Trying to keep my expression neutral and not spit fire at my pretend husband, I say, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What?” he asks.
“I don’t want to go have s’mores with them.”
“Why not?” he asks. “S’mores are good. Have you ever had one?”
“Of course I’ve had one. My God, Wilder.”
“Sorry. It’s just surprising you don’t want one.”
“This is not about the s’mores. This is about not wanting to spend time with my coworkers.”
“Oh, well, we don’t have to talk to them. We can construct our s’mores and then peace out.” Leaning in close, he says, “One thing you need to know about me: I have a sweet tooth, and my night is not complete without a little something sweet.”
“We have Nerds Clusters in the cabin. We could have had those.”
He shakes his head as if he’s really thought about this. “Those are not an after-dinner treat. Those are in-between-scheduled-event treats. We must savor and hold on to those as much as we can. If something like s’mores is offered to us, we must take it and hoard the Nerds Clusters for a day when no treats are offered.”
“Why are you this way?” I ask, hand on my hip.
“I wish I had an answer for you.” He loops his arm over my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s roast some marshmallows and melt some chocolate.”
“Okay, but we’re not staying, and we’re not getting friendly with them. We’re taking care of business, and then we’re leaving. Understood?”
“Got it,” he says, and then we head out of the dining hall and toward the firepit, where everyone is circled around the flames in chairs. There’s Brad, Duncan, Chad, and Finky and their respective partners—my living nightmare. Sort of surprised Ellison didn’t join the group. Then again, she seems to wander off with Sanders after dinner is served and they’ve done their theater production for the night. By the way, it was a reenactment ofSpace Jamtonight. The acting was so terrible that I almost lost my appetite.
Wilder, on the other hand, clapped louder than anyone in the room when they were done. Wasn’t sure if he was clapping because the torture was over or if it was because he truly enjoyedthe show. I wouldn’t put it past him if he found the whole skit utterly entertaining.
“There they are,” Chad says and then motions to an Adirondack chair next to him. “I saved you two a seat to share.”
Of course he did. I can already tell you right now, I want to leave. I haven’t even sat down yet, and I want nothing more than to go back to the cabin and wash the day away.
Wilder though…
“Thanks, my man,” Wilder says as he takes a seat first and pulls me down on his lap. His hand finds my hip, and he tugs me in tight.
With a smirk that could actually make skin crawl, Chad hands us a stick with a marshmallow already attached to it. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Wilder wastes no time and hovers the marshmallow over the flame as Chad’s wife hands us a plate with the makings of two s’mores.
“Now that everyone is here,” Finky says, “let’s get the game going.”
Pardon? I didn’t sign up for a game.
“Game?” I ask, looking around.
“Yeah,” Chad says with a grin. “We’re going to play Never Have I Ever.”
What are we, in high school? We are grown adults; we don’t play games like this anymore. Of course this is what the frat bros want to play.
Then again, we are missing one key factor.
“Uh, don’t you need drinks for that?” I ask, because if I’m forced to play this game with my coworkers, I’m really going to need a drink.
“This is the virgin version,” Chad says.
I’m going to tell you right now, if I had a boner, that shit would go flaccid immediately from that one sentence.
