Hunter sorts out a run of cards, ace through king, laying them face up on the table. Then he flips them over, shuffles, and fans them out for us to pick. “This way,” he explains, “there’s only one rule per face value.” I draw an ace. Whatever Morgan draws makes him chuckle, and when I raise an eyebrow at him, he flashes me a wide, dangerous smile.
Oh boy.
After everyone’s picked a card, Hunter collects them all and shuffles again. “The training wheels are off; everyone gets to come up with a rule and enforce it.” He’s speaking for my benefit, of course.
The newbie.
“What are the hard limits?” I ask.
“Hard limits?” Hunter’s hands slow.
“You know,” Kit interrupts. “Water sport, blood play.”
“Spanking,” Morgan adds.
“Whips.”
“Anal.”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Hunter waves his arms. “I get it, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. However, I don’t think that’s quite what your fiancée means.”
“Well,” I start. “I’m guessing regular Uno game play is allowed—reverse, skip, draw cards.”
Hunter nods. “No rules that make anyone draw more than four cards, though. We’d be here forever.”
“Got it,” I say.
“Light humiliation,” Morgan adds.
“What?”
“One time Silas made everyone who played a certain card cluck like a chicken,” Hunter tells me with a grin.
“A PG version of truth or dare.” I glance at Morgan and his gaze goes soft. Memories of our game of truth or dare flash in my mind, but I force the thought away. “So what’s out of bounds and what’s acceptable?”
“Nothing that requires too much time or getting up from the table,” Hunter says. “Other than that, someone can object and we’ll deliberate.”
“This isn’t a fucking federal court,” Jared mutters.
“Plus,” Kit adds, “you have to be willing to do whatever it is yourself if you play the card.”
Good point.
Hunter finishes dealing out the hand. “Everyone have their rules in mind?”
Heads around the table nod.
And Hunter flips over the top card.
This game is brutal. It’s not a skill game. It’s entirely a memory game, and the shit people make up is bananas.
At one point, Hunter plays a queen and Morgan reaches for the deck. “Penalty for not genuflecting to Rory.”
Hunter cackles, accepting the penalty card and then giving me a bow and twirling his hand while saying, “My queen.”
My face goes beet red, and I reach across the table in Morgan’s direction but he ducks out of range, shoulders shaking from laughter. The whole table is laughing, and I can’t decide if I want to punch Morgan or kiss him.
“What does genufelting mean?” Leo asks, once the laughter has died down, and his mispronunciation has me biting back another chuckle.
