awkward quickly.
Brody shakes his head at the idea. “I can’t get behind this.”
“Oh hush, you.” Raven lands the bottle dead center and proceeds to spin it, and we watch mesmerized as it transports us all back to seventh grade. Only in seventh grade, we were savvy enough to understand you needed two circles and two bottles. Come to think of it, this might be more entertaining than previously anticipated. It lands on Brody, and Raven gives it another spin. Round and round it goes until I’m tempted to pick it up and bash Raven over the head for ever coming up with such a stupid idea. The bottle finally slows and lands on her.
“Well, Tater Tot?” Brody offers an ear-to-ear grin.
Tater Tot. It’s all I can do not to gag on site. I’m betting that was some adorable nickname she earned once upon a rosy childhood after stuffing her potato hole with the deep-fried tots and barfing them all over his shoes. My version does have a certain flare about it.
“Not on your life, Animal.”
Animal? I snarl at her for the lack of imagination. I get it though. Brody Wolf—thus animal.
She spins the bottle again, and it lands on Chip then Mer. Thank goodness. The last thing I want or need is sibling rivalry rearing its ugly head and wrestling moves on my silk rug. They lean in and do the lip-lock nasty, and I keep an extra eye on Levi through the entire event, but he doesn’t even flinch. So it’s not bad enough they’ve canoodled behind closed doors and procured an heir from their infidelity—they now do it right here in the open, defiling my innocent rug with their lack of social decorum. Idiots.
The bottle spins and spins and Levi kisses Low. It didn’t quite land on Low, but Raven’s big toe helped a bit. And bare feet on my pretty Nannette? I don’t care how cute your bright pink painted talons look. I don’t want or need your sweat on my pet. Speaking of pets. Strudel has nestled himself under Axel’s knee. I knew I couldn’t trust his alliance.
Finally, the bottle lands on me. “Action at last.” I cock my head to Axel because I’m secretly hoping it’ll land on Levi. The two of us hit it hot and heavy a few weeks back after I accosted him at the bar. It was all a ruse, of course, as I tried to convince Raven that Levi was my man. And, of course, after that, it was a heavily contested point between Low and me whether or not Levi gifted me some tongue. He didn’t, but I needed to get a rise out of her for putting me in that ridiculous situation to begin with. There’s nothing like driving someone insane over a well-contested fact. I still refer to Levi as The Frencher to this day whenever Low is around.
The bottle lands on Chip then nods and bobs until barely cresting its way into Collins’ territory. Crap.
“Ha!” I balk at the idea. “As if that’s about to happen. I wouldn’t even let you kiss my dog.”
Axel’s lips curl at the tips in that obnoxious way they tend to do when he thinks he has the upper hand. His fingers curl around Strudel’s ear, and my goofy pooch proceeds to lick him over the back of his hand.
My mouth falls open at the sight. Damn traitor. Twice in one night!
Raven snaps up the bottle. “All right, girly, let’s have it. The two of you need to pucker up so we can move this show along.”
“Move it along.” I shoot a barbed look her way. “Move it or I’ll arrange to have those long raven locks chopped off at the ears when you’re passed out drunk on my couch later.”
Mer gasps. “My God, you’re a monster.”
I cut my eyes her way. “Isn’t that the wandering wife calling the kettle a beast in her own home?”
“All right, ladies.” Raven dares to tap me with her prehensile toes. “Keep it clean. Lex, if you’re not going to kiss him, he gets to ask you a question and you have to answer it no matter what.”
“Of course, I do,” I muse. “Who am I to protest the sacred rules of middle school games.” I channel all of my rage over at Axel and those pale gray eyes that keep vying for my attention like some annoying siren. Yes, Axel is drop-dead gorgeous. Yes, my pink parts have morphed into the wild rivers since