their guest?”
“Oh, no.” Nia waved her index finger as she shook her head. “You frittered away your guest pick on killer bunnies.”
Kyle smiled down at her. “Then there’s only one way to settle this,” he said. “Shut your eyes, and keep them closed.”
She did as he asked.
“Now spin around,” he said.
“What?” Nia opened one eye.
“Come on, close your eyes and spin around a few times,” Kyle coaxed.
Nia did the spins until he put his hands on her upper arms to steady her.
“Now point,” he said. “Whatever game your finger lands on, we’ll play.”
Again, she did as he instructed.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
She watched him pull a battered cardboard box from the middle of the stack and blow the dust off the lid.
Nia’s eyes widened at her selection.
“Twister?” She’d only played it once as a kid, but recalled it was more physical than moving a peg or tiles on a board.
“Yeah, I played it back in college on Old-School Game Night,” he said. “And it was your choice.”
It was indeed, Nia groaned inwardly.
“But don’t you need at least three people?” She hoped for a reprieve from the potentially close contact. “If we’re playing, who’ll referee and spin the board?”
He opened the box and skimmed the rules on the inside lid.
“We’ll improvise,” he said. “I’ll spin for you, and you can spin for me. We’re allowed to take our hand off the spots only long enough to spin the dial.”
“Is that in the rules?”
“We’re playing the special snowbound edition,” Kyle raised a brow, “where the only rules are—there are no rules.”
Nia crossed her arms over her chest. “Then it’s only fair to warn you, I won’t take it easy on you because you’re company.”
He squared his broad shoulders. “Bring it.”
They moved operations to the living room, which was warmer and had more space to accommodate the large plastic mat.
“How about raising the stakes with a wager?” Kyle proposed as he spread the mat out in front of the fireplace.
Nia narrowed her eyes. “I don’t have much money, and if I did, I wouldn’t gamble it.”
“I’m thinking of something more interesting than money.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“If I win, I want a do-over of this morning’s breakfast,” he said. “But instead of cold cereal, I want you to put the bacon and eggs I saw in the fridge earlier to good use and serve them up for dinner.”
The bubble of laughter tickling Nia’s throat exploded as she recalled the incredulous look on this face at the sight of the Lucky Charms box.
“And if you lose, you’ll do the same?”
Kyle kicked off his shoes and stood on the opposite side of the mat. “I don’t know the first thing about cooking.” He shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t lose, either.”
“Well, in the event you do lose, and I win, I’ll come up with something else for you to do.”
“Deal.” Kyle extended his hand across the plastic mat.
She shook it, trying hard to ignore the delicious tingle the brief skin-on-skin contact left in its wake.
He offered her the first spin, but she deferred to her guest. Kyle spun the plastic spinner on the cardboard dial, when it stopped he called out the results. “Right foot, red.”
The aged plastic mat crackled as Nia walked on it and selected a red spot to place her socked foot.
Kyle passed the dial to her.
“Left hand, yellow,” she said, as Kyle plunked his hand down on a yellow spot at the other end of the mat.
When Kyle called out her next moves, Nia was careful to select spots on the side of the mat she’d staked out. But as her fears of close contact ebbed, her competitive streak grew bolder.
“Right hand, blue,” she said, but couldn’t resist adding a taunt. “Hmm, that’s going to be a stretch. Sure you don’t want to pack this away and get out the Scrabble board?”
The long limbs of his agile body made the difficult move look