“He’s a pirate! He’s used to pillaging and murdering! I’m not sure that consent is on his radar!” “And that makes it okay?” he asks, still laughing at my attempts to get the book. “No—definitely not. In real life I’d be horrified. But this is a book. And books are…different.” That last word comes out like a grunt as I manage to latch onto the book and valiantly rip it from his hand. I hold it over my head—breathing like I just finished a triathlon. I smile victoriously. “You lose!” And then we both realize I’m straddling him.
