“Eighty thousand dollars,” Mr. Not Gonna Win Tonight barks. “One hundred.” I stare straight at Addie, my paddle still up in the air. “Ten more if you tell me your favorite character.” “Fluffle Bucket,” she says. “And I got a triple-death before I came here to get dressed.” “You can play one-handed?” “I can do a lot of things one-handed.” Fuck. Me. Again. I just popped a boner. Worst part? Betting I’m not the only one in this room that just happened to. And if I find out who any of the other boner-sporters are, I’m kicking their asses.
