Summer Fling

by Tarrah Anders

  She shakes her head, continues brushing her teeth, then holds out her hand to me to pause, and rushes into the bathroom down the hall. She returns a moment later sans toothbrush.

  “I saw it in a corner of your room a few weeks ago, but girl, this is your mess of a room. I wouldn’t know where my vibrator lived if I was in here.”

  I throw the pair of shorts I held in my hand at her and she laughs.

  “My vibrator stays firmly in the drawer beside the bed. I never have any problem finding it,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “Well, at least you know where your B.O.B is; that’s the most important thing here. C’mon, do you really need that specific bathing suit and t-shirt? All we are doing is going to the lake. It’s not like you’re entertaining the notion of hooking up with any of these tourists, so what does it matter what you wear?”

  She has a valid point. However, I’m not about to tell her I’m secretly hoping we run into Royce.

  “I envisioned myself wearing that bathing suit, that’s all,” I say dejectedly, nonchalantly lifting my shoulder.

  “Honey, you will look amazing in whatever you wear,” Effie says sweetly. “But let's get going. I want to get out of here and the lake waits for no one.”

  I love the summertime. Don’t get me wrong, I could do without all the obnoxious tourists that sometime come to our town, but they do make our little town lively this time of year. As annoying as some of them can be, they do bring more business to our little town, my business included. So I shouldn't complain about tourist season as much as I do, but what can I say? One bad experience has overshadowed my whole tourist experience.

  Once I’m ready, Effie and I head out to pick up Willie and then we are on our way to the loading dock. My jeep stays in the parking lot and we head down to my family’s boat to load our cooler and other stuff. We take the boat across the lake to one of the spots along the shore of Lake Jetson that has sand.

  While this part of the lake can be busy during the summer, it’s the best part of the lake to visit. Everyone with boats anchor them offshore and everyone congregates either on the beach or in the water in inflatables, depending on where their friends are.

  Willie and Effie enjoy coming to the lake to hook up with the tourists while I get to be the mother hen and make sure they don’t drown as they drink all the alcohol we bring in the coolers. Today is no different from any other summer day on the water, except now my body is hyper-aware of the three massive bodies playing Frisbee on the beach, the very same well-defined, muscular men that I saw at the store, at the diner, and walking along Main Street. The three men who, one by one, stop the game they are playing to watch us as we hop off the boat.

  I see Royce do a double take as his jaw drops. He closes his mouth, says something to the redhead of their group and then starts in our direction.

  “Heads up. Man-meat alert,” Willie whispers with a laugh.

  “Hey,” he says as he comes to a stop in front of me and smiles.

  “Hey,” I reply.

  “So…” he starts as he leans against the boat. “I was wondering if you ladies would like to hang with us. We’re playing Frisbee, or we can just hang out. We don’t really know anyone yet in town, so um, yeah. Care to join?” He rambles nervously.

  I look over to my friends and they’re smiling and nodding.

  “Sure. Sounds fun.”

  He reaches for our stuff and then turns to his friends.

  “Hey, store chick!” the redhead hollers. “I suck with names. I’m Jackson,” he says to Willie and Effie.

  “Emma and this is Willie and Effie.” I gesture to my friends as I introduce them.

  “Twins. Cool. How can we tell you guys apart? I don’t see any differences.”

  “Our voices and the tattoos we have are different,” Willie replies.

  “So you are?” Jackson points to Effie.

  “I’m Effie. I have the fairy tattoo on my ankle.”

  “And I’m Willie, with tribal tattoos on my spine.” Willie turns around showcasing swirls that start at the nape of her neck and trail to her tailbone along her spine.

  “And you guys are?” Effie asks.

  “Shit. We’re apparently dicks with no manners. I’m Jackson. Pretty boy here is Royce and the other pretty boy is Cyrus,” Jackson explains as he gestures.

  Willie and Effie double take at Cyrus.

  “Cyrus Holt?” Effie asks.

  “Yes ma’am.” He steps forward and shakes their hands.

  “You don’t remember us, do you?” Effie puts her hands on her hips and then looks at me. “Em, remember that boy we talked about from that one summer, the spoiled brat who pushed us off the dock that used to be in the middle of the lake?”

  Cyrus looks surprised and then recognition hits him.

  “Holy shit! I remember that dock. I don’t remember pushing anyone in, but I’m sorry?”

  I laugh as I watch the interaction play out.

  “We hated you,” they say in unison like the creepy twins from The Shining, as they cross their arms and glare at him.

  “I’m not the same bratty kid that I was then,” Cyrus defends himself, holding out his hands in surrender.

  “Bull. You’re still a brat, Cy,” Royce states while shaking his head with a coy smile on his face.

  HIM

  I’m not entirely sure what came over me when I first saw the boat come up to the shore, other than that I needed to talk to her. What better way to talk to her than to invite them to hang out with us.

  I watch the awkward exchange between Cy and her friends without adding too much commentary, but Emma talks first.

  “Lucky for you, they took that dock out of the lake a few years ago. The parks authority keeps saying they will get a new one, but they have yet to come through on their promise. However, if they do, I would watch your back. These two hold grudges and they will get you back tenfold.”

  “Noted. In addition, ladies, sorry for my behavior back then. It’s entirely likely I had a crush on you guys, so that could have been my way of flirting with you,” he explains.

  The twins roll their eyes in unison and my interest in their conversation fades. Instead, I focus on Emma. I haven’t been tongue-tied in ages, and this woman has somehow made me mute. I’m nervous as fuck and I don’t know how to properly start a conversation with her. We stand there together awkwardly until I get desperate and grasp at low-hanging conversational fruit.

  “So, you own the clothing store by the diner,” I ask her.

  “Yeah. What do you do?” she asks. “I feel like these are questions I should know the answer to, you know, after that night.”

  “We may have talked about it, but I can’t remember. Cy and I just signed a lease for a building right around the corner from your shop. We’re veterinarians, and we’re opening up a clinic here in town.”

  She smiles, then grabs her blanket and spreads it out. She motions to sit down. “That’s awesome. I don’t think we’ve ever had a vet in this town. Local pet owners will appreciate not having to drive to the next town for any of their animal care needs. Not like I have any pets, but I sure do hear a lot of folks around here complain.”

  “That’s why we chose to come here.” I smile.

  “That means you guys really are settling down in Sweeny?” she asks in a hopeful tone.

  “That’s the plan. I’m sure if things go south though, we can always head back home,” I say.

  “And where’s home?”

  “Sacramento.”

  “A local veterinary practice will do a lot of folks some good. The closest one is over thirty miles away and, when your dog is super sick or injured, those miles seem like forever,” she says, staring off at the water.

  We’re silent for a few moments before she speaks up again.

  “I had a dog once. Sorry. Anyways, do you have any pets?”

  “No, I don’t, but Cyrus does, a chocolate lab, Rufus. We have to head back to pick him up along with some more of our stu
ff.”

  “Cool. And you three, you live together?” she asks.

  “Well, Cy and I do. Jackson kinda roams around. He’s here now, but he could be gone in the morning. He’s somewhat of a wandering soul.”

  “How did you guys all meet? You seem very different.” She looks over to the guys and then back at me.

  “Cy and I went to school together. And Jackson, well he’s always been around. He and I grew up in the same neighborhood, our parents were friends and somehow, even though nothing for him has ever been permanent, our friendship is.” I smile.

  “That’s very poetic of you,” she says with a shy smile.

  “I am a man of many words. How about you and the twins?” I ask.

  “We all grew up here together. In small towns, you know everyone and they know you. We were in the same classes and the rest is history.”

  “What you’re saying sounds like you had no choice but to be friends,” I point out teasingly.

  “It could seem that way. But we clicked, probably in grade school. Effie and I live together and Willie and I own the clothing store together.”

  “Cool. That sounds like fun. Kind of what Cy and I are doing. Two friends going into business with one another.”

  "The process to start it up was taxing, but overall, it's been a lot of fun."

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” I say enthusiastically. “I need to decorate and fill up our new office space with furniture and all the miscellaneous. I know we don’t know each other very well, but would you maybe be interested in helping me? You know- if you have time to help and all. I mean, I know we barely know each other, but what better way to make new friends, right?”

  She looks me over with a curious gaze.

  “I think you’re crazy. You don’t know me. I could have a wild style and force you to buy everything in neon green.”

  “Well, then it’s a good thing that my favorite color is green.” I smile and nudge her shoulder with mine.

  “What’s your last name?” she asks.

  “Colton.”

  “Well, Royce Colton. I think that you’ve got yourself a new interior designer.” She smiles proudly.

  “Suddenly, I don’t know whether or not that's a good thing,” I admit.

  “Oh, it’s definitely a good thing,” she replies with a giggle.

  “Can you help me?” Jackson asks as he walks into the living room holding a bottle of what looks like green jelly.

  I look at the bottle and then his bare skin, which is brighter than his red hair.

  “Did you forget your sunscreen young man?” I taunt him, using my best stern-father voice.

  “I didn’t apply enough. I’m in so much pain it’s unbelievable,” he whines.

  I hold out my hand and take the green jelly, which is actually aloe vera. I squirt a hefty amount on my palm and motion for him to turn around. My hand hits his upper shoulder and he hisses out in relief.

  “That feels…so…good, but it hurts at the same time. Do it again, slap me.” He breathes out harshly and hangs his head. He moans loudly and I slap his back as he hisses through his teeth.

  “Definitely the manliest thing I’ve ever walked in on,” Cyrus says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You two need to get a room,” He deadpans as he strolls into the adjoining kitchen and opens the fridge. “So, those chicks were pretty cool today.”

  “I think you already dug your grave with the twins, man. They only seemed to put up with you for the sake of their friend, who obviously has the hots for this dude here.” Jackson throws his thumb in my direction behind him.

  “It is unfortunate that they knew me back when I was a little shit. Be that as it may, they’ll get to know me again, but this time as the amazing, generous, and sexually satisfying man I am today. Both of them will fall madly in love with me and I'll be the meat in a sexy twin sandwich every night," Cyrus says proudly.

  “Sandwiches? Oh man, you wish.” I laugh.

  “Sandwiches? I don’t get it,” Jackson says, looking between the two of us in confusion.

  “You know”—Cy leans toward Jackson and wiggles his eyebrows—“I’d be the filling in between them.”

  “Cy, I hate to burst your bubble, but those two beauties did not look like the type to hook up with the same guy at the same time. That’s a sick form of incest, man.”

  “Hey, some people are totally into it,” Cyrus defends.

  “I’m pretty sure not those two. This may be a small town, but I don’t think they’re into that shit.”

  “There’s so much wrong with the turn this conversation has taken.” I shake my head and hand Jackson his aloe back. He nods in thanks and turns to sit on the chair beside the couch.

  “So… The cute blonde?” Jackson starts. “You guys seemed pretty chummy.”

  “She’s cool. She’s going to help me choose decent shit for the office.”

  “Just don’t make everything pink, man. You know that I hate that shit and I know that chicks all love pink.”

  4

  HER

  I’ve seen Royce at least once a day for the past two weeks. We’ve actually become friends and I’m totally okay with that. You can never have too many friends, although some of my thoughts about him are far from friendly. Honestly, they’re quite naughty and I’m not okay with that. He says he’s staying, making Sweeny his home, but he still has his permanent address in Sacramento. Half of his belongings are still at some apartment there in the city. Who knows, he could even have a girlfriend back there. Therefore, I’m looking at this new friendship as temporary.

  But why would he have come home with me that night if he had a girlfriend? He seems to have backed off since I’ve been helping him, although I have caught his lingering gaze on me and he’s made some flirty comments when we’ve hung out. We haven't mentioned that night together during the times we've hung out, which is strange. But I'm not going to dwell on it. We've had fun and it's been nice making a new friend, even if I'm extremely attracted to him and can recount exactly how he looks without his clothes on.

  This coming weekend, Royce and his friend Cyrus are both going back to Sacramento and part of me feels like they’re not coming back. So, the new friend I’ve been getting to know may or may not be my friend anymore. Or maybe when he returns, things will be different.

  Royce is sitting across from me right now scraping a chip against the bowl of salsa. He brings the chip to his mouth, takes a bite out of it, then twists his hand and darts his tongue out to lick the salsa that dripped down his wrist.

  I do my best to hold my reaction in, but he doesn’t miss when I lick my own lips while watching him.

  He smirks, and not just the playful smirk that most people give someone. This smirk is full of salacious intent, and lets me know he’s aware that he’s making my skin feel warm, my heart quicken, and my breath catch.

  I clear my throat and open the file folder sitting beside me to distract myself.

  “I don’t know what kind of things Cyrus likes, but I have an inkling of what you like, so I’m going with that.”

  “You know what I like?” He leans in, his tone flirty.

  “It's not like you're hard to figure out. Plus, since it’s a veterinary practice, the decor needs to be animal friendly, able to be easily cleaned or something along those lines.”

  He taps his nose. “You get it.” He smiles playfully.

  I roll my eyes at him and take a bite from the forkful of salad in my hand.

  “I have the exam tables on order and the standard filing cabinets I’m getting from a going-out-of-business sale back home.”

  “When is opening day again?” I double-check the calendar on my phone.

  “Sometime next month.”

  “Do you guys have a plan in place, a grand opening party?” I ask.

  “Umm,” he looks around avoiding my gaze.

  “Royce. How the hell have you gotten this far? Do you guys have a solid business plan outlined? Can I see it? A budget? A bot
tom line? Anything?”

  I rub my forehead.

  “We have a business plan. I’ll make sure you get a copy if you want one, you know, to look over and make sure we’re doing things right.”

  “All right, so you guys have a shit-ton to do. Willie and I can help you, but you all are going to have to put in a lot of work too. I don’t want to tell you guys how to run your business, but I can help with you both with what I can.”

  He drops the chip in his hand onto his plate and folds his hands in front of him.

  “Please, teach me all the ways, oh wise one. I will be endlessly grateful for you and the magic which you will produce for us and I’ll… I’ll grovel at your feet forevermore.”

  “Who’s going to grovel at whose feet?” Jackson asks, scooting me over on my side of the booth.

  “Mine. Royce is going to worship me for the rest of his days,” I report with a smile.

  Jackson looks between us and then nods.

  “Sounds legit.” He takes a chip from Royce’s plate and takes a bite.

  “Emma has pointed out that Cy and I are shit business owners.” Royce points a chip at me.

  “Well, I could have told you that a long time ago and saved you the trouble of figuring it out,” Jackson says as he turns to me. “When we were little, he and I had a lemonade stand. Royce thought it would be better to have all the ingredients side by side, instead of mixed together.”

  I hold in my laughter and look to Royce. He shrugs and puts another chip in his mouth.

  Jackson continues, “We didn’t do so well. Nobody wanted to make their own lemonade. Our moms forked over some cash, maybe the crazy sweater lady across the street too, but the business was a flop.”

  “I thought people would want to see how it was made.” Royce shrugs.

  “Dude, you showed Bobby Flanagan the ingredients and handed him the stir spoon.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “So, the ignorance of business stems from childhood. How did you think you guys would run your practice?” I ask the laughter fading.