by Bailey B
Kelly is on Sam like white on rice before I can make it around the front of my truck. Sam would have fucked her right there in the parking lot, but that’s not cool. Kelly may be easy, but she still deserves some semblance of privacy.
“Y’all wanna use my—”
They climb into the back before I can finish getting the words out. Shaking my head, I make my way over to Kelly’s car. Knowing her, she left it unlocked and running for a quick get-in-get-out kind of thing.
Opening the passenger door, I have every intention of laying the seat back and closing my eyes. This ain’t my first rodeo with those two; this little sexcapade could last a while.
The overhead light clicks on when the door opens and my breath catches in my chest. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen is sleeping in the driver’s seat. Something inside of me shifts. The need to talk to this girl and make a good impression consumes me. She opens one eye and looks up. Realizing the light must have woken her, I tip my hat and slip in the passenger seat so the light can click off.
“Hey there.” Fucking, hell. What am I, sixty? Who talks like this? Why can’t I be normal and just say hi.
The girl doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t smile, but her gaze darts over to me a few times. Maybe I can save this. “You’re pretty.”
“Thanks.” She looks out the window towards my truck.
I stare at her, waiting for her to look at me again. One second. Two seconds. Four seconds. Shit.
There’s no other choice. I have to pull out my go-to line. It’s a hook, line, and sinker every time. “I’m a bull rider.”
It all starts with her eyes. They find me first, and then her head turns. A fraction of a second later, the corners of her mouth lift into a small but noticeable smirk.
There’s a sweet satisfaction knowing that I’ve broken through her façade, but all I want is to taste those lips. I’d probably be useless for anything else tonight. Gotta love Jack Daniels.
I lean closer and her scent makes my head swim. Flashing my best smile, I say again, “I’m a bull rider.”
The girl laughs and shakes her head. If I hadn’t drank a fifth of whiskey, I might be offended, but I find her resistance endearing. Most of the girls around here throw themselves at me, but not this one. The fact that she doesn’t want me makes me want her even more. One way or another, I will win her over.
She turns her head, bringing her gaze to mine. It’s too dark to tell what color her eyes are but I bet they’re beautiful. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I don’t see him here tonight.” I reach my hand out and touch her cheek. I stare at her lips, unable to think about anything else. Most of the girls I screw around with taste like beer. I’d put money on it that this one doesn’t. I’m guessing she’ll taste like cherry because of the Chapstick in the center console.
The overhead light clicks on, blinding me. My eyes are slow to adjust but when they do, I open the passenger door, stand, and watch this chick cross the parking lot.
She pounds her fist against the side of my truck, a move that would have gotten her face beaten if she were a dude. “I swear to god, Kelly, if you aren’t in your car in one minute, I’m leaving without you.”
“Get up, bitch, we’re going to the beach.”
I groan and pull the blanket over my head. My whole body aches and I didn’t have one drop of alcohol last night.
I’m an eight hours of sleep kind of girl, and judging by how shitty I feel, I’d say I got five at best. How Kelly is functioning at full speed after getting rip-roaring drunk is beyond me. My blanket is ripped from my body and I am forced to open my eyes.
“You can borrow this.” Kelly tosses a bikini at my feet then turns back to the mirror on her dresser and continues to line her eyes.
I pick the hot pink strings up and wonder, How do these scraps cover anything? I’ve worn bikinis before, I have a drawer full back home, but all of them have more fabric than this.
“I should get going. My Aunt Tricia is probably wondering where I am.”
“She’s not.” Kelly caps her eye pencil and opens a tube of mascara. “Mom said you were staying with us until tomorrow. I figure, if I’ve got to babysit you, the least we can do is get you in the sun so you don’t look like you crawled out of a coffin for tonight’s party.”
The weekend?
Please tell me this is some sort of paralleled-reality-nightmare. I shove my hand under the pillow and search for my phone. When I find it, there’s an unread message from my aunt.
AT: Status update.
“I...um...I’m gonna step outside and make a quick phone call.”
Kelly doesn’t acknowledge me as I walk out of her room. I pause in the hallway and look around. Her house is designed where a living room/dining room combo separates the master bedroom from the other two rooms in the house. I unlock her sliding glass door and the moment her three Yorkies hear that click, they’re at my feet, ready to go out.
“Sorry, little guys.” I push them back then close the slider. I don’t want to be responsible for losing her dogs or, better yet, have to run this early in the morning because they escaped.
Sitting in one of the plastic chairs, I open my recent calls and click AT. It only rings twice before she answers with, “How was last night?”
“Good, I guess. No one got arrested and I’m pretty sure Kelly isn’t pregnant.”
Talking to Aunt Tricia has always been awkward. Be it FaceTime or voice calls, our conversations are filled with long pauses and curt answers. It’s part of the reason I prefer to text, but Aunt Tricia is old school. Even if the conversation only lasts a minute or two, she’s a ‘hear your voice’ kind of person.
“Keep it that way until after the fundraiser tomorrow and we’ll be set.”
I didn’t expect words of praise from my aunt, but they would have been nice to hear. So would a warning that I was expected to stay the weekend in this podunk town. “About that. Kelly said I’m staying the night again?”
“Don’t be such a child, Layla,” my aunt scolds.
I hear her morning mimosa clank against the sunroom’s glass table. I’m surprised she isn't at work yet. With the teen shelter fundraiser tomorrow, she should be at the venue overseeing the setup and confirming the final menu with the caterers. I look at the phone, noting it's already nine. Odd.
“I just—”
Click.
Aunt Tricia hangs up, not caring enough to hear how I would be of better use in Orlando, helping to put the finishing touches on my first ever fundraiser before heading back home. Instead I’m stuck in the tiny town of Sebastian with a chick I don’t know, no clothes of my own, and a dying phone.
The patio door slides open. Kelly pokes her head out and scowls. “You’re not dressed yet?”
She rolls her eyes and slips back into the house. I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. This is going to be a long weekend.
I hide under the shade of Kelly's pink and white Walmart umbrella. My skin hurts, physically hurts, because we’ve been sitting on the beach for hours and there are parts of me that are seeing the sun for the first time.
Ever.
We don’t have beaches where I live, just large lakes surrounded by grass and cream-colored dirt. I have a pool in my backyard, but it’s nothing compared to this. The sand down here is a blinding white, reflecting the sun’s rays, essentially turning the world into an oven and me into its roast.
“Can we leave yet?” I touch my arm and wince. A white circle appears and then disappears on my rose colored skin. I passed tan an hour ago and have gone full blown lobster. “I think I’m burning.”
“Seriously?” Kelly tilts her sunglasses so I can see her brown eyes roll. I don't think she wants me to be here any more than I do. “Don’t you know anything? Beaches are an all day thing. Besides, I need at least another forty-five minutes if I want my skin to keep its golden glow.”
I groan and grab a water bottle from her cooler bag, crossing my legs and try
ing to hide in as much of the shade as possible. Unlike Kelly, who seems to turn shades of brown instead of red, too much more of this and I'm going to look like an onion: a peeling mess. The perfect souvenir from Florida.
Kelly’s phone dings. She rolls onto her side to read the message, smiles briefly, then says, “We have company.”
I look up and notice a group of people walking towards us; one girl seemingly leading three guys. Kelly climbs to her feet and brushes the sand off her ass. She emits a high pitched squeal that makes me cringe, then runs towards the girl in a flowing white dress.
Kelly wraps her arms around the girl's neck until the tattooed guy says something. I can’t hear what it is, but she flips him the middle finger. They walk over to our spot and Kelly resumes her place on her towel again. “So, guys, this is Layla. Mom says I have to babysit her this weekend.”
I bite my tongue and force myself to smile. If anyone needs a babysitter around here, it’s Kelly. She’s about as responsible as a six-year-old in a candy store with a pocket full of cash before dinner.
The girl in the white dress drops her aqua, ‘be a mermaid and make waves,’ beach bag and extends her hand. “I’m Hattie.”
“Layla.”
“Like the song by Eric Clapton?” The tattooed guy, who aggravated Kelly, hands a dark-haired guy an umbrella. That one refuses to look at me, focusing all of his attention on burying the metal post in the sand. I nod and the tattooed one adds. “Cool. I’m Landon.”
“It’s a good song,” a blonde guy says. He looks vaguely familiar and I wonder, Was he at one of the parties Kelly dragged me to last night? “I’m Sam and this fucker over here is Josh.”
Sam hooks his arm around Josh's neck and rubs his fist into Josh’s dark hair like he would if Josh was an eight-year-old kid. They wrestle, like brothers do, until they fall to the sand. Sam releases Josh and they laugh like this is an everyday occurrence.
I take in each guy as they arrange themselves on the sand. All of them are beautiful, but it’s Josh my attention is drawn to most. Sure, he’s handsome in that classic, boy next door kind of way, with his dark brown hair and caramel colored eyes, but there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on. Sam may look like someone I’ve met before, but Josh feels familiar.
Sam lays his towel beside mine which earns me a scowl from Kelly, but I could care less. I’m not interested in her sloppy seconds. “So, what brings you to our neck of the woods?”
I don’t make a habit of telling people that my aunt is Tricia Collins. Her name carries weight in the right circles and while I doubt anyone here knows who she is, I’d rather not earn favoritism or criticism by association. “I’m visiting from Georgia to work at a nonprofit organization with my aunt.”
Not a lie. Just not the whole truth. Besides, the chances of running into any of these people beyond this weekend are slim to none.
“That’a a horrible way to spend Spring Break. What are you, thirty?” Kelly grumbles. She rolls onto her back and throws her arm over her eyes. I hope she gets a white tan line across her face!
“Ignore her.” Hattie lays a giant blanket in front of me then rolls onto her belly.
The tattooed guy, Landon, slaps her ass. She narrows her eyes at him, then giggles. Josh has taken a seat in the furthest shaded spot away from me. I bring my gaze to the horizon, not sure what else to say. No one is asking me questions and I’m not about to voluntarily spill my guts.
“Dude.” Landon reaches into his cooler and throws a chunk of ice at Josh. “Stop staring, you'll scare her away.”
Hattie backhands Landon across the chest. He gives her a look then adds, “I’m just saying, he looks like a creeper.”
Hattie groans, then rolls into a seated position and twists the cap off her water bottle. “Ignore him.” She takes a sip then sets it in the sand beside her. “In fact, ignore all of them. They’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” She climbs to her feet and pulls her dress off, revealing a teal cutout one piece. “Come on, let’s go swimming.”
The thought of exposing myself to the sun anymore than I already have makes my stomach twist. Adding third degree burns because I’m trying to keep up with people I don’t care about does not sound like my idea of fun.
Nevertheless, I put my best face forward and pretend to be excited that I was invited, while remorseful to decline. If they had been here an hour ago, I probably would have said yes. Hattie seems nice, so does Landon and Sam. Jury’s still out on Josh. “I think I’ll stay here.”
Hattie smiles in acknowledgment then strides towards the shore with Landon close behind. The moment Sam climbs to his feet, Kelly’s up and chasing after him, which leaves me and Josh alone and, for some reason, that makes me nervous.
“Your shoulders are red.” Josh points at my angry skin.
It’s not just my shoulders that are burnt, my arms, neck, and back are too. The spaghetti strap dress Kelly loaned me isn’t helping the situation either.
Josh shrugs his yellow short-sleeve tee off and holds it out to me. “Here, I doubt it will keep you from peeling, but it should help.”
“Thanks.” I slip the shirt over my head and fight a grimace as it touches my skin.
When my brother, Colson, gives me his shirt—or any of his friends for that matter—it’s tossed at me, like I’m a nuisance. Josh, on the other hand, acts like giving me the shirt off his back is second nature. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel weird giving it a sniff as it slips past my nose and to my shoulders.
“Listen, um, I’m sorry about last night.” He leans over the edge of the blanket and grabs a handful of sand then sifts the grains through his fingers, building a tiny collapsing castle by his feet.
“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” I tell him honestly. The worst thing he’s done is avoid eye contact when he first got here. If anything, it was strange, not bad.
Josh smirks, his shoulders lifting with a tiny laugh as he meets my gaze. I like his eyes. At first glance they’re nothing more than brown, but when you look closely, they’re the color of honey with gold swirls and, in the right light, some green pigmentation. “You had that many drunk guys hitting on you last night?”
I don’t know whether to be flattered that Josh thinks I garnered that much attention or offended. My jaw falls open, not sure how to respond. I mean, I did have a handful of guys flirt with me, but I think they assumed I was promiscuous, like Kelly. Once I threw it out there that I had a boyfriend and would not be indulging in their fantasies, they all backed off.
All but one.
“It’s okay,” he continues. “I don’t blame those guys, you’re beautiful, but for the record I was the babbling idiot who made a fool of himself in the church parking lot last night.”
“Oh,” I say, finally realizing how I know him and Sam. “You were there when Kelly and Sam… you know.”
Josh laughs again this time it’s a little lighter. The sound makes me grin, and his smirk stretches wider. He has a nice smile, accented by his jawline. “Yeah, Kelly and Sam have an on-again, off-again, open relationship of sorts. Sam likes to keep things open.”
“Like her legs?” I cover my hand with my mouth, not meaning to have said that out loud. “Oh. My. Gosh.”
“You’re right.” Josh guffaws. “There’s a reason why I’ve never touched Kelly like that, and never will.”
Knowing that he’s never hooked up with Kelly is oddly satisfying. We could never be a thing, I live too far away, and we just met, but still. If the sun and moon aligned and the opportunity presented itself, I’m not sure I’d take it if he had jumped on the Kelly-wagon. “So, how do you all know each other?”
Josh smiles and I’ve noticed he does that a lot. The guy generally seems happy and not weighed down by the world. All of his friends seem to have missed the we’re-going-about-to-be-grownups-get-your-life-together memo. Or if they did get it, they’re in a place where they don’t care. Either way, I’m a little jealous.
“Landon
and I have been friends since grade school. Hattie came around when they started dating a few months ago. I didn’t like the idea because she’s a junior, but her parents are cool with it, so who am I to judge?”
“Is he that much older?” I glance at the water. Hattie, Landon, Sam, and Kelly are gathered in almost a circle. They’re laughing at something Landon said, oblivious we’re talking about them. Looking at the group, I never would have guessed Hattie is a year younger than me. She carries herself with confidence, it makes her look older.
“Landon failed kindergarten and third grade. So, even though we graduated together a couple of years ago, he’s already almost twenty-three.”
My dad would kill him. He’s told me for as long as I can remember that I can’t get married until I’m thirty. I can only imagine how he’d react if I brought an older, tattooed man home.
“Sam and my brother, Bret, played on the same t-ball team, which is how I got to know him. My uncle used to be a volunteer coach. He knew Sam’s home life was rough. I can’t begin to tell you how many times he forced Sam to come to dinner and stay over. We eventually became friends simply because he was around so much. Now, he’s family.”
“I have a brother too.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I feel lame. I’ve never been good at talking to guys, especially if they are hot, which is why ninety percent of the time I avoid it at all costs.
Hell, the only reason I’m dating Ashley is because our getting together was practically arranged at birth. Even so, it doesn’t make things any less awkward between us.
“My brother, Bret, is two years older than me and in Gainesville, studying to be a doctor. He claims he wants to help people and whatnot, but I know the truth.” Josh pauses, baiting me into a question.
“And what’s that?”
“He wants to flash his doctor status to score that nurse-pussy.”
