“You’re a nine.”
Sloane punched the air in victory. “Yes!”
Naomi was watching us again. I held up a taco and gave her a friendly nod. “Take me to a ten,” I told Waylay when Naomi looked away.
“I don’t know. Knox said the girls aren’t allowed to use level ten at the bar anymore since Garth Lipton almost pooped his pants.”
“Take me to ten,” I insisted tersely.
“There’s nothing heroic about shitting your pants, Rollins,” Sloane said under her breath. Her body went rigid again, and the taco she was holding exploded when it hit her plate. “Gah! Waylay, I wasn’t insulting him. I was giving him advice.”
“It sounded like an insult to me. Besides, you swore, and that’s a dollar for the swear jar, which means Aunt Naomi gets to spend extra time in the stupid produce aisle.”
“Waylay, how are your tacos?” Naomi called.
“They’re good. They’d be better without all the slimy weird vegetables in them, but I guess I can suffer through that part,” the kid said.
“Garth Lipton is forty years older than me,” I said to Sloane over the top of Waylay’s head.
“I’m just looking out for you. You could barely handle an eight. I’d hate to see what a ten would do to you. I mean, I’d love it. But I’m being the bigger, more mature adult here,” she whispered back.
“Just because you can’t handle a ten has no bearing on my endurance. I’ll be fine.”
“I am a woman. Two weeks ago, I had cramps so bad I had to lie down on the floor of the public restroom at the mechanic’s garage. And then I had to get back up and go do my job for eight hours. I was born to handle a ten.”
“You two aren’t saying mean things, but your tones are getting kinda snippy,” Waylay warned.
“Take me to a ten,” I ordered.
“Fine. Tens all around. I’ll show you how to handle it,” Sloane snapped.
“I hate to point this out because I’m definitely having fun here, but I think you guys are losing sight of the reason Knox is letting me electrocute you.”
First Knox, now Waylay. The voices of reason were getting less likely as the evening wore on.
Sloane glared at me over Waylay’s head. I glared back.
“Bite me,” she mouthed at me.
“You’re not my type,” I mouthed back.
“Is everything okay down there?” Naomi asked, sounding nervous.
“Fine except for Lucian scowling at me like a—” Sloane grunted, her face contorting in pain. “Worth it,” she wheezed.
“You’re such an idiot,” I told her. And then I was doubling over, my face hovering over my plate of tacos as an excruciating current of pain tore through me. “It’s in my kidneys.”
Waylon and Piper were barking frantically now.
“Knox Morgan! Why is our daughter electrocuting our guests?” Naomi shrieked.
My friend held up his hands. “Daze, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this.”
“Jesus,” Nash muttered. “I don’t know which one to arrest first.”
“You know what? I think I’ll go get the cobbler…and more alcohol,” Lina said, getting up from the table.
“I’ll help,” Waylay said, escaping the room before a punishment could be dealt out.
“I’ll supervise,” Nash volunteered.
We got to our feet and began ripping off electrodes. My legs felt like they were made of brittle wood. One wrong step and I’d collapse. There was an echo of pain in my lower back.
I took Sloane by the upper arm and steered her toward the back door. “Outside,” I said tersely.
“But I want to watch Naomi tear Knox a new one,” she complained.
“You have a lifetime of opportunities for that.” I dragged her outside onto the deck and shut the door. It was cold and dark. The naked trees cast skeletal shadows over the snow from the stingy light of the crescent moon.
“Did level ten fry your brain?” Sloane asked, slipping out of my grip.
“We’re calling a truce,” I announced.
“That’s not how that works.”
“I’m forty years old. I run a multimillion-dollar business. I own property. I pay taxes. I vote. I cook. I get the goddamn flu shot every year.”
“Congratulations. Where can I send your gold star?”
“We’re adults,” I said, pointing to the window where it appeared chaos was still reigning. “And that in there was the latest performance in a long line of immature shit shows that we’ve starred in together.”