you.”
William chuckled but had to clear his throat halfway through.
“Anyway, what’s yours?” I asked.
“Uh…” He tapped his glass with his forefinger for a moment. “When I was little, I swapped out my mum’s night cream for whipped cream. Took her half a tub to realise.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from spitting the wine out. Instead, it spurted into my palm and dribbled down my chin.
My cheeks flushed as I put down my glass and reached for my clutch.
William laughed and reached toward me as I struggled to open it one-handed.
“Need some help there?” he asked.
I nodded, my mouth still full of wine I couldn’t swallow.
William snapped open my clutch, and I snatched up a tissue from inside.
I cringed so hard as I tidied up my face and hand, swallowing the wine in one painful gulp. At least it hadn’t come out of my nose.
“Better?” he asked, handing me another tissue, which I took even though I didn’t need it.
“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen?” I asked, before coughing into the tissue.
“Pretend what didn’t happen?”
I shot him a grateful smile, and the paper spawned yet more words. Perfect timing.
“Question three: What’s your most devious sexual desire?”
