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“Next question. If you asked your husband what color lingerie you should wear, what would he choose?”
This game is gross.
Why aren’t there any questions asking the wives what color dish gloves their husbands should wear?
“Everyone in this room is going to be picturing us in lingerie now,” I whisper to Avery, who makes no effort to entertain my humor. A game face is ironed on her features.
“We only have ten seconds. Hush.”
Right.
I write purple because it’s the color panties he ripped off me the night I tied him up on the London balcony.
The timer sounds; another correct answer. Nico flashes me his signature grin.
The fire pits by the stage must be causing the sweat to trickle down the back of my neck.
“Where was the wildest place you two did the deed?” The host scrunches his face into an exaggerated wink as members of the audience gasp and murmur.
Luca stretches his neck to look over at Nico. “Your board better stay blank.”
Nico waves him off and returns to his writing.
“Luca,focus.” Avery attempts to kick her husband with her foot, but he’s sitting out of reach. Part of me wants to write every place down just to get a big rise out of Luca.
The hammocks, the beach, the outdoor shower, the indoor shower, the first class seats, the balcony, the museum in Amsterdam.
I scramble to write something. The timer goes off. We reveal our answers.
Three points for Nico and me.
Avery glances over at our boards. “The museum?”
“What museum?” Luca’s eyes are wide, his own board blank.
“A paddleboat?” I catch Avery’s board, and we laugh hard enough to rock our bamboo chairs against each other.
“Thought you guys didn’t have sex.” Luca’s nostrils flare, sweat dripping off his face.
“Wild coincidence.” Nico shrugs, biting back a smirk.
For the next three rounds, each of us scores a point. Avery grows more frustrated that we’re an entire point ahead as if losing this silly game is the end of the world. The flaring of her nostrils finally cools when Nico and I get a question wrong.
What’s your husband’s favorite color?I randomly wrote down blue because it’s the color of the Flight Falcon logo, and I didn’t really have anything else to go off. Nico’s answer was green.
“Really?” I whisper. “Green?”
“Your eyes.”
He says it so casually, but my heart is nearly about to explode.
Only the four of us remain on the stage as the host makes an elaborate display of walking around us like we’re circus animals. “Time for the tie-breaking kiss. Which of these couples has the best lip work?”
Ew.
“You aren’t doing that.” Luca reaches over and nudges Nico’s arm, and my fingers curl loosely in my palm. This game of scolding is getting a bit excessive for my liking.
“Relax.” I glare at Luca.
