I love living on the docks, being out on the water all the time. The sea is unpredictable and wild, and I love everything about her.
Even if Winston hadn’t let me crash on his couch, I would have stayed in this town anyway. The moment I crossed the city limits, I knew this was where I was meant to be, and it had everything to do with the ocean.
Since planting my ass on Winston’s sofa, I’m the most content I’ve ever been. I don’t have much to complain about.
A roof over my head? Check. Steady work? Check. Friends I know would do anything for me? Check.
I’m good. Life is good.
Finally.
“Not yet,” I tell Porter, “but I’ve talked with him a few times. He seems down to earth. Kind of nerdy, maybe a little crazy.”
“Crazy?”
“Either he’s crazy or I’m going crazy. I heard a lot of goats in the background.”
Porter laughs. “Don’t worry, your sanity is intact. The dude has a thing for pygmy goats and will not stop adopting them. Dory keeps asking me to steal one every time I meet up with him to talk security measures.”
“She’s insane if she thinks she can handle a goat, Kyrie, and you.”
Porter tips his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at Winston. “Did Foster not smack you around enough and you’re that desperate for another beating?”
“I want to go on record that I am in support of you beating my son’s ass. He could probably use a good whoopin’.”
Simon appears, tray in hand. He slides it onto the table and distributes chocolate milk to each of us.
“The hell is this?” Winston frowns down at the beverage.
“If you act like children, you’ll get served the same as children,” his father tells him.
“Your daughter once pulled this same shit,” Foster comments.
“Where do you think she got it from?” Simon asks.
Porter lifts his glass to his mouth, smirking. “Joke’s on you. I love chocolate milk.”
“What? No bendy straws?” Winston gripes, sulking with his arms crossed over his chest.
Simon plucks a straw from his pocket—then proceeds to snap it in half. We all hear the telltale pop.
“The hell… You broke it! How am I supposed to use it now?”
“Figure it out.” Simon turns his wrathful eyes on me.
I raise a challenging brow, not scared in the least. “Yes?”
“Just waiting on a smartass comment. The rest of the peanut gallery had something to say.”
I chuckle, lifting my glass. “Thank you.”
“That right there”—he points at me—“is why you’re my favorite, Sully.”
“I’m your son. I should be your favorite.”
“It’s for that very reason you’re my least favorite. I’ve spent way too many years with you already. I need a change.”
“That’s not how parenting works!” Winston complains to his retreating back. “God, I love that old asshole,” he mutters, stealing Foster’s straw from his cup.
“Dude!” Foster tries to snatch the stolen straw back, but Winston smacks his hand away. Foster growls. “I fucking swear, Winston…”
“Boys, boys, boys. We don’t need a repeat of your pitiful fight,” I say. “Just take a deep breath. Cleanse yourselves.”
Winston rolls his eyes, sighing. “Here we go with the hippie shit.”
Being roommates, Winston had a front-row seat for me being “in tune” with people and situations. Though I’ve never lied about the feelings I get, I’ve played up the hippie stuff just to annoy him.
Except I do meditate. That part isn’t a lie. I started doing it when I first moved here and put the bottle down. It’s helped me sort through all the shit in my mind regarding my parents. I was wound a little tight when I first arrived, but now it’s all in the past. I’ve learned to not put myself in situations that will trigger a spiral, and that’s exactly why I’ve only been home twice since my father was released from prison.
“Anyway,” he says pointedly, “we still on for our barbeque this weekend?”
“Dory and I are in. We already planned a sleepover for Kyrie.” Porter grins. “I’ll bring the tequila.”
“Fuck yes.” Foster rubs his hands together excitedly.
Porter laughs. “Try not to get naked this time, okay?”
“Him? How about you try not to get naked? You’re the one always getting super fucked up and trying to bang your girl in other people’s bathrooms,” Winston argues.
“I was sober when that happened!”
“Great. Now multiply your horniness by ten and that’s you when you’ve been drinking tequila.” He rolls his eyes. “Take it you and Wren are in, then?” Winston asks.
“Always,” Foster answers. “Nellie is gonna hang with Grandpa. We already have it planned.”
“Excellent. It sounds like we’re all getting fucked up, then. Dad’s taking Riker, too.” Winston turns to me. “You in?”
“Do I want to sit around and watch these two morons compete and see who can get into the most drunken trouble? Yes.” I nod. “Definitely yes.”
“That’s what I thought.” He laughs. “Hey, did you guys hear Jonas Schwartz is back? He’s getting married next month, too, to Pastor Callahan’s daughter.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around that one.” Foster shakes his head. “A pro baller, from our little town—who would have thought?”
“A pro baller and a fucking billionaire, who we know.” Winston raises his brows. “Wrap your head around that one.”
“If it makes it easier for you, I don’t claim to know you guys most of the time,” Porter says.
“Damn, man. I remember when the coolest thing about this town was Slice.”
“Wow, Foster. And to think you were my favorite,” Simon says, settling our pizzas onto the risers in the middle of the table.
“You just said I was your favorite,” I say.
Simon shrugs. “A man can change his mind.”
“Thank you!” Foster shouts. “Now, will you tell your daughter that? I told her we couldn’t get another dog because it would just be too much with the baby, but I found the cutest puppy at the shelter and he’s named Jim. Jim! Do you know how perfect that is for us? We already have Mike and Prison. We’re Office fans—we have to rescue him before anyone else can snatch him up.”
“You want to add another dog to your already stuffed-to-the-gills house? I thought you were just complaining about your lack of sex life as it is now. I can’t imagine adding a puppy to that circus would be smart,” Porter tells him.
Simon groans. “What the hell did I tell you about mentioning anything sex-related in my presence?”
“That’s why I was trying to kick his ass,” Winston tells his dad.
“I’m sorry I ever stopped you, son. Proceed.”
The word barely leaves Simon’s mouth before Winston smacks Foster just like he did earlier.
“Hey, you dick!” Foster rubs his cheek. “That one hurt!”
“Good. Now that that’s out of the way…” Simon turns to me. A sly grin stretches across his lips, and my senses go off. “Your girlfriend’s here. I’m surprised you’re not over there. Trouble in paradise already?”
I sit up. “Thea’s here?”
I know the mistake I’ve made as soon as the words leave my mouth. I close my eyes, wanting to crawl into a hole and pretend I never said it, because of course my reaction piques everyone’s interest.
Foster and Porter drop the slices of pizza they were grabbing for, their heads swiveling my way.
Winston leans across the table, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Is she your girlfriend?” He raises his brows. “Or bed buddy?”
I peel my eyes open. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re not acting like it’s nothing.” His lips pull into a toothy grin. “Are you holding out on us, dude? Do you have a girlfriend you haven’t told us about?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me
if that’s the case,” Foster says. “Guy’s a fucking steel trap.” He snorts. “He could work for the CIA he’s so damn good at keeping shit secret.”
“Foster touches himself to furry and cartoon porn. I caught him once when he was staying with me and Winston.”
“What the fuck, Sully?!”
“How’s that for keeping secrets?” I smirk at him.
Winston wrinkles his nose at his friend. “We definitely need to talk about the furry porn, but what kind of cartoon porn? Like anime shit? Because that’s not that weird.”
“No. Those cartoon pornos of various TV show characters getting impaled by giant dicks. Think Lois Griffin or Velma or Linda Belcher.”
“Real talk, Linda’s kind of hot,” Porter says. “But those pornos are creepy as shit. The dicks are just so”—he makes a circle with his fingers—“big.”
Foster points at me, seething. “You’re a dead man.”
“I consider you four to be sons, and I just learned way too much about all of you.” Simon shakes his head, then looks at me again. “Anyway, just thought you’d maybe want to go say hi to your girl since you’ve come in here every day looking for her.”
My eyes widen, and he laughs.
“I know you like my pizza, but not that much. Plus, it was really funny when you ordered a dessert pizza, then looked around like she would come running at the sound of sugar.”
I glare at him, because I didn’t look that desperate, I’m sure.
Simon beams at me, enjoying my response like a dad embarrassing his kid. “Well, hope you boys enjoy your breakfast. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
He takes a few steps away, then turns around.
“Oh, and Sully?” He points to the other side of the restaurant. “Table six.”
Like I’m some dog he commanded, I stand.
Porter and Foster make obnoxious noises I can’t quite decipher, my focus solely on my mission.
“Who is Thea to you?” Winston asks again.
“A girl.”
“No shit,” he says. “But who is she to you?”
I cast a glance back at him. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
Slice Five
Thea
“What’s that on your shirt?”
“Seriously, Dad?” I pucker my lips in annoyance. “I’m not a little kid anymore. No way I’m falling for that just so you can flick my nose.”
He grins, lifting his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
“What is taking your brother and Frankie so long?” My mother tries to peek over the back of the curved booth we’re in, but she’s too short to see anything. I feel her pain. Unlike Jonas, I did not inherit my dad’s height. I got stuck with the short legs from my mom.
My dad peers around, then sighs. “Shit. They were stopped by Blythe and Randy. Those two chatterboxes will keep them for hours if someone doesn’t step in.” He tosses his menu down and pushes to his feet. “I’ll go rescue them.”
“Don’t tell your dad,” Mom says as soon as he’s out of earshot, “but that Randy is a looker. He can stop and talk to me for hours.” She waggles her brows.
“You hussy!”
“Oh, please. You know I’m head over heels in love with your father. The things that man can do to—”
“I swear to god, Mother”—I hold my hand up—“if you finish that sentence with anything even remotely sexual, I will scream.”
She tucks her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I was going to say to my heart with one look, but it’s interesting to know your mind went directly to something sexual. It means you’re thinking about sex.” She smirks. “Courtesy of your new boyfriend, perhaps? How’s that going?”
Just great, Mom. He hardly ever talks and doesn’t smother me with affection because—oh yeah, he doesn’t exist.
I can’t break her heart with a truth bomb like that. She worries about me being too overloaded with the shop and never finding true love like she and my father did.
Truth is, I wouldn’t mind finding someone to spend the little spare time I do have with. I’m just not seeking it out because I know it’ll be nearly impossible to find someone willing to put up with my hours when we’re so low on manpower. When I signed on to be the manager for the second location of Schwartz Auto, I didn’t realize it would be this exhausting. I get now why my dad was always coming home late, always missing dinners and working on the weekends. We’re the only shop on the island. It’s great because we have no competition, but that’s just it—it’s just us. When we’re busy, it’s all hands on deck, so managerial stuff gets put aside, and that leaves me coming to Slice on the weekends to catch up. We’re finally rounding out the end of the tourist season, so we should be slowing down soon. I can’t wait—this summer has been brutal.
Much to my chagrin, my love life—or even just hooking up—is on the backburner.
This is damn unfortunate because my window to find a date for my brother’s wedding is getting smaller by the day.
I need a date for the shindig. I can’t show up alone, especially now that I’ve insisted on being marked down for a plus-one.
I smile brightly, aiming for the dopiest totally-in-love grin I can muster. “Things are…” I sigh to sell it. “Amazing. He’s amazing.”
“Good. I was worried the asshole might have done a number on your heart and put you off dating for good.”
I bark out a laugh when she calls him the asshole.
When Jaden and I split, I found out rather quickly that my parents abhorred him. When I ran to my mom with a broken heart as a snotty, ugly mess and told her what happened, she responded with “Halle-fucking-lujah!” then popped open a bottle of wine.
At eight AM.
“You and Dad worry about me too much.”
“Ha!” She sniffs. “We’re your parents. It’s our job to worry about you.”
“Yeah, but you guys are like…a little too invested.”
She lowers her menu—not sure why she’s bothering with it since we’ve been coming here since I was born—and eyes me. “I’m sorry for caring too much. I’ll knock that right off.”
“Now you’re just being annoying.” I poke my tongue out at her.
She retaliates by swatting at me with her menu and I try to dodge her advances, but for being so damn small, she’s got quite the reach on her.
Before I know it, I’m tipping over the edge of the booth in my efforts to get away.
Just when I’m certain I’m about to eat it in the middle of Slice, two strong arms wrap around me, saving me from a fall.
The scent of fresh ocean air and bergamot overwhelms my senses as the stranger rights me. I work to shove my wild hair from my face, wanting to get a glimpse of my hero.
“Oh my god. I almost ate it. Th—” The words die on my lips as I look up to see my savior. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Thea!” my mother scolds.
Sully chuckles, shaking his head. He crosses his arms over his chest, puts one leg over the other, and leans against the side of the booth, looking down at me. He’s so tall I arch back to get a good look at him. He’s wearing a faded orange shirt with some sort of fishing logo on it, and it stretches across his body, hugging it perfectly. He has that same cap from before pulled down on his head, and I kind of want to reach up and snatch it off. I want to see his hair. “I believe what you meant was Thank you.”
“No, no. I meant Shut the fuck up. What are you doing here?”
“Oh jeez,” Mom mutters, hiding her face behind her hands, clearly embarrassed by my lack of manners, but…seriously?
Of all the days for Sully and me to run into each other at Slice, it’s today…when my entire family is here.
Kill me now.
“I was hungry. And it might sound a little crazy, but they serve food here.”
That smirk of his I hate as much as I love appears across his lips. He looks so cool and collected as he stands above me, like he’s completely unaffected by my presence.
Me? Oh, I’m affected all right.
He’s toying with me like he did last time, flirting and smirking and looking all hot. Then he’ll follow it up with disappearing and never calling, just like he did last time.
I narrow my gaze, and my mom snorts out a laugh.
She looks at me but points to Sully. “I like him. He doesn’t take your shit. Who is he?”
Sully pushes off the booth, turning his charming grin on my mother. His smile is so bright against his tanned skin, proving he spends a hell of a lot of time out in the sun.
“Mrs. Schwartz, I presume?” He sticks his hand out.
My mother’s lips twitch as she glances between me and Sully, sliding her hand into his. “Yes, and you are?”
“I’m Sullivan.”
“Sullivan,” she says, giving his hand a slow shake before pulling back. Her eyes find mine, and there’s no mistaking the sparkle in them. She likes him. She likes the idea of me and him. She thinks he could be my Harvey. “And how do you know my Thea?”
“Oh, we met—”
“He’s my boyfriend!”
I don’t know why I blurt it out.
But it’s done.
Judging by the ecstatic grin stretching across my mother’s lips, she’s happy to hear it.
“Well then.” She turns her megawatt smile to my new “boyfriend.” “Sullivan, it’s lovely to meet you.”
“Please, call me Sully, ma’am. After all, you are my”—he looks at me, that smirk right back in its place—“girlfriend’s mother.”
I’m sorry, I mouth. Just go with it.
He gives his head a single imperceptible shake.
“And you can call me Letica. None of that ma’am nonsense—makes me feel old.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You should join us for breakfast, Sully.” My mother practically bounces in her seat at the idea of it. “Harvey, Thea’s father, will be back any moment.”
Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5) Page 5
