Page 44 of Well Played

Presley then decided to make smoothies. As she got out the blender, she asked me if I would trust her to put something in my smoothie I’d likely never agree to if I knew what it was. She bet me I wouldn’t be able to taste it. Always up for a challenge, I let her do it.

She made me look away while she blended it.

When she finally told me I could turn around, she handed me a tall, green drink.

I took it and sniffed. “This better not be disgusting.”

“Just drink it.” She laughed.

As I drank it down, I tasted nothing but peanut butter and banana. It was actually really good—nice and icy, too.

After a few sips, I said, “Okay, tell me what you put in this.”

She flashed an impish grin. “Chicken liver.”

I nearly gagged. “Really?”

Presley giggled. “Yup.”

I didn’t want to seem like a pussy, so I drank more of the drink down even though it now grossed me out.

“Turns out,” she said, “you can hide the taste of almost anything with ripe banana, sweet vanilla milk, and peanut butter. Besides the liver, I also put in spinach and ice.” She smiled. “This is how I get Alex to eat his veggies. I hide them in shakes.”

“So why does he just get veggies, and I got liver?” I asked, sucking the last of the smoothie down.

“You were my test subject. They say organ meat from time to time is good for your immune system. I pan fried some last night and planned to blend it for myself, but figured I’d have you try it first to make sure the flavor wasn’t overbearing.” She winked. “I actually had no clue whether you’d be able to taste it.”

“I was your test rat. Great.”

“Exactly.”

As we cleaned up breakfast, I made some wise-ass comment, and she got back at me by grabbing the sprayer attached to the sink and pointing it in my direction. That turned into an all-out brawl for control of it. We were both laughing so hard.

I managed to grab it and spray her, proclaiming, “This is what you get for tricking me into eating liver, woman.”

I hadn’t thought that move through, though, and now she had a full-on wet T-shirt. Feeling bad and a little turned on at the same time, I let her win, loosening my grip on the sprayer. She proceeded to drench my shirt.

We were both still cracking up when my mother and Alex walked in.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mom asked.

Presley quickly placed the sprayer in its rightful spot.

“We were playing with the water,” I said. “Things got a little out of hand.”

Alex’s eyes lit up. “Cool! A water fight!”

Realizing her shirt was wet, Presley quickly covered her chest. “Your uncle and I were just having some fun. But it’s over now.”

“Next time I wanna do it, too!” Alex said, rushing past us and toward his room.

Presley continued holding her arms over her chest as my mother looked between us.

“I’d…better go change,” she said, disappearing from the kitchen.

This sucked. Presley and I were damn adults. But right now, I felt like we were two kids who’d been caught doing something bad. And I didn’t like the way my mother was looking at me.

With Presley gone, she dug in. “I’ll ask it again. What the hell are you doing?”

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