Page 49 of Shockproof

Slater’s chortle immediately receives a displeased glare that he meets with an innocent shoulder shrug.

Just becausehe’swilling to risk life or limb for every task he takes on doesn’t mean everyone else is.

Or should be.

Especially when it comes to an innocent bridal shower game!

“I’mma get us one of those bottles of wine, Delley,” Dad coos, closing the gap between him and Mom. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

She smiles wide and leans up to kiss him just as T whips into the scene. “Ughhhhh,” groans my brother, needlessly shielding his eyes, “can you not put your tongue in Mom’s mouth for like twenty minutes?” He slides over to pluck up one of the peppers. “You have any idea how weird it is to have to convince your in-laws that probablywasn’tyour parents coming out of the bathroom from a quickie?!”

More laughter falls from everyone except this time I join in.

What can I say?

It’s fun when the spotlight isn’t on me.

“By the way, Arlez, this playlist?” He kicks his thumb over his shoulder. “Insane.”

“Slater helped,” I immediately inform, not wanting to take all the credit for something we did together. “That little 80s karaoke moment brought to you by ‘I Melt With You’? All him.”

“Did not realize how crazy that song would make Hildy go,” my brother sweetly gushes. “Or that she knew every fucking word to ‘Speechless’ by Dan and something.”

“Shay.” The effortless informing has another round of credit going to my boyfriend. “Also Slater.”

“Yeah but ‘Sunday Morning’ and ‘This Will Be’ were all you, baby.”

“Huh.” More peppers are flung into T’s mouth. “Maybe we should let you two DJ the wedding.”

“Or maybe…” I attempt to segue again, “we should focus on playing the next game?” My nodding is trailed by shooting Slater a pleading look to assist in the transition. “Maybe one of the trivia ones?”

“So that Dad doesn’t hurt his back again?” T quickly investigates.

“I’m fine,” our father insists on an unhappy grump.

“Trivia sounds like a good call, Angel Cake,” Slater smoothly states. “Maybe theNearly Wedgame?”

“Is that the one where you ask the couples questions and they have to answer on a dry erase board? Because if so,” T mindlessly smacks between shoveling more peppers into his mouth, “I vote yes. I knowsooooomuch shit about Hildy and need to bring home a win for this family. We suck out there.”

Dad shakes his head in commiseration, “We do suck.”

“You’d think Arlez would’ve catered these games in our favor,” my brother juvenilely criticizes.

“How is it my fault you still suck at charades?!”

“You suck at charades too!”

“I’m great at charades!”

Slater waves his hand from side to side in silent disagreement.

“Hey!” A sharp finger is stabbed in his direction. “Did we or did we not beat Blu and Aviva last time we played?!”

“You are an amazin’ guesser, Angel Cake,” Cowboy lovingly reassures, “buthorribleactor.”

“Ouch.”

“See,” T childishly snickers only to receive a scowl from me.

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