“You don't have the guts.”

Drake grinned. “Try me.”

Megan crossed her arms. “Loser does the winner’s chores for a month.”

Drake smirked cockily. “Make it two months and you’ve got a deal.”

“How about two months and uninterrupted control of the remote on Saturday nights?” Megan raised an eyebrow.

“Every Saturday night? For how long?”

“As long as the winner chooses.” Megan smirked. “If the heat’s too intense for you, big brother, then get out of the kitchen.”

“I can take it.” Drake shook her hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Fine.” Megan stood up, an evil glint in her eye. “First one to make Josh cry wins. Rules are – there are no rules.”

Drake vaulted over the back of the couch, grinning widely. “You are so going down.”