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The table was a minefield of shifting alliances, smug smiles, and a growing stack of red, blue, green, and yellow cards. UNO, Sloane had declared, was a scientifically ideal game to measure social competitiveness in confined peer groups.
Translation: it was game night at the Naturals’ house, and things were getting dangerous.
Cassie leaned back on the couch, Dean next to her, their knees touching beneath the table. He wasn't smiling — not openly — but the way he glanced at her cards like he could profile her next move was all too familiar.
“I see that look,” Cassie muttered, shielding her hand. “Don’t analyze me. It’s a card game.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, amused. “You play like someone who grew up around poker.”
“She did,” Michael chimed in from across the table, casually flipping a Reverse card with all the theatrical flair of a magician. “You can always tell. Cool face, hotter tells. But Dean’s right — she’s easy to read when she’s winning.”
“Am not,” Cassie said.
“You absolutely are,” Lia added, stretching out on the floor with a lazy smirk. “You get this little half-smile like you’ve already built someone’s psychological profile in your head. It’s annoying. And hot. But mostly annoying.”
Sloane tossed down a Wild Draw Four. “Statistically, I should be winning more. But I suspect you’re all cheating.”
“You suspect correctly,” Lia said sweetly, placing a yellow card without looking.
Dean finally cracked a smile, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and nudged Cassie with his elbow. “Team up?”
“I thought we weren’t teaming,” Cassie replied, amused.
Dean shrugged. “Uno’s about survival. Might as well survive together.”
Cassie’s heart did a little flip. It wasn’t like Dean to say something sweet in front of the others — that was usually reserved for quiet moments in the library or whispered conversations late at night when the rest of the house was asleep.
Michael groaned. “If you two are going to be gross and strategic, I’m out. No one wants to witness the profiler version of PDA.”
“You’re just bitter because I made you draw eight last round,” Cassie teased.
“No,” he said dramatically, “I’m bitter because you didn’t let me win with dignity. Lia, back me up.”
“Never,” Lia replied, smiling as she slapped another card onto the pile. “Love is a battlefield. So is UNO.”
Sloane squinted at the discard pile. “Technically, it's not a battlefield, but the competitive element—”
“Metaphor, Sloane,” everyone said in unison.
Cassie looked down at her cards: two left. One red eight. One Wild. She felt Dean’s gaze flicker toward her hand, and she raised her brows at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought something.”
“That’s not illegal,” he said dryly.
Michael rolled his eyes. “Everything Dean does feels vaguely illegal.”
Lia added, “He did lie to the FBI that one time.”
Dean didn’t respond — he just played a Skip, turned to Cassie, and murmured, “Your move.”
Cassie narrowed her eyes. “You set me up.”
“Obviously.”
“You’re lucky I like you.”
“I’m aware.”
Cassie placed her red eight. “UNO.”
Everyone groaned.
Sloane looked personally offended. “I demand a shuffle and recount.”
“You can’t recount a card game,” Michael said.
“You can’t,” Sloane corrected, already gathering the cards.
Dean leaned in and whispered, “You could have played the Wild.”
“I wanted the dramatic reveal,” Cassie said, grinning.
He reached for her hand under the table. Their fingers brushed. Soft. Subtle. But grounding.
Outside, the house creaked in the usual way. Familiar. Safe. Inside, the Naturals argued about house rules and card-counting ethics and whether Michael or Lia had been sneakier that game.
But for a moment, for Cassie and Dean, the only thing that mattered was the quiet connection — and the smug satisfaction of beating their friends together.
Twenty minutes later, the UNO game had evolved into something that vaguely resembled its original structure — in the same way a tornado vaguely resembled a breeze.
“Okay,” Michael said, pointing dramatically at the table. “Let the record show that Cassie and Dean are not allowed to form an alliance. It’s basically emotional blackmail.”
Cassie, curled into the corner of the couch, raised an eyebrow. “You sound scared.”
“I am scared,” he shot back. “Dean hasn't blinked in fifteen minutes. I think he’s watching us like we’re case files.”
“You blinked,” Dean said, not even looking up from his cards.
Lia sighed, flipping her glossy hair over one shoulder. “And now it’s an interrogation. Delightful.”
“This,” Sloane said solemnly, setting up a notepad beside her. “Is no longer about fun. This is war.”
Dean looked over at Cassie, whose leg was pressed lightly against his. “Still want to be on my team?”
“I always want to be on your team,” she said quietly — just for him.
Dean’s eyes flickered toward her, and even though his expression barely changed, Cassie knew. He felt it too.
But then Lia shouted, “OH MY GOD, MICHAEL HAS TWO CARDS.”
Michael froze mid-sip of his soda. “I do not—”
“Draw two for lying,” Lia said, smirking.
“That’s not a rule!” Michael protested.
“It is now,” Sloane said, scribbling something furiously in her notepad. “New house variant: ‘Caught Cheating Clause.’ Codified and irrevocable. That’s how rules work.”
Dean chuckled low under his breath and leaned in toward Cassie. “They’re going to implode.”
Cassie looked up at him, her voice softer than the rest of the chaos. “And we’re just going to sit here and win?”
“Obviously.”
He played a Wild. “Red.”
Cassie blinked. “I have blue.”
“I know.”
“You want me to suffer?”
Dean didn’t answer — but his faint smirk said yes.
Cassie narrowed her eyes. “I’m adding that to your profile.”
“You already know everything in my file,” he replied. “You memorized it.”
She opened her mouth to respond — something clever, something warm — but then Michael threw down a Draw Four so aggressively the entire table rattled.
Cassie took a sharp breath. “That’s it.”
“What, you’re mad now?” Michael said.
Dean tilted his head. “No. She’s focused.”
Cassie’s eyes gleamed. She drew her cards, not even looking. “Dean, play what I think you’re going to play.”
Dean didn’t hesitate. Reverse.
Michael cursed.
Cassie slapped down a Draw Two.
Lia groaned. “Oh no.”
Sloane clutched her notepad like a lifeline. “I smell a coup.”
Dean followed it with another Draw Two.
“WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE TWO?” Michael cried.
“They were Cassie’s,” Dean said mildly. “She gave them to me.”
“I didn’t,” Cassie replied. “We’re just that in sync.”
Lia placed her chin in her palm and stared between them. “You two need to kiss and get it over with before I vomit rainbows.”
Cassie glanced sideways at Dean. Their hands were still close, fingers brushing every time they reached for the deck. His posture was calm, but his thumb tapped once against his knee — his only tell.
“Not in front of Michael,” Dean said dryly.
“Thank God,” Michael muttered.
Cassie leaned over, kissed Dean lightly on the cheek — and whispered, “Win this game, and maybe it’s more than that.”
Dean turned to her, and there was something in his eyes — something intense, quiet, but unmistakably real. “Deal.”
A minute later, Cassie tossed her last card with a satisfied smile. “UNO out.”
Sloane dropped her pencil. “I have lost control of this experiment.”
Lia laid down on the floor and dramatically announced, “I forfeit this world and all its sins.”
Michael looked betrayed. “This game has been emotionally devastating.”
Cassie stood and held her hand out to Dean.
He took it.
“Where are you two going?” Michael called.
Dean didn’t turn. “We’re going to kiss somewhere less irritating.”
Cassie grinned. “And somewhere we can’t hear Michael whining.”
As they left the room, she leaned closer to Dean and murmured, “Thanks for playing along.”
He looked down at her. “I’d play any game if it meant being on your side.”