“It’ll come off fine,” he says, leaning back underneath the hood. “Now just get in the car and turn the key when I tell you to.”
I snarl at him once before doing what he asked, and in no time the Chevelle is running again and we’re in our way to St. Petersburg, just an hour away.
Today feels a lot like summer, and we can’t get enough of it. After we get to our hotel room and take a much-needed shower, we head to the nearest department store to buy him a pair of swimming trunks and me a bikini, intent on heading to the ocean for a swim.
He insists on the tiny black bikini with little silver stars, but he isn’t the one who’ll have to keep pulling that butt floss from between my cheeks every five seconds. So I settle for the cute red one with a tab bit more coverage.
“Probably better you picked that one, anyway,” he says, as we hop inside the car in the parking lot of the store.
“Why’s that?” I ask, grinning, as I kick off my flip-flops.
“Because I might end up busting a few jaws.” He puts the car into reverse and we back out.
“Just for looking?” I ask with a hint of disbelief and laughter.
His head falls to the side to look at me. “Nah, I guess not. I kind of get off on it when other guys look at you.”
“Ewww!” I scrunch up my nose.
“Not like that!” he says. “Geez!” He shakes his head as if to say UNbelievable, and we pull out of the parking lot and onto the street, which is busy with tourist traffic. “It just makes me feel good, y’know, having you on my arm. Does wonders for a guy’s ego.”
“Oh, so I’m just an arm trophy to you?” I cross my arms and smirk over at him.
“Yeah, babe, that’s all I keep you around for. I thought you knew that already.”
“Well, I guess then it’s no secret that I keep you around for the same reason.”
“Oh, really?” he asks, glancing over before staring at the road in front of him.
“Yep,” I say and lean my head back on the seat. “I just keep you around to make bitches jealous. But at night, I’m dreaming about the love of my life.”
“Who might that be?”
I purse my lips and look all around me, then back at him playfully. “Well, I won’t tell you his name because I don’t want you to go after him and see you get your ass kicked. But I can tell you that he’s got medium-brown hair, gorgeous green eyes, and a few tattoos. Oh, and he’s a musician.”
“Really? Well, he sounds awesome, so why use me as your arm trophy then?”
I shrug, because I can’t really think of a good line.
“Come on, you can tell me,” he says. “It’s not like he and I talk.”
“Sorry,” I say, glancing over, “but I don’t talk about him behind his back.”
“Fair enough,” he says with a smile. “You know what?”
“What?”
Andrew grins mischievously, and I don’t like it one bit.
“I remember a couple of things on our first road trip that you never got around to doing.”
Uh-oh…
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.
He drops his right hand from the steering wheel and rests it on his leg. That daring look in his eyes is gaining momentum, and I try not to make my growing nervousness so obvious.
“Yeah, I think you owe me a bare ass in the window, and I still need to bear witness to your bug meal. What will it be? Grasshopper? Cricket? Earthworm? Or, maybe a granddaddy long leg. I wonder if they have granddaddy long legs in Florida…”
My skin is crawling. “Give it up, Andrew,” I say, shaking my head. I prop my foot on the door and twirl my braid between my fingers, trying to mask my worry. “I’m not doing it. And besides, that was the first road trip and you can’t just carry stuff over like that. Should’ve made me do it when you had the chance.”
He’s still grinning like the devious shithead he is.
“No,” I say again, flatly.
I glance over. “No!” I say one last time, and it leaves him laughing.
“All right,” he says, putting his right hand back on the steering wheel. “It was worth a try, though. Can’t blame me for tryin’.”
“I guess not.”
Andrew
We spend the entire day swimming and laying out on the beach. We watch the sun set over the horizon and eventually the stars, as they come alive in the darkness. Just an hour after nightfall we’re met by a group of people our age. They’ve been on the beach not far from us for a while, hanging out.
“From around here?” the tall guy with a full-sleeved tattoo down his right arm asks.
One of the couples sits down in the sand near us. Camryn, sitting between my legs, leans away from my chest attentively.
“No, we’re from Galveston,” I answer.
“And Raleigh,” Camryn adds.
“We’re in from Indiana,” the black-haired girl sitting down says. She points at the others she came with who are still standing. “They live here, though.”
One of the other guys wraps his girlfriend up in his arms. “I’m Tate, this is Jen,” he indicates his girlfriend, then points to the others standing nearby. “Johanna. Grace. And that’s my brother, Caleb.”