g*****a tossed a boot to Westley, who looked down at it, and then around the room, with a sort of beleaguered amusement. “Guys, you know this never ends well.”
Someone—Darling?—started a low chant, the others quickly joining in. “Boots! Boots! Boots! Boots!”
“All right, all right!” Something about the set to his shoulders, the gleam in his eyes, made me think Westley was not so reluctant as he pretended. “But if we’re playing Boots, I’m on Teya’s team.”
“Of course,” g*****a said.
“Me, too,” Paris said. “See how long the girly-girls over there can stand up to such a steamroller team.”
Jewel crossed her arms and snorted, looking him up and down. “Oh, I think we can take you, squirt. Right, girls?”
Remembering their fight earlier, I hardly expected Lihua and Darling to take to the idea,
