Page 236 of What We Become

“I asked.”

“That’s the opposite of a surprise, Micah.”

“I wanted to be prepared.”

“You can’t prepare for Sage.” I wave him off. “My point is, tonight’s finishing order is our honeymoon order. Winner gets first dibs.”

Silence.

“First dibs on what?” Eli asks, even though every man at this table already knows.

“First dibs on going down on our wife.” I let the word sit there—wife—and watch it land on each of them differently. Knox’s jaw shifts. Eli’s eyes go warm. Micah smiles into his beer. Holden blinks once, hard, the way he does when something hits him. “Winner gets her first on our honeymoon. Tongue. Mouth. The full service. Before anyone else touches her.”

Holden leans back. “You’re turning our honeymoon into a competitive sport?”

“Absolutely.”

Micah puts his beer down. “I’m in.”

“Of course you’re in. You love the licking lick lick.”

“I’m in regardless.” He grins. “But that does make it sweeter.”

Eli stands. Cracks his neck. “Fine. But if I win, I’m taking my time. Fair warning.”

“Noted. Knox?”

Knox is already on the mat. He bends, delivers his bowl, and watches it curve toward the jack. It stops close enough that I’d need a ruler to decide whether there’s daylight between them.

He turns, face flat as concrete. “Pretty sure I’m winning this.”

“The man is definitely a threat,” I mutter.

“That man is going to eat our wife first if you don’t start bowling better,” Holden says, standing and reaching for his bowl with renewed purpose.

“Oh, now he’s competitive.” I roll my eyes.

Holden steps onto the mat. Pauses. Releases.

His bowl curves neatly toward the jack and stops about a handspan away.

“Look who decided to wake up,” Knox says.

“Game on.” Holden grins.

I pick up one of my teal bowls and step onto the mat. My technique is my own invention, relying heavily on geometry, confidence, and refusing to acknowledge how often those two things disagree.

I release.

The bowl curves toward the jack, passes Holden’s, and keeps going.

“Respectable,” Micah says from behind me.

“Respectable is the enemy of greatness.”

“Respectable is also the ally of last place.”

I flip him off without looking. When my second turn comes, I shorten the delivery. Better line. Better distance. Still nowhere near Knox.