One more reason this is a bad idea.
But I don’t know who else to talk to.
She grabs a die and hands me the other. “Roll to see who goes first.”
“You can go first.”
“There’s no chivalry in Monopoly. Roll the die.”
“If you’re planning to make me cry before we’re done with this game, you’re about to find yourself sorely disappointed.”
She smirks and rolls.
And gets a six.
A fuckingsix.
I roll and get a one.
If I wanted an auspicious sign, that was not it.
“I choose to let you go first,” she says.
“This isn’t a coin toss. You don’t get to pick who goes first when you roll highest. You go first.”
Her golden eyes dance with mischief. “If you’re not brave enough, that’s fine. I’ll go first.”
“I’m brave enough.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m also a fucking gentleman. Roll the damn dice. Also, I’m the car.”
“I like being the Titanic, so that’s fine.” She’s grinning as she rolls the dice, andare you fucking kidding me?
A seven.
She rolls a seven. Lands onchance. And gets a freakingget out of jail freecard.
“Your turn.”
She passes me the dice. Her fingers brush my skin as she deposits them in my palm, and a shiver races up my arm.
I roll a five.
Fuck yeah.
Railroad. Ilivefor owning all four railroads in this game.
Goldie dives for the stack of property cards. “Who likes you on the team?” she asks.
“That’s your question?”
“That’s my question.”
“For arailroad?”
“Mm-hmm.”
