Okay, I thought. This would be easy enough.

But then the host explained how the game was going to work. Our partner would guess our answer, and then the answer would be read to the crowd. In other words, we couldn’t cheat.

I studied the list of questions.

What is their favorite color? I thought about what I’d seen Dean wear. Usually dark or neutral suits with a pop of color. Hadn’t I seen green on his phone case? I really wasn’t sure, but I did know people really only chose from a pool of like three colors when it came to favorites. Blue was the cliche, green was a close runner up. Dean didn’t strike me as a “black like my soul” type, and what kind of psychopath would say a color like gray? Colors like yellow, orange, red, and purple were also a slim chance. With a quick shrug, I jotted down “Green”.

What was the most embarrassing thing they’ve ever done in front of you? I grinned. There was no point trying to get this one right. I had no chance. The only thing to do was make up something super embarrassing and watch the crowd’s reaction when the hosts read it to them. In other words, it was my chance for a tiny bit of payback on my “Daddypums”. I tapped the pencil to my lip, searching for something appropriately humiliating. After brainstorming for a solid minute, I was laughing to myself as I scribbled down the totally fabricated answer.

When did you know they were the one? I wanted to sigh. At best, I was going to get one out of three right. I suddenly wished I’d taken Dean’s suggestion to get to know each other back in the room a little more seriously. At least I would’ve had some kind of framework to build on. As it was, I hardly knew anything about the man. My best hope with this one was to make up something sappy and sweet. We probably wouldn’t be on the same page, but it’d at least look like I was head over heels for the guy.

I desperately wanted to whisper to Dean and cheat, but the non-couple pair of partners already got in trouble and were booed by the crowd for trying to talk.

So I sat and waited until one of the hosts came and collected my card.

The host started with the pair of people who weren’t a couple. They did surprisingly well, only missing two questions. Next, she went to Lizzie and Jonas, who only got one right. Lizzie took the loss in good humor, but Jonas looked embarrassed or pissed that he’d been the one to screw it up for them.

When it was our turn, I found myself going rigid with worry, even though I couldn’t quite say why. Even the soon to be bride and groom had bombed the game, so why was I nervous?

“Okay, okay,” the host with our cards said, lowering a palm to the ground to urge the crowd to quiet. “Mr. Slater! What would your lovely lady say your favorite color is?”