Truth or Tequila

One night. One game. One bad idea in the form of top-shelf tequila. When my college besties and I made a pact to play Truth or Tequila at each of our bachelorette parties, I knew I'd regret it eventually-and it seems like tonight's that night. I should be at home studying media reports and memorizing baseball jargon for my early morning meeting, not in a bar making questionable decisions. But then he walks in. Tall. Lean. Muscles packed into a tight white tee like it was stitched directly o...