Page 5 of Consummation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #3)

Four

Kat

“Scrabble?” I ask. “Not quite what I was expecting as our first activity of the weekend.”

Josh puts the game box on his dining room table and crosses his arms over his muscled chest—and much to my surprise, he’s not flashing a smart-ass smirk.

In fact, he looks completely earnest. “You were upset we never do normal, real-life stuff like play board games—so that’s what we’re gonna do.

All. Weekend. Long . You want real life?

You think I’m addicted to excitement, and not to you, personally?

Fine. This entire weekend, I’m gonna be every bit as boring as Boring Blane or Cameron Fucking Schulz.

No booze. No weed. No poker chips. No ‘numbing the pain of my tortured soul.’”

Ah, there it is—he flashes the smart-ass smirk I was expecting a moment ago.

“From here on out,” Josh continues, “I’m all about Scrabble and Monopoly and adamantly not trying to escape the pain of reality in any way.”

My mind is racing with a thousand emotions all at once, but the one that seems to be rising to the top of the heap is relief .

The entire plane ride to Los Angeles, I was stressed out, wondering how the heck I was gonna deflect attention away from my newfound aversion to alcohol—I am the Party Girl with a Hyphen, after all—and now, in an unexpected turn of events, Josh has just made club soda this weekend’s beverage of mutual choice.

“But... we’re seriously gonna play Scrabble ?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” Josh says, spreading the game tiles onto the table.

“We’re gonna find out if we’re every bit as addicted to each other when we’re playing a board game as when we’re saving the world or smoking weed or drinking martinis or fucking in a sex dungeon.

I’m willing to bet anything we will be—but, apparently, you’re not convinced. So, here we go.”

“ I’m not convinced? Are you on crack? You’re the one who didn’t want me to know you’re moving to Seattle.”

“Oh my shit. Really ? That’s the story you’re telling yourself inside your head? That I ‘didn’t want you to know’ I’m moving to Seattle? That’s an interesting spin on reality—and when I say ‘interesting,’ what I mean is ‘completely delusional .’”

I open my mouth to protest. Is he seriously picking a fight with me?

We just walked into his house from the airport not five minutes ago and he’s already laying into me?

Why the hell did I come all the way down here to L.A.

if he’s just gonna ‘dick it up’ and not even try to convince me he’s sorry for—

“ Babe ,” Josh says emphatically, cutting off my internal rant. “I didn’t tell you I was moving to Seattle, which is a whole lot different than me ‘not wanting you to know,’ because I’m a total flop-dick who’s scared shitless about the intensity of my feelings for you.”

My heart skips a beat.

A sexy smile dances on his lips. “I didn’t tell you because I’m having a hard time believing feelings this intense could possibly lead to anything but a gigantic fireball in the sky that burns out as quickly as it ignites,” he continues.

“But, I’ll be damned, no matter what happens, my feelings don’t seem to burn out—not at all—they just keep on blazing hotter and hotter. ” He bites his lip. “And hotter .”

If I were a cartoon character, I’d be saying, “Hummanah-hummanah-hummanah” right now. But since I’m a flesh-and-blood human, I just stare at Josh, my chest rising and falling with my sudden arousal.

Josh grins. “So don’t say I didn’t want you to find out. Big difference. Okay?”

I nod, my eyes wide. I want to tackle him. Lick him. Kiss him from head to toe. Suck his dick . But I don’t move a muscle.

Josh settles into a chair and moves the Scrabble pieces around on the table.

“Now pick your fucking tiles so we can play the game.” He picks up the directions sheet from the box and studies it while I continue staring at him like a wide-mouth bass.

“It says here each player picks seven tiles,” he says .

My crotch is burning. My nipples are hard. That was the most incredible speech any man has ever given me—and he wasn’t even buzzed or high or enacting some sort of fantasy role-play when he said it.

“We’re seriously gonna play Scrabble right now?” I manage to say. My cheeks feel hot. My clit is buzzing. All I want to do is fuck the crap out of him.

“Yup. Sit the fuck down, Party Girl. We’re gonna test my theory that you and I can have fun doing literally anything.

Since playing Scrabble is my idea of the seventh circle of hell, I figure if we can have fun doing this, then I’ll have empirically proven once and for all we can have fun doing anything.

And if we can have fun doing anything, then I also will have empirically proven I’m not Garrett Bennetting you.

” He rolls his eyes with disdain. “Which, by the way, still pisses me off that you’d even think that for a minute. ”

I open my mouth to speak, but close it again.

Josh claps his hands like he’s commanding a puppy. “Now, come on, Party Girl, sit down and pick your fucking tiles. Time to get your tight little ass whooped.”

I sit down across the table from him and stare at him blankly.

“Pick seven tiles,” Josh says, motioning to the scattered game pieces on the table.

I make a face like he’s a total dork, but I do as I’m told.

After I’ve got my tiles lined up on my rack, I look up, blankly. “Okay,” I say.

Josh’s gorgeous blue eyes are fixed on me intensely. “Go ahead,” he says, motioning to the table. “Play Scrabble.”

“‘Play Scrabble’?” I say. “I’ve never played this game before. I have no idea what to do.”

“You’ve never played Scrabble?” he says, incredulous.

“We always played cards and video games at my house—not board games. You go ahead and I’ll just do whatever you do.”

Josh grabs the directions sheet off the table in a huff. “Well, shit. I dunno what the fuck to do—I’ve never played Scrabble, either. I thought you’d know, growing up in a real family, and all.”

I bite my lip, trying not to smile.

Josh scans the directions for a moment, obviously completely annoyed.

“Jesus, Kat, I figured you’d played all the board games.

” He reads again for a long moment. “Okay, well, it looks ridiculously simple. Seems like we just lay tiles on the board to spell words and rack up points for the letters. Nothing to it.”

“Okay. You go first,” I say.

Josh pauses briefly, considering the tiles on his rack, and then lays down three letters: D-U-M .

“Dum?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t have ‘B-S-H-I-T’ on my rack,” he says. His eyes flicker with apology. “I was a total dumbshit for not telling you about Seattle,” he says softly.

I nod emphatically. “Yeah, you were.”

“I know—I just said that,” he says. “Okay, that’s six points for me. It’s your turn.”

I assess the seven tiles on my rack and lay down three: A-S-S . “I don’t have ‘H-O-L-E,’” I say, smirking. “How many points does that get me?”

Josh is clearly stifling a smile.

“Come on,” I say. “How many points?”

Josh looks at the directions again. “Three. But I think you should be awarded triple points for being one hundred percent right.”

“Agreed. Okay, your turn,” I say, jutting my chin at him. “Play Scrabble, Josh.”

“I think I’m supposed to pick three more tiles to replace the ones I already played,” he says. He picks up the directions sheet again. “Yeah. It says here we both pick tiles to replace the ones we’ve played.”

We each pick three additional tiles and, after brief consideration, Josh lays his new word onto the board: W-O-O.

“Woo?” I ask. “Like ‘woo-hoo!’?”

“No. Like, ‘ woo ,’” he says. “Like ‘I’m gonna woo you, Miss Katherine’—like, you know, old timey wooing .” He flashes a charming smile. “As in, ‘You better brace yourself, Miss Katherine, because I’m gonna woo the fucking shit out of you.’”

“Oh my goodness, sir. You’re gonna woo me shitless ?”

“Yes, I am, m’lady.”

“Well, sir, I’m not completely sure I’m ready to be wooed shitless, to be perfectly honest. What would people say?”

“You don’t get to decide. You’re gettin’ wooed shitless whether you like it or not. ”

My pulse is pounding in my ears.

“Okay. Quit stalling,” Josh says. He motions to the game board again. “It’s your turn. Play Scrabble, Kat.”

I bite my lip and look at my tiles, considering my move. But none of the letters on my rack are calling to me, so I begin rearranging the tiles Josh used to spell W-O-O.

“No, babe, you’re supposed to use new tiles from your—” Josh begins, but he abruptly stops talking when he sees the word I’ve spelled with his tiles.

“Ow,” I say softly, reading the new word I’ve created.

Josh’s face twists with what appears to be sincere remorse.

“You really hurt my feelings, Josh,” I say. “I felt totally rejected—like I’m in this relationship all by myself.”

Josh opens his mouth to speak but apparently thinks the better of it. He begins furiously peeking at the down-facing tiles on the table, apparently looking for something specific, and when he’s found his desired tiles, he lays a word onto the game board: S-O-R-R-A.

“Sorra?” I ask.

Josh shrugs. “I couldn’t find a ‘Y.’”

I bite my lower lip, simultaneously amused and touched.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” Josh says softly. “I didn’t tell you about Seattle because there’s something wrong with me —not because there’s something wrong with you .

You’re perfect in every way. I just... ” He looks up at the ceiling, apparently searching for the right words.

“I just fucked up, that’s all,” he finally says matter-of-factly.

“Because I’m fucked up—more than you know.

” He pauses. “More than I even realized.”

I bite my lip and nod.