"It's literal interpretation," Mateo replied, grinning.
The next few blocks were tamer, more touch tasks, more interaction. Then Jax pulled one that made him pause.
"April removes one item of clothing."
His eyes flicked to Arthur.
"Strategically escalating," Arthur said.
April reached down and pulled off one sock, tossing it toward the couch.
"Also technically accurate," she said.
Liam's expression was carefully neutral, but she caught the hint of amusement in his eyes.
Two blocks later: "Killian: adjust April's position for optimal comfort."
Killian shifted, his hands careful at her shoulders, guiding her to lean back against the couch base instead of sitting fully upright.
"Better?"
"Yes," she said.
Someone pulled another clothing block. Then another. The tasks were multiplying. Arthur had started it; the others followed. Shoes came off. Someone's tie. A blazer.
"Round four," Arthur said when the tower collapsed again. "New blocks. Category: your choice."
"Anarchy," Jax said happily.
This round, the blocks got weird.
"Narrate the next pull in a movie trailer voice"—obviously Caleb.
"Everyone hum for thirty seconds"—that had to be Jiro.
The next three blocks that got pulled were all suspiciously on-brand for specific people—Jax's "chaos multiplication" style, Arthur's "structured regulation" tone, Liam's "dry analytical" phrasing.
"Explain your last pull using only corporate metaphors."
"That's not mine," Killian said before anyone could guess.
Then Mateo pulled one that made him stop: "Kiss April's hand like you're asking her to dance."
His head snapped up, looking around the circle.
"I didn't write that," he said.
"Sure you didn't," Jax said.
"I didn't."
"It sounds exactly like something you'd write," Caleb added.
"It's not mine," Mateo insisted.
Dante took a sip of his coffee, the picture of innocence.
April watched the realization spread around the circle.
