After dinner, the Golden Boys and I drive into town to shoot pool. Tara tags along, but she passes the time sitting at a high-top table on her phone, legs crossed and miniskirt riding up her tanned thighs. We team up—Beau and me versus AJ and Gray. But it’s sort of hard to enjoy the game when my partner keeps giving me surly looks.
I tried to warn her. I told her that Beau has a thing for her, butBlake just shrugged it off. Women don’t want to see the things that make them uncomfortable.
Despite the rising tension between us, Beau and I win the first game. While Gray racks the balls for round two, AJ goes to get another pitcher of beer. The Golden Boys are twenty, so they all use fake IDs. I find that hilarious, as I’m sure most of the bartenders in Tahoe know who their fathers are and could easily google their ages and find out they’re minors. But AJ strolls back with a second pitcher, no problem.
Pouring myself a pint, I notice AJ and Gray smirking at me.
“What?” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Are we seriously not gonna address this Blake thing?” AJ demands.
“Seriously,” Gray agrees. “We’ve been so patient.”
“Giving you space,” adds AJ.
“Trying to be cool about it,” continues Gray. “But…dude. It’s been three days.”
“I know you like to live on the edge,” AJ says in amusement, “but pissing off Logan by banging his baby girl? You’ve got balls of steel, bro.”
I notice Beau draining more than half of his pint glass—which he filled literally five seconds ago.
“Slow down,” I murmur.
That gets me a derisive snort. “Why? I’m on fucking vacation.” Then, as if to spite me, he chugs the rest of the glass and pours himself another.
Okay then. If he wants to get loaded, go nuts, buddy.
I end up drinking more than usual myself, at least compared to this past month. I started the summer pounding beers like mints, sometimes before noon, but I’ve cut back significantly since getting a handle on the insomnia. However, after three days of nonstop tensionand feeling like I’m under a microscope, I’ve earned the right to let loose.
I’m unsteady on my feet by the time we leave the bar. AJ’s girlfriend is our designated driver and surprisingly patient as she helps her boyfriend into the passenger’s seat. Tara’s been nothing but bitchy and entitled since they got here, so it’s nice to see she actually cares about the guy.
AJ is even drunker than I am. He collapses in his seat and cranks open the window, then passes out with his arm hanging out of the car. I sit in the back with Gray and Beau, texting Blake because I’m drunk and horny and I miss her.
Be home in 15. Meet me behind the boathouse.
FRECKLES
Ooh, we’re taking risks again?
Yes.
FRECKLES
Thank God.
It’s pitch-black later when I stumble through the shadows behind the boathouse. I find her leaning against the wall, wearing a loose T-shirt that hangs over her shoulder, no bra strap. That’s my girl. And she’s in a skirt. Definitely my girl.
“Hi—” she starts, but my hands slide under the hem of her shirt, and her hello dissolves into a quiet sigh.
She smells so good. Like summer and sex and lavender. My lips skim her neck, and I drag my tongue along her soft skin, tasting her. Meanwhile, I’m already pushing my hips against her body, trying to get closer.
When she reaches down and squeezes my ass, I groan. Loudly.
“Someone’s going to catch us if you do that again,” she whispers, even as she’s wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me even closer.
As much as I want to take my time with her, sink down on my knees, bring her pussy to my face, and fuck her with my tongue, we’re on borrowed time, and every second we drag out this encounter, we’re in danger of someone catching us.
“Freckles, you know I could spend the rest of my life on my knees making you come…” My hands slide under her skirt, and I stroke her thighs before gripping her ass cheeks. No panties. God, she’s perfect.
