Chapter 21
Autumn
Okay, so this should be interesting.
It’s a game where you get dealt five topic cards, like—
Well, mine are casual sex, trash smell, Taylor Swift, rom-coms, and Ping-Pong. And I’m the player of honor at the moment, so everyone else has to guess what order of preference I would put those cards in.
Rom-coms is first, obviously.
Trash smell is last.
I don’t love Ping-Pong, so I put that right before trash smell.
Taylor Swift and casual sex.
Huh. Well, right now, if I could have one of those or the other, I know which I’d pick.
I sneak a peek at Tucker and discover that he’s peeking—or, really, staring—back. I feel myself flush red. Surely he’s not literally thinking the same thing, not actually wondering where I rank casual sex.
I mean, I did climb on top of him in the middle of the night last night.
Fuck it. I rank casual sex between rom-coms and Taylor Swift, and whatever he makes of that, he can make.
When we all turn up our cards, Tucker is the only one who’s guessed right across the board.
“Awww!” Natalie says. “That’s so cute!”
I can’t keep my eyes from making their way to Tucker again. And he’s looking right back—again—and I can’t read the expression on his face—again. But it’s not disgust. It might be a kind of curiosity, and that warms me all over.
Thankfully Summer’s the next one up, and attention shifts from Tucker and me to everyone fussing over her and Jane, who also guesses Summer’s cards one-for-one.
Despite the mortal embarrassment of knowing everyone in this room except Summer and Jane knows I’m a lying liar who lies, I’m having fun.
Because even though I feel all kinds of torn about lying to my sister and her fiancée and making an entire roomful of Tucker’s family go along with our sham meet-cute story, I absolutely love his family.
I love the completely over-the-top amount of food we’ve been served, the pack of goofy puppers surging around our ankles, the undercurrents of deep affection obvious beneath the teasing.
I even love the teasing itself—smart, harmless, and clearly, in our case, well-deserved.
Also it was waaay too fun listening to Tucker try to improv his way through the web of our meet-cute story. I didn’t think the guy had it in him, but he’s surprisingly nimble on his verbal feet. He can sling bullshit with the best of them.
He would make a great joyful-productivity guru, if he wanted a career change…
The player of honor role rotates through most of the Hott siblings and their spouses, girlfriends, and fiancées, and lands back on Tucker. He draws having someone stare at your butt, delivering a speech, washing dishes, Ed Sheeran, and—
“Oh, yeah,” Natalie says as Tucker plays his last card. “I have the not-safe-for-work expansion pack.”
“Think of the children!” Hanna says, covering Harrison’s eyes.
“I am thinking of the children,” she says. “We’re only going to be able to do this a little longer before we can’t play the NSFW version around them, so we have to do it as much as possible for now!”
The card is giving oral.
Okay, so this is a card you don’t really want to get wrong in public if you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone.
For so many reasons. I’m deep into the twisty logic already.
Like, will he put that card first even if he doesn’t like giving oral, because what guy is going to admit in public that he doesn’t like it?
Or will he put it wherever he genuinely ranks it, because he hates lying?
And where would he genuinely rank it?
Is he the kind of guy who avoids the task unless he’s called to deliver?
Or the kind of guy who does what needs to be done because he believes in reciprocity and mutuality and women’s pleasure?
Or the kind that goes after it with gusto, who genuinely loves the tastes and sensations, whose tongue is everywhere and whose skill can’t lie about his level of both enthusiasm and experience?
And why am I picturing Tucker’s head between my legs in the presence of his entire sibling corps and mine???
I hate you, Natalie, I think and look up to find her smirking at me.
I will corner her later and accuse her of doctoring the deck. Or slipping that card in to stir up trouble. She’s a shit stirrer.
A trait that usually I appreciate.
But right now, I’m frozen.
Everyone else has laid their cards down, including Tucker, and there is nothing on Tucker’s spectacular poker face to give me the slightest clue about how to proceed.
Damn, gonna have to go for broke here.
Giving oral, Ed Sheeran (he said he likes all music!), delivering a speech (it’s his job, after all, or at least that’s what we’ve led my sister and Jane to believe), washing dishes, and having someone stare at your butt. I don’t think Tucker ever likes having attention on any part of him.
Although, Jesus, that butt deserves every bit of attention that anyone lavishes on it. It’s a butt that, aside from being a beautiful specimen, screams This man can go all night.
Autumn! Focus!
We go in order from five to one.
Five, it turns out, is Ed Sheeran.
“You said you liked all music,” I remind him.
“Did I literally say all?” he asks. “I have to be allowed a few exceptions.”
“But why would that be Ed Sheeran? Ed Sheeran is awesome.”
“Moving on,” Natalie says, “we have delivering a speech at four.”
“It’s literally your job,” I complain to him as my number three gets revealed.
“Doesn’t mean I like the up-in-front-of-an-audience part. I prefer the individual coaching. But there’s more money in keynotes.”
I press my lips together so I don’t laugh. He sounds so earnest and so convincing. He probably shouldn’t lie, because he’s way too good at it.
“Number three, washing dishes,” Tucker says, turning it up.
“You like washing dishes more than delivering a keynote or listening to Ed Sheeran?”
Everyone at the table is watching us with amusement.
“The water’s warm. Plus, I’m not much of a cook, so washing dishes is what I can do for whoever’s managed to provide me with food.”
“I can get behind that,” I say. “Also, why haven’t I cooked for you yet?”
“We’ve been going out to a lot of restaurants,” he says. And then he smirks, like actually smirks, at me. “And ordering in a lot.”
The smirk is totally fake. The story is completely made up. But heat flushes down my entire body.
Number two is having someone stare at my butt.
“No,” I say.
“Depends on the person,” he says, and there’s the smirk again, and here’s the thing: It doesn’t feel fake. It feels real, like he’s really and truly flirting with me. Like he’s telling me that he doesn’t mind me checking him out.
“Why is them getting all the answers wrong so hot?” Natalie asks, fanning herself with a wad of cards.
“Because they didn’t get all the answers wrong,” Eden, Rhys’s girlfriend, says.
We all look down at the cards. And of course, she’s right.
Tucker turns up the card next to giving oral. One.
I turn up my card. One.
When I turn to look at him, he’s not smirking. There’s no amusement at all in his expression.
Only heat.