“You still with us?” asks Heather. She’s holding a largeknife.
“Yeah. Hi. I’m here. Don’t stab me. What can Ido?”
“Well first, you need to stop smiling because it’s creeping me out, and then I need you to whisk this dressing for a full minute.” She hands me a large mixing bowl filled with a golden-hued liquid mixture. “Then pour it evenly over this julienned salad, but don’t mix the salad. I will do that. Then I’ll have you slice some lemons—you good with aknife?”
“I’m like a C plusknifer.”
“Good enough. If you cut yourself, don’t bleed on thefood.”
“Got it. Will do.” Heather is a hard-ass and I love it. My confidence in her hasgrown.
Iacethe salad dressing and lemon-slicing, and request another task, but Heather gets distracted by the cheese that Scott has returned with. He nods for me to sneak out with him. He leads me to the dining room, where he has set up two piles of index cards, black Sharpie pens, and duct tape. He’s grinning, watching me take it allin.
“We starting a newscript?”
“You wantto?”
“Maybe later. After our best friends are officiallymarried.”
“Cool. This is for the sexgame.”
I remember the times I’ve used duct tape on him at myplace.
“Not that kind. The party game. I told you about it in an email,right?”
“Oh right. The guessinggame.”
He pulls out a chair for me. “Have a seat. Write down a word or phrase with a sexual theme. No swear words. Get creative. Think you can handlethat?”
“Fuck yeah. What’s the duct tapefor?”
“To tape the cards to people’sbacks.”
“Right. Of course. So useful, ducttape.”
He sits down across from me, and writesbondageon a card, while looking at me. He then folds the card in half and drops it into a large bowl at the center of thetable.
I clear my throat and look down at my pen and card. I write:dildo.
“Classic,” hesays.
I fold the card in half and place it in the bowl. “Should we keep it PG-13? I mean, there will be parents and grandparentshere.”
“You haven’t met Sam’s family yet. They’re filthy Scotsmen. It’s safe to go hard adult comedyR.”
I write downBUTTPLUG!
He writes outReverseCowgirl.
I clench my jaw and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from thinking about that time withhim…
I pull out myphone.
“No looking up terms on Urban Dictionary dot com. It has to be terms that most people would know off the top of theirheads.”
I push out my lower lip in a pout and writedoggiestyle.
“Yes, perfect, he says, gazing at me just a little too long before looking away and writing downhoney pot, while subtly licking hislips.
