Page 172 of A Little Complicated

“Read the question one more time,” Finley suggests.

Dylan clears her throat. “The question is:What would Dylan find disturbing and oddly charming?”

“And the options?” Reeves pushes, mumbling his words around the marker cap still pinched between his teeth.

She flips through the cards and shows one to the table. “Men.” I snort, and she picks another card up. “Everett’s personality.” Everett chuckles and lifts his chin in acknowledgment as she adds another option to the pile. “Finley after watching a crime documentary.”

“‘Sup.” Finley flashes a peace sign with her fingers.

“Thatisaccurate, by the way,” Dylan acknowledges, adding another few cards to the pile. When she reaches the one she initially pursed her lips at, she looks at Reeves and sets the card in the center of the table. “What would Dylan find disturbing and oddly charming?Reeves’ dick.”

He wiggles his brows at her as Everett interjects, “Disturbing sounds about right.”

“And charming,” Reeves reiterates.

“And disturbing,” Dylan tosses back at him.

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure all dicks would be disturbing to our dear Dylan,” Finley teases.

“Hey!” Dylan shoves her shoulder, but it only makes Finley cackle harder.

“And why are all dicks disturbing?” Reeves questions, clearly intrigued.

“Because Dylan’s never seen one,” Everett answers. His eyes slide to hers. “Right, Dylan?”

Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as she tucks her blonde hair behind her ear and mutters, “No comment.”

“No shit?” Reeves pops the cap back onto the marker and tosses it on the table. “You’ve never seen a dick? Not even on TV?”

“I’m sorry, what shows do you watch that include dicks?” she challenges.

“I dunno? Porn?”

Dylan shies away from him. “Ew.”

“Okay,Game of Thrones?” he adds. When Dylan’s face stays blank, he leans forward. “Fuck me. You’ve never seenGame of Thrones?”

“I mean, I’ve heard of it,” Dylan offers. “Isn’t it like…kind of old?”

“No fucking way.” Reeves shakes his head again like he can’t believe it. “Old? It’s a classic, Dylan. There’s a difference.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums.

“Aw, come on,” Reeves continues. “Put a white wig on you, and you’re practically Daenerys Targaryen.”

Maverick tilts his head, studies a squirming Dylan, and nods. “You know, I think you’re onto something.”

“Right?” Reeves points his index finger at Griffin and Jaxon, who’ve been shockingly quiet considering the topic of conversation. “I want you two to know you failed as older brothers.” He turns back to Dylan. “We’re watching it. You and me.”

“No thanks.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because she doesn’t want to,” Everett announces. “Now, pick a card, Dylan. Finish the turn.”

“Okay.” She picks my card and lifts it in the air. “What does Dylan find disturbing and oddly charming?And the answer is…Finley after watching a crime documentary.”

“Yes!” I do a short victory dance and grab the card pinned between Dylan’s two fingers, adding it to my pile so we can tally up whose cards were chosen the most once the game is finished.

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