But the show comes on, and I’m handed a bowl of jiggling orange squares before Colter stomps over to a chair beneath the window, carrying his own bowl of bright-red cubes.
Kylian turns up the volume and says, “Our mate gets to pick which category she wants.”
“Category?”
Ridge takes over the explanation. “We are each in charge of a category. Kind of like reading a card in that game Apples to Apples where you pick a winner. Well, when your category gets picked and the TV host reads the clue, everyone shouts their wrong answer. Then you get to decide which answer you like best. Just like Apples to Apples. And then…”
He launches a yellow cube into the air. Kylian swoops forward and catches it with his mouth.
“Toss a cube to the winner,” Ridge finishes.
“Ta-da!” the wild alpha exclaims before gulping down the treat.
I have to catch it with my mouth?
“I have reservations—” I declare, but I’m cut off.
“We’ve got you. Don’t worry.” Ridge reaches down and gives my forearm a small, reassuring squeeze. “Now, pick your category, Princess.”
Turning back to the TV, a tiny smile on my face, I watch the category blocks get announced. The very first one makes me cringe.Science Class.
“Not it,” I state.
The guys chuckle, and Luka says, “Fine, I’ll take that one.”
Next up is sports.
They all look expectantly at me.
I vehemently shake my head.
“Wouldn’t be able to tell a good answer from a bad one,” I tell them truthfully.
Not without Teddie in my ear, anyway,I think.
My heart gives a twinge, but I shove the discomfort away, reminding myself that he’s probably just on his way back from the safe house.
Finally, a decent category is announced.I Scream.
“Mine!”
Luka chuckles and asks, “Do you like horror movies?”
“Ummm…” I shrug. “Better than sports.”
They all laugh then and keep claiming categories until we’ve each got one. There’s an extra category left,Before and After, which no one takes.
But then the real fun begins. On screen, the contestant picksScience Classfor two hundred. In our room, we all listen to the answer.
“This type of fault is formed by compression, when the hanging wall moves up over the footwall.”
I press my lips together, expectation bouncing in my chest as I wait to see how the guys play.
“My fault!” Kylian shouts, shooting to his feet.
At the same time, Colter yells, “Kylian’s fault.”
Boom.
