“You guys did that to close the game, didn’t you?” Kyle said, looking like he might throw up.
“Yep,” Emma smirked, and Matt crushed his soaking body up against hers. Emma squealed as Matt refused to let her escape.
“Good thinking,” Kyle says and sits down, breathing hard. “I am so glad I didn’t have to cart Trevor over my shoulder. I think I am going to puke.” That earned a snort from Trevor, who shook his head, and Kyle looked miserable.
“I’ll hand these out and do the final tally,” Jules said. She walked over and pulled out her napkin with scores on it.
“Okay, so our darling Emma wins with a hundred and seven packs! Second place is Kyle, with eighty-six, so he’s on dishes. Matt, you get trash. Marissa, you get the laundry. I claim boat trash. Trevor, you get Kitchen duty. Patrick,
