Surely, Duke isn’t okay with this.
My best friend is distracted by some of the other girls here. Of course, he hasn’t even noticed his sister’s clothing choice. He’s over by the grill, wearing American flag swim shorts and holding a Miller Lite in one hand with the grill tongs in his other. He’s surrounded by three girls, and I only recognize one of them. He’s always been a ladies’ man, but lately, he’s taken it up a notch. He laughs, draping his arm over one of them.
Dolly’s laughter floats over to me. I turn to study her again, adjusting my Ray-Bans so that no one can see the way my eyes travel over her frame. Her waist is slim and tanned, flowing into wide hips and an ass that is begging to be spanked. Her butt jiggles with every step she takes. Her breasts are small andperky, her nipples poking through the thin fabric. I force myself to look away, feeling the blood rush down to my dick.
Don’t fucking look, idiot. You’ve spent years not looking.
I lift the margarita I just made for myself and down the whole thing in one gulp. It’s strong, which is just what I need. The higher my blood alcohol level gets, the higher my chances of fucking up and making a move on my best friend’s little sister.
This lake weekend was a mistake.
Inviting Dolly was an even bigger mistake.
A few hours later,my self-control is weakened, and my eyes trail back over to her. She’s chatting with a guy I’ve never seen before, over near the hot tub. I’m lounging on one of the pool chairs, trying not to stare at her. My friends Jesse and Grady are sitting with me. Grady has been stringing on his guitar for the past twenty minutes, and everyone has been drinking for hours in the sun.
I don’t know why we had to invite all these people.
I watch Dolly lean into the guy, giggling and laying a hand on his forearm. His face beams like he just won the Texas Powerball. My entire body tenses up. I feel like someone has cast a spell over my limbs and I can’t move them.
“So, man, you’re, like, a big-time rancher now, huh?” Jesse says. “That’s badass.”
Jesse has never been the brightest. He’s a fun guy, but he often says things that are offensive, like commenting that my grandfather’s recent death has made me rich as fuck.
“Yeah. Guess I’m a big-timer now.” I get up from the chair. “I need another drink.” The liquor is swirling around in my stomach, affecting my balance and ability to make logical decisions.
I find myself near the margarita-making table, dipping the rim in sugar and pouring two extra tequila shots into my drink. I make another one with barely a drop of liquor in a new cup. I crush watermelon into them both. I garnish the drinks with lime and watermelon wedges before turning around to see Dolly and the guy still flirting, but now his hand is cupped around her waist.
Yeah, fuck no. Duke would want me to interrupt them.
I make a beeline for them, abandoning my resolve to ignore her. The sun is glistening on her tan skin as I approach.
“Here, try this one.” I thrust the margarita in front of her face. “It’s watermelon.”
The guy gives me a once-over, glaring daggers at me. He’s at least six inches shorter than me, and he has a thick beard. He doesn’t release her. She sips on the sugary rim of the cup.
“Mmm. That’s good. What’s in it?” Her eyes are glazed over. She tilts her head back and shades her eyes from the sun.
“Watermelon, agave, tequila, lime juice, and a little bit of sparkling water.”
“Here, try this.” She holds the cup out to the guy.
“Hey, Sam! Catch.”
I turn around to see who’s saying my name, debating whether or not I should bump into the guy hanging all over Dolly and force him to spill the drink on himself. Jesse is holding up a football, pulling back his arm to throw it to me. I hold a hand up, preparing to catch it. The ball soars through the air, but at the last minute, I drop my arm and let it slam into the guy behind me.
The dickhead part of me doesn’t feel a shred of remorse when I turn around and see him red-faced and covered in a pink watermelon margarita. The color in his cheeks deepens as he steps away from Dolly, lifting his arms. My muscles relax.
“What the fuck was that?” he spits out.
“My bad. I missed.” I lift my cup to my lips, slowly sipping from the rim.
His skin is glistening from the drink all over his torso, eyes creased with rage.
“You could just jump in the pool to rinse off,” Dolly suggests.
“Yeah, man, jump in the pool,” I agree, nodding.
He seems to remember that she’s standing right there, observing his reaction. His face changes in an instant, morphing into a forced smile. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do that. You want another drink?”
