Page 66 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“What did you do to pass the time on the road?” Grady asks, leaning against the wall across from me on my bed.
“I did a lot of reading. A lot of stargazing,” I answer. Then I add, “I found … companions along the way.” I leave out the fact that they were male companions, and that they almost always agreed to the rules. They normally obeyed, staying on the other side of the boundary line. Except for Grady. He snuck through all my defenses, and I realize I may have underestimated him. Perhaps I made the same assumption about him that the rest of the town seemed to. That he wouldn’t fight for this. But he did, and here I am, my heart completely, wholly, utterly his. Had I known the feelings I’m having now would be so goddamn tangled around my heart, I would have built bigger walls. Stronger walls.
Grady’s jaw flicks at the mention of my other romantic dalliances. We’ve never talked about them, or how many therehave been. There’s never been a reason to since those are the types of conversations you have before getting into a serious relationship. Grady, thankfully, focuses on the original topic of conversation.
“No stars out tonight. We’ll have to find something else.”
I jump up from where I’m sitting and climb up onto the small kitchen table to reach the cupboard up above. I pull out a worn, flat box, and bring it back over to the bed.
“I have scrabble,” I offer. Grady wrinkles his nose as if I’ve just put stinky cheese and not a very popular board game in front of him.
“Scrabble is kind of boring, isn’t it? Isn’t it a game that old people play?” My lips curl into a playful smirk, unable to hide my amusement.
“Oh, no, no, no. You clearly haven’t played Scrabble the way I play it,” I say, cocking a suggestive eyebrow. “Dirty, with strip Scrabble rules.”
“Strip Scrabble?”He leans forward towards me, his curiosity piqued, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hand over one wrist in between them.
“You can only use dirty words. Feel free to exchange your letters, if need be, but also get creative. The words count as long as you can justify how they would be used in a dirty context,” I explain. “Strip rules means that if you don’t get more points than the last person’s turn, you remove one piece of clothing. Easy?”
“Easy.”
I let Grady pick his letters first, and we start the game. A competitive grin tugs at Grady’s mouth as he places his first word.
L-A-B-
“Labia? You chose the word labia as your first word.” The laugh that erupts out of me would be better described as a cackle. “It’s not exactly dirty. Though it is anatomically correct.”
“It’s the best I had!” he says defensively.
“Okay, okay. Well, it won’t be hard to beat your points, I’ll say that.” I mark down eight points for labia.
“Hey, you didn’t count my double-word score.”
“Fine.” I cross out the eight and put down a sixteen instead. Then I place my letters.
“Candy,” Grady reads as I place each letter down on the board. “I’m going to need you to justify that one, Rebel.”
“Candy has multiple dirty connotations,” I argue. “You can call someone a piece of eye candy. You can wear edible underwear. Don’t forget about the popular 50 Cent song where he uses the candy shop as a metaphor for an erotic experience,” I say as if I’m citing the 50 Cent Wiki page. My chin tips up in victory.
“Alright, that tracks. Fifteen points. Well done. But not good enough, I’m afraid.” Grady clucks his tongue. “Take off some clothing.”He says it as a command and butterflies roar in my gut. But I have a competitive edge, so I purse my lips at him, scowling as I remove my sweatpants, now sitting in nothing but a T-shirt and my underwear.
The next word Grady places is “licked”, which earns him nineteen points. Better than my last word by three. Fuck.
“What the hell, Grady?” I groan. “Am I going to be the only one stripping here?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I’m fucking amazing at Scrabble.” His eyes twinkle as his mouth curves up into a lopsided grin.“I used to play all the time with Winnie and her friends.”
“This game is rigged!” I reach behind me and throw a pillow in his direction, which he easily deflects with his hand.“You never told me you were secretly a seventy-year-old woman inside that sexy, tattooed body of yours.”
“Oh yeah, I almost always have a pocket full of Werther’s, too,” he says with a smirk. “I’m going to enjoy stripping all those clothes off of you.”
“Don’t get too cocky. You’ll have to do it fair and square,” I say, and I spell out the word “quickie”, right over the top of a double word score. “Forty-four points please.”
“Fuck me.”
“Yeah, I’ve also played a lot of Scrabble. Sometimes I play it against myself when I’m alone. Take something off, Grady. That’s how the game works.” He groans, but he does as he’s told and removes his T-shirt, baring his firm pecks, his abs flexing as he leans back against the wall.
My eyes stay fixed on Grady’s face as he places his word.Wet.
