Page 60 of No One Wants That (Blitzen Bay)

BUTCH

“Never have I ever shot more than ten types of guns.”

Raine walks up to Mason and me and holds out her hands.

“What the fuck, Raine?” Mason says, giving her one of his chips. “How are you coming at me after all of the times I’ve saved your ass? The next time we’re in the field, I’m going to let you fend for yourself.”

“No you won’t,” she says, patting him on the top of his head. “It’s not in your DNA.”

“Aren’t you forgetting someone,” I say, slapping a chip into her hand. I point at Millie. “I know she’s shot that many, too.”

“I’m out of the game, dumbass,” Millie says, kicking my leg again. “Or did you forget that you bumped me first round?”

“Wait,” Alex says, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Millie. “You’ve shot more than ten types of guns?”

“You’ve met my dad, Alex. You remember? The scary motherfucker. He’s been training me on guns almost since I was born.”

Raine walks over to Nash and holds out her hand. “You know you have. Give it up.”

“Fine,” Nash says, handing her the chip and nodding over at Alex. “Do you need to give up a chip, too?”

“What?” Alex says, twisting up his face. “You’re crazy. I’ve never shot any type of gun much less ten different kinds.”

“You’ve never shot a gun?” Mason says, spinning his head around to Alex.

“No,” Alex says, looking around the group for help. “Is that weird? I’m a pacifist.”

“You’re a what?” I say, shaking my head. “Just when I was starting to like you a little bit, you have to make a confession like that. We’re taking you out on the range first thing when we get back.”

“Not a chance,” Alex says, holding up his chips. “Like I said, I’m a pacifist—a pacifist with all of his chips left.”

“Good God, Raine,” I say. “Please take him out of this game.”

“I’m not taking my boyfriend out of the game,” Raine says, looking at Kit. “And it’s not my turn. Can you take Butch out?”

“Yep.”

“I pass to Kit,” Raine says, sticking her tongue out at me as she sits back down on Alex’s lap.

“Never have I ever,” Kit says, looking slowly from me to Alex, “had to come out of a professional baseball game because I punched a fan and cut my finger.”

“Kit!” Raine says. “You were supposed to take out Butch.”

“First one, then the other,” Kit says, holding her hand out to Alex.

“You saw that game, huh?” Alex sighs and hands Kit his two chips.

“You punched a fan?” Millie says, laughing. “I thought you were a pacifist.”

“The kind with blades that blows cool air, not the human kind. I had two errors in an inning. I was a little pissed off.”

“I’d be prouder if you’d punched the human kind,” I say, holding up my one remaining chip. “And you’re out of the game, pacifist.”

“Someone take him out, please.” Alex looks between Kit and Raine.

“Take him out, Raine,” Kit says.

“Never have I ever slept with a Chili’s waitress.”

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