“No, you partner with Arizona, I’ll verse you two,” Jaxon said. “I don’t need a partner.”
My eyes bounced between Jameson and his brother. Even though they were identical twins and similar in height, Jameson had a broader muscular build, whereas Jaxon, who still had arms that were lethal, had a leaner physique. However, it wasn’t just their physical similarities that separated them; Jameson was the one my soul felt drawn to, regardless of my best efforts to shift its focus regularly.
“That works,” Boden chimed in. “Okay, so Lakelyn saw this idea on Pinterest, and we thought it would be a fun twist on the classic childhood game Battleship. As you can see, we’ve set up two tables, each with a wall in the center, to prevent teams from seeing the other side, so there’s no cheating. We’ve drawn squares on the sheets of bristle board that mimic the actual game board, which are attached to both the table and the wall. You can use the marker provided to mark off your guesses, and the poker chips are there for you to place on the bottom board when your opponent guesses incorrectly and misses a ship. Ifthey guess correctly, it’s up to you and your partner to decide who will take the Jell-O shot.”
“Will the Jell-O shots represent the boats? I don’t remember how many holes each boat had,” Luke, Brooke’s husband, asked.
“That might just be the best part; let me grab the boats,” Lakelyn said with a quick, energetic double clap.
“Do you want any help?” I offered.
“Just grab the door for me in a second.”
“Of course.”
When Lakelyn returned, she had two double-stacked trays full of gray duct tape-shaped boats with red and green Jell-O shots inside plastic cups.
“Holiday spirit colors, I see.”
“Absolutely, there’s no better excuse.”
“I love it.”
“Here, you take the top tray.”
We walked over to the tables and divided the boats evenly based on size and the number of shots in each, so everything was evenly dispersed.
“All right, the final step is to lay your boats out, and then we can officially begin.”
“Ladies first, Red.” Jameson handed me a boat to place on the board.
Given my hair color, I was surprised that more people didn’t call me “Red.” Even though only Jameson did, I found myself hating that I liked the sound of it crossing his lips a little less every time he said it.
Jaxon had already sunk three of mine and Jameson’s battleships, which meant we were both six Jell-O shots deep, and I was well on my way to feeling the effects of the vodka in the shooters. I wasn’t a lightweight, but damn, someone was a little heavy-handed when they poured the shots, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the green Jell-O had more of a bite.
“You good, Red?” Jameson whispered, and I closed my eyes and tried to ignore what his cologne did to me as the thought of bathing in it suddenly popped into my brain.
“I’m great.”
“B-two,” Jaxon called out.
“Dang it.” I sighed. “Hit. Is this some twin telepathy thing you got going on? Because I must say, Jameson, yours seems to be malfunctioning.” I shot him a side-eye glance and handed him the next shot.
“Nah, I’m just that good.” Jaxon laughed. “That’s why I partnered you with him—I don’t struggle to see what’s right in front of me.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” Jameson countered.
Jaxon held his hands up in surrender. “Not trying to be, I swear.”
I looked at the board and pointed to my next guess. “Good?”
“You don’t need my permission, Ari, because you’ll always have it.”
“G-six,” I called out, not allowing his words to get in my head.
“Hit.”
“Fuck, yeah!” I pumped my fist in the air, only to hear a yelp from Sheba.
