Looking death in the eye puts life in perspective.
Besides... you can’t win against a stupid person. They drag you down to their level and destroy you with experience.
As we approach the main deck, the bass grows louder. There’s definitely a party in full swing. “Vicious” by Bohnes blasts from speakers we can’t see but can definitely hear, and Addie bounces beside me to the rhythm. Other than her parents and a couple of their friends, everyone’s dancing.
I’m about to lead Addie onto the makeshift dance floor when her father approaches, with a cheerful, “There you are!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Weston, I was just—” Grant starts.
Henry’s not addressing him, though. And he makes it known by blatantly cutting him off mid-sentence. “I thought you’d stood me up. Ready for a quick game?”
“No way, Dad.” Addie pulls me behind her. “You stole him for two hours last night.”
“Just one game, we need a fourth.”
“I don’t mind standing in if Colt’s not available,” Grant cuts in,accidentallystumbling into the bucket of beer I’m holding to draw Henry’s attention.
What does he think will happen? I’ll get tossed overboard for drinking beer? Like I said: stupid.
Henry snags a bottle from my bucket, pops the cap and takes a long pull. “It’s been a while since I had a cold one. Brings back memories. So, how about it? One game.”
“One,” Addie denotes, holding one finger up for emphasis. “If you’re not back in half an hour I’ll come looking.”
Drawing her into my side, I let my eyes roam down her figure, pausing where her dress hugs her curves, then plant a tender kiss on her head. “Behave, baby. No dancing on tables in that outfit.”
“Pinky promise.”
Grant’s attention flits between Addie and me, a sneer curling his lip. The sight of him watching her with such entitlement lights a slow, burning anger in my chest. The fucking audacity.
The petty side of me pulls Addie even closer and whispers, “Don’t let Grant too close. He’ll lose his teeth if he lays a finger on you.”
Before she can say anything, I turn away to join her father, leaving her flustered and Grant fuming.
Colt: 1.
Grant: 0.
I’m on a roll.
SEVENTEEN
Addie
“MAYBE YOU’RE NOT HIS TYPE?” Ruby suggests, her voice indifferent through my AirPods.
“Gee, thanks,friend,” I mumble, staring at the millions of stars speckling the inky canvas above.
I locked myself in our bathroom once Colt disappeared with my dad, and sent Ruby and Felicity a voice message, ranting and raving about how I already came onto Colt twice and he shot me down on both occasions.
They called at the same time when I came back out on the main deck, so I connected the AirPods, and I’m mostly speaking in monosyllables in case anyone overhears.
I guessnot his typeis plausible. I’m plumper than your average prom queen. Maybe not plus size, but close. More than enough flesh to grab. Maybe that’s not Colt’s yum?
“Bullshit,” Felicity snaps. “He wouldn’t keep going on about this date once you’re back in Newport if he didn’t find you attractive. What did you have to eat? Maybe it was your breath.”
“When’s the last time you were out-of-your-mind horny, kissed a guy you were hot for, and stopped because his breath wasn’t minty enough?” Ruby asks. I can imagine how hard she’s rolling her eyes. “When you’re in the moment and really into someone, you don’t notice their breath.”
“Youdon’t.” Felicity chuckles. “I won’t kiss them unless they’re clean and smell niceeverywhere.”
