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“Melodie seems to like you.”

“Everybody likes me, except for Shelton and Dial. Hume’s newest it couple.”

“Ain’t that something? She is gonna eat that man alive.”

“I don’t know; she seems on her best behavior when he’s around.”

I didn’t envy Shelton because he wasn’t even dating the real Dial. He was a placeholder, and we all knew it. Maybe he hoped that hanging around long enough would make her fall in love with him. Getting Dial was easy enough, but keeping her was tantamount to building the ark. You could just call me Elastiman the way I’d twisted myself into a pretzel for her.

A few feet away, a group of guys were screaming excitedly over an ax-throwing match. Evan Jackson was the loudest among them, talking smack and calling his friends names.

Dial descended the back steps with enthusiasm. “Are we throwing axes?” she shouted. “I want in.” Cutting across the grass, she walked toward them with determined steps. I expected Shelton to be right behind her, but I guess he’d opted to stay inside.

“Sweetheart, this is a man’s sport, but you can watch,” Evan said to a smattering of laughs.

“Are you afraid to go up against a girl? Like you said, this is a man’s sport, so I’m probably not gonna win.”

“You wanna put something real on that?”

“Sugar, I’m ready—bet whatever you want.”

Evan tossed glances at his crew. “Loser has to run around the property naked for thirty seconds?”

I pushed out of my lawn chair, ready to fight, but Cyrus stalled my steps. If I went over there defending Dial’s honor, she was liable to cuss me out. But if she lost and Evan tried to press her, I’d get to swinging.

Dial licked her index finger and held it up. “There’s a little nip in the air, so you better hope you win, or Lil Evan is gonna disappoint a lot of people.” My girl was a shit talker, and I loved her competitive nature. It kept me on my toes.

A crowd gathered, ready to watch things play out. Dial walked over to the box filled with axes and I felt my heart constrict, afraid she was going to flash everyone, but she squatted instead, sending a rush of relief through me.

“Let’s set the rules,” Evan said.

“Five throws, whoever hits closest to the bull’s-eye wins that round.” Dial’s tone was matter-of-fact.

“Sounds like a deal. Good luck, sweet cheeks.”

“Okay, you’re up first.” Dial was comfortable being in charge, and she was good at it.

Evan rubbed his hands on his jeans. Flipping the ax for show, he winked at a group of ladies in the crowd. During high school he was popular, but now he was the guy who spent his weekends reminiscing about the good ole days and reliving his game-winning touchdown. The crowd grew silent as he positioned his feet behind the rough-hewn starting line. Evan’s first toss landed in the three-point range.

“You’re gonna have to do far better than that to beat me.” Dial’s words erased the cocky smile from his face. She positioned herself behind the line, cracked her neck, and threw the ax directly into the bull’s-eye.

“Well, gotdamn!” I shouted, and was rewarded with a flirty twirl as she played up to the crowd.

Edison nodded from beside me. “Damn near every weekend, Dial and I come out here, share a few beers, and throw axes. Evan’s about to lose badly.”

By the fifth and final throw, Evan was just trying to save face. Dial had secured four bull’s-eyes in a row. He let his last toss fly, and it nicked the edge of the wooden board before landing in the grass. Cheers erupted from the guests celebrating the outcome. Dial’s smack talk had wormed its way into Evan’s head, throwing off whatever game he may have had.

“You’re a cheater,” he spat out.

“You can’t cheat at ax throwing.”

“You and Edison rigged it in some way.”

“Just take your whooping and go,” Edison shouted from the sidelines.

“If you think I’m stripping naked, you’re wrong.”

Dial released an exasperated sigh. “Such a sore loser. We agreed, you lost, now strip.”