Ainsley
Sloane watches me pack my last minute travel items into the suitcase Nate let me borrow for our trip. “I can’t believe you’re actually going away together.”
“Well it’s not like it’s just us,” I counter, zipping my favorite hairbrush away in the pocket. “We’re going away with his best friends. They’re basically like his brothers.”
“They hot?”
Her question instantly makes me giggle. Turning around to face her, I rest my back against my dresser. “Honestly, have no idea. Never met them before.”
“What do you mean you’ve never met them?”
I shrug. “I’ve only seen one, I think, the night Nate and I hooked up, but I don’t really remember his face. He usually hangs out with them while I’m working or with you. Our time alone together is already a struggle, so he hates having to share it, you know?”
And I totally get it. We don’t have the luxury of mingling together in public for long periods of time or making our friends all come to our place for dinner or something. Though, someday I look forward to that…For now, we have to work with what we’re given and that time is precious. Plus, it’s hard to screw like crazy when other people are around.
Sloane hums and crosses her legs. “And you’re not the least bit creeped out by the fact he’s turning thirty?”
I shake my head. “Why would I be?”
“Because he’s turning thirty!” She over exaggerates with hand motions. “Like thirty. Like get married, have a few kids, settle down because my youth is officially over, thirty.”
Another light laugh escapes. “That’s not what thirty means.”
“It is totally what thirty means. You watch movies! You know this as well as I do! Aren’t you worried he’s going to want to knock you up and turn you into his little housewife or something?”
Worried? No. Secretly hopeful? Yes. Which is nuts, but I can’t help it. I want to be the mother of his kids someday. I want us to have a house and a family and a long life together. Maybe not this very second, but when I graduate college? Definitely. Maybe I’ll look for a job that would allow me work from home to accommodate getting pregnant. I know thinking about it is totally unhealthy and unnecessary, but it’s what my day dreams have been made of lately. That and how amazing it would be if I could just move in with Nate now instead of later.
I clear away the runaway train of thought with a quick shake of the head. “No. Nate’s not like that. He wants for me what I want for me. He wants me to go to college and follow my passion. He’s not looking to ‘settle down’ like that yet.”
Sloane remains unconvinced by the expression on her face, however, she surrenders her pursuit to continue the argument. “When do you get back?”
“Early Sunday morning. He wants us back home in time to rest, relax, and make sure we’re caught up on everything before we go back on Monday.”
“Did you just say home in reference to his apartment?”
The slip didn’t even register.
“You don’t think this is all….a little fast? Vacations and keys to his place and calling it home?”
“Not really,” I casually retort. “That’s what it feels like.”
Which is the complete opposite of how this place feels. I may sleep in this room, but this house hasn’t felt like my home since my dad died. I love how Nate’s apartment has become my place as much as his. We have a new bed. I keep lots of my clothes there despite the fact I spend an outrageous amount of time naked. I’ve got a makeup corner on my bedside table. Plus, there are little touches of me sprinkled around like forgotten hair ties and the pink pens I prefer to take my notes with. He keeps the fridge filled with my preference in milk and orange juice, keeps roses in a vase at the bar where I do my homework, and he doesn’t mind washing my laundry with his or when I help tidy up by vacuuming the floors. Anytime I walk in, it feels like I belong there. Like I’ve always belonged there. Like I’m….home.
“I know how it looks, Sloane, but I swear I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. He feels like my soul mate.”
“What is this, Shakespeare?” She gags and groans. “Ugh. I need pancakes before listening to any more proclamations of love.”
“Not exactly pancakes, but how about a caramel macchiato with a double shot of expresso?” Nate offers, strolling into my bedroom.
I’m not the only one with a key to their significant other’s place….It happened probably a week or so after he gave me mine. Nate doesn’t have much use for his since we spend almost all of our time together at his apartment, but I can tell he appreciates the gesture. I think it makes him feel better to know he has access to check on my safety under my mother’s rule any time he sees fit. She doesn’t know though. She barely remembers I have a boyfriend.
Sloane flies off the bed his direction. “Oh….The patron saint of coffee must be pleased with me this morning.”
“Must be.” He chuckles as she takes it. After she has a small sip he adds, “Thanks again for covering for us. Hoping it won’t be too much of a hassle.”
She smiles kindly. “There’s no reason it should. Other than me the only person who would wonder where she is would be Scott and I’ve totally got that handled.”
Doubt he’ll ask more than once since his main goal for spring break is to spend time with Sloane alone. He mentioned something on the bus last week about hoping to ask her to prom early and ruining her feelings for A.J. completely. It was cute and somewhat sad to see him so desperate for the one person he loves. Besides Sloane and Scott, no one else really cared about what my plans were. Josh invited me to go to the beach with him and his friends, but I lied about having to work. Sloane backed my story flawlessly. I did tell my mother the truth like Nate insisted and it didn’t go as shitty as I imagined it would, but then again she was coming down off a high, so where her daughter would be spending a few days didn’t matter as much as remembering where she hid her stash.
I open my mouth to ask the obvious question when Nate answers, “I’ve got your mocha coffee with almond milk and whip cream waiting for you in the SUV.”
A grin crawls onto my face. “Thank you.”
Nate smirks, slips a brief kiss onto my lips, and lifts my suitcase.
His word choice catches my curiosity as I grab my purse. “Wait. SUV? Did you rent a vehicle?”
“Nah. We’re riding with Holden.”
“Is this Holden person single?” Sloane interrupts with a devilish grin.
My boyfriend lightly chuckles. “He is.”
Her excitement emerges.
“With two kids.”
Immediately it disappears and she fakes a shudder. “Pass.”
“Are his kids coming?” I ask.
“No. They’re staying with their grandparents.”
I nod my understanding. “Can we give Sloane a ride home? It’s just around the corner.”
“Of course,” he answers before moving towards the door of my bedroom. “We should get going.”
The three of us head outside to where the sun has barely risen. Nate opens the back-passenger door and helps the two of us inside.
The second we’re settled the driver turns around and greets us. “Morning.”
“Morning,” we sing in unison.
“I’m Holden.”
At the same time, we let our attention wander over his features. While Nate looks younger than he is, Holden appears to be right on par with his age. His brown hair is short and neatly groomed. His green eyes have hints of sparkles with some sadness too. The lower portions of his bulging arms that are not being blocked by his t-shirt are covered in colorful, intricate tattoos. It makes me wonder if the top portion is as well.
“Sloane,” she speaks first, giving him a flirty smile despite the fact she just mentioned not being interested. “I’m the best friend.”
“Nice to meet you.” He gives her a polite one in return. His attention falls on me and his grin widens. “You’re the girlfriend.”
I nod sweetly.
Holden lightly laughs to himself and says, “I can see why he’s been a dick about letting us meet you.” He lets his eyes drink in my strapless yellow sundress. “Can’t even fucking blame him…”
“Blame me for what?” Nate asks, shutting his door.
He winks, turns around, and slides sunglasses on. “Nothing.”
“Blame me for what, bro?”
The conversation ends as far as Holden is concerned. “Is Sloane coming with us?”
“We’re dropping her off at her place,” Nate answers, still curious about what he missed.
“It’s just around the corner,” she adds.
While Sloane offers him basic directions, Nate turns around and hands me my cup of coffee. I mouth my thanks and he gives me a caring smile.
After dropping her off along with promises of souvenirs, taking tons of pictures to make her feel like she is there, and texting her every chance I can, the three of us head for the highway to begin our six-hour road trip.
Nate and Holden exchange a few words I can’t really hear, but when a name I recognize is mentioned, I interject, “Are we picking up the other guys?”
“Pax and Wyatt are riding together,” my boyfriend answers.
“So, are you two closer to each other and then they’re closer to each other?”
He turns around to reply. “Not really. We’re all pretty close. There are just certain times we match up differently.”
“Like?”
“Like Pax and I love the shit out of football. Wyatt and Holden like lacrosse.” He gives his best friend a pointed look. “Which is un-American as fuck, bro.”
“Blow me,” he replies, changing lanes.
“But we all love the hell out of baseball. Pax and Holden like tattoos, Wyatt and me don’t understand covering your skin with that kinda shit. Or like this. Holden and I both had shit to take care of yesterday, but we both knew we would wanna avoid traffic by getting an early start. Pax and Wyatt both went out separately last night to get fucked up. Chances are they’re both going to want to start driving much later than this.”
I hum my understanding. “Makes sense.”
“There’s no real division among us. Never has been.”
“Never will be,” Holden promptly adds. “We’ve survived more fucked up shit together in the past few years than some people do in a life time. If none of that shit broke up our brotherhood, nothing will.”
His declaration is moving. I still can’t help but find it to be a bad omen. No one should challenge fate to fuck with them like that and that’s exactly how his speech sounded. Almost like pissing on karma’s shoes.
Nate turns back around at the same time my cell phone vibrates in my purse.
I pull it out expecting to see a message from Sloane but am annoyed to find it’s from Josh instead.
With a quick swipe, I open it and see his shirtless body, lounging on a beach towel. The words underneath are sweet and simple.
Josh: Wish you were here next to me. Always thinking of you.
Shaking my head, I politely reply.
Me: Enjoy your Spring Break.
I close the message and slip the phone back into my purse, seconds before Holden asks for my opinion on music. Once I give it, I have another sip of my coffee and try to relax. As much as I want to completely brush Josh off and just tell him, I’m in a relationship, I know what will happen and I’m not ready for it yet. The minute he finds out I have a boyfriend, he’ll switch his efforts from trying to date me to trying to figure out who it is. He’ll rearrange his life to watch my moves more carefully to figure it out. We don’t need that kind of attention. Ever. I’ll figure out a way to get Josh to back off that keeps us both in the clear. But not today. No. Right now, all I want to do is enjoy three days of beach bliss with the guy I love.
The drive to the condo is smooth and quick. We only make one stop and it’s for lunch. At the café, Nate makes a point to drape his arm around me and hold me close, things we normally can’t or shouldn’t do in public. The allowance of such activities turns us both on to the point our hands begin to wander directions they shouldn’t. Thankfully, Holden gets us back on the road before we can think of an excuse to disappear together in the bathroom.
When we arrive in the gated community, my eyes nearly pop out of my head at the size of the homes. As we drive towards our rented property, Holden explains how the entire gated community is owned by one man who has made his fortune on renting out these private sections. I try to bat away the disbelief in price at how much renting one of these places is. Nate made me promise not to pay for anything other than souvenirs I wanted during the trip. It was a useless argument on my part. No matter what I said or threw at him, he refused to budge. Sometimes his stubbornness is sexy while others it’s infuriating. And now that I see the size and luxury of these houses, I really should try to throw in for something. I’ll be fine paying my portion of the cell phone bill late again…
“Stop it,” my boyfriend scolds like he can hear my thoughts. “You promised you’d only pay for shit you wanna take home. I’ve got the rest.”
“Well really, we’ve got the rest,” Holden corrects pulling into a curved driveway.
“What?” Nate immediately questions.
“Pax, Wyatt, and I chipped in to rent this place and stock it for the few days we’re here.”
He glares at the same time the vehicle comes to a halt. “But I put down the deposit.”
Holden gives him a sarcastic look. “Because getting that money back into your account is hard?” When Nate’s mouth cracks open to voice his displeasure, his best friend cuts him off, “It’s your fucking birthday, bro. Of course we weren’t going to let you pay for shit. Now shut your pussy pleaser, grab your woman’s bag, and let’s go check this place out.”
I smirk at Nate’s stunned expression.
All of sudden, Holden looks around his seat at me. “And you’re not paying for shit either. As far as we’re concerned the fact you made his ass wanna get out to celebrate makes us even. Got it?”
Sheepishly, I nod.
Without another word, we all exit the vehicle and they grab our bags from the back. Together we approach the door that lacks the need for an actual key. Holden types in an entry code, reading it to us out loud as he does, so we’ll have it.
The interior is equally stunning to the exterior. Right across from the entry way is a massive living room filled with white couches, white chairs, white lamps, and touches of dark blue accents. There are a several sets of glass doors open, which all lead to the outdoor patio and provide a breath-taking view of the ocean. To the left appears to be an open kitchen with plenty of dining as well as entertaining space, while to the right there’s an additional seating area along with a hallway. Above that area, there’s a set of stairs that are covered in the same marble floors the rest of house is. The glass casing is a beautiful accessory to the pristine look of the entire condo, if you can even call a place this size a condo. I’d call it a mansion.
For a few minutes, the three of us wander around, inspecting the second story living room, the bedrooms, and the bathrooms. The second Nate here’s me gasp at the breath taking sight of the master bedroom on the bottom level he claims it as ours.
Holden doesn’t argue. He simply dismisses himself to answer his ringing phone.
Once he’s out of the room I return to gawking at the unbelievable room. The wall directly across from the king size bed covered in white sheets and pillows is made of glass to give us a view of the ocean. There are white curtains drawn back and a set of table and chairs stationed in front of it. To our left is a built-in wardrobe, all the doors and drawers cracked open inviting us to unpack. I glance to the right where Nate is leaning against the luxury glass shower built into the wall of our room. There’s a bench inside along with multiple nozzles for what I can only assume are multiple purposes. A couple feet over is the door to our bathroom with a spa sized tub as well as a sink.
Soaking in all the opulence creates an unusual knot of guilt in my stomach. I really should help pay for something even though I’m not sure I could afford a door knob here.
“Ainsley,” Nate’s slightly gruff voice cuts through my thoughts.
I turn my attention to him. “Yeah?”
“Bed.” He commands, eyes taking a familiar greedy glare. “The edge. Now.”
A small whimper escapes and I back up until my knees hit it. I drop down to where I’m requested and press my lips together in anticipation of further instructions.
“Legs. Wide.”
I wiggle my dress around to open them as far as they’ll go.
For a moment, Nate simply stares at the sight of my bare pussy exposed. His eyes do what I wish his fingers would. He continues to worship it with adoration and starvation alike. My pussy throbs in titillation while my nipples harden to the point of pain.
Finally, he begins to move towards me, attention still pasted on his prize.
“Aren’t you gonna shut the door first?”
There isn’t hesitation in his voice. “No.”
With intensity I watch him lower himself to his knees and let his hands travel up my thighs. His expression seems to grow hotter as his fingers inch closer to the spot I’ve been desperate to have them for hours.
“Lean back,” he commands.
I do as I’m told and brace my palms firmly on bed. The feeling of his hot breath caressing my clit while his tongue waits to join it feels like slow, lecherous torture.
Nate’s fingers drag themselves upward until they are anchored on my hips. He calmly states, “Don’t hold back those screams,” and yanks my pussy to his eager mouth.
The initial feeling of his tongue robs a sharp breath from me, but its immediate pressure and deliberately sluggish speed shift the moan I know he’s anxious to hear. His grip becomes harsher and his movements become hungrier, every push of his tongue harder than the last. Nate buries his face deeper, devouring my wetness in a ravenous rotation of sucks and strong strokes. My legs begin to quake and threaten to close, but he forces them to stay in place. Reminds me I’m not in charge here. That I’m never in charge of my own orgasms. That it’s his duty to please me and he never wants it taken from him.
Thoughtlessly, my panting increases and my eyes roll shut. I grip the comforter tighter and continuously rock my hips to meet the luscious lashing he’s mercilessly delivering. Nate takes a nip at my clit and is instantly rewarded with the sound of his name sung. He hums his approval before he switches his efforts to include his newly discovered delicious torment. As always, he brings me to the cliff of coming and dangles me there like a ragdoll who could be disintegrated with nothing more than a soft, simple blow.
All of a sudden the desperation to come out weighs the desperation to breathe. My lungs burn and beg for reprieve as I bellow out my begging, “Let me come, Nate!”
He answers my prayer by giving me a hard tug against his tongue and pressing it tightly against my clit. In a fit of orgasmic cries, my entire body quakes while Nate becomes gluttonous in his efforts to swallow every last drop of his reward.
Just as my body threatens to collapse and enjoy the sexual haze it can barely breathe through, a deep voice states, “Well at least you finally learned to do that right.”
I squeak at the same time my eyes shoot open to see a slightly large, bald headed man, leaned against the wall closest to our bedroom door. His dark brown eyes seem to be soaking in everything from my measurements to the rapid rate my chest can’t stop heaving.
Despite my efforts to push Nate away, he continues to languorously roll his tongue around, making me moan against my better judgments.
The man folds his arms across his wide t-shirt covered chest and stifles his growl. Is he jealous he’s not the one between my legs or is he turned on by the fact he gets to stand there watching?
Unexpectedly, wetness arises in the aching area where my boyfriend’s face is still buried.
His light licks increase in force.
I helplessly moan, which is when the man leering lets the corner of his lip tug upward. His husky voice states, “Make her come again, bro.”
Without any more warning, Nate returns to the fervid pattern he used earlier, except this time the brutality of it all increases thanks to him adding a finger inside of me. My muscles clamp down around the guest and my breath hitches each time he thrusts it forward. The combination of being fucked in tandem by his tongue and his finger leaves no time to prolong the inevitable. Nate’s nips become sharper against the hardened nub while he pounds away at my pussy as if in a pursuit to prove more than his ability to get me off. Tangled in the erotic feeling of being watched and the carnal feeling of being claimed, another sharp cry of his name leaves my lips. I come again, this time keeping my head forward and eyes on our visitor. My body trembles against Nate’s tongue and he groans his victory like a barbarian receiving his greatest reward yet.
Unable to take another moment my body collapses backwards against the bed.
The stranger lightly chuckles. “You kill her?”
His mouth finally frees the sensitive flesh he’s been feasting between. Nate gently rearranges my dress and leans over to peer at my face. The sight of blue eyes sparkling swells my heart with more love than ever before. This wasn’t just about getting me off or making his friend jealous. This was about knowing no matter the circumstance I’m willing to give myself to him. And that’s scary and probably not the safest thing to do, but I always will. He just makes me feel that secure. No wonder Sloane is worried about me….I can hear how crazy I sound. What’s worse is I don’t care.
“Nah…She’s alive.” Still beaming at me, he whispers, “I love you, Kid.”
I mouth back, “I love you, Teach.”
“Well now that you’ve had a snack, why don’t you two come join us on the back patio? We’ll open a couple beers. Get the grill going.”
Nate nods his agreement and then descends my lips. The taste of my own flavor whirls around my tongue at the same time footsteps seem to leave our room. I fight the urge to get turned on for a third time.
When he pulls back, I ask, “Who was that?”
“That was Pax.” He stands completely up and offers a hand to help me to my feet. “Let’s go make you a proper introduction.”
A small blush hits my cheeks. His arm drapes around my shoulder and I lean into his hold. Why wouldn’t I feel protected with him by my side? How could I ever feel anything else?
I watch the sun begin to set from the patio couch I’m stretched out on. After our naughty rendezvous, Nate introduced me to Pax, who was the guy with him the night we first slept together, and Wyatt who quickly praised the sound of my screams. Beers were immediately passed around for a victory toast of an orgasm well had. That was preceded with additional laughs and finally a clue into the mystery known as his bros.
Pax, while built like the muscle you hire to protect the president, Wyatt, his wild wingman, looks like something you’d find in a romantic comedy. He’s got a similar build to Nate’s but a much more deceptive smile. It’s obvious he doesn’t hear the word no very often, which makes perfect sense with how charming he seems to be. The two of them much like Holden also look closer to the age they’re all turning this year. Nate’s slightly younger appearance makes him the butt of many jokes, most of which make me giggle.
Once they felt enough formalities had occurred, including asking me proper girlfriend questions and improper ones like how many orgasms does he deliver daily, they directed their attention to enjoy each other’s company.
For the past hour Pax and Nate have been tossing the football in the sand on the other side of the deck while Wyatt has been bouncing back and forth between cooking in the kitchen and grilling. Holden’s stretched out in the chair across from me, one hand gripping his beer, the other tucked behind his head as his attention drifts off in the distance. He reminds me of Nate more than the others. It’s obvious something is broken there, something more than the death of his wife. I just don’t know what. I doubt I ever will.
“Open,” Wyatt’s voice suddenly commands.
I glance up at him in curiosity.
“She’s not Lassie, bro. Speak to her like a human.”
Wyatt wets his lips slowly in mischief.
“And not a human you wanna fuck.”
The blonde chortles. “Picky. Picky.”
A small giggle slips out at the same time Pax and Nate travel up the patio steps.
My boyfriend immediately asks, “What’s so funny?”
Holden answers before I can. “Wyatt’s trying to seduce your chick with food.”
Nate lifts my feet, sits down, and lets them settle in his lap. His eyes travel to mine surprisingly filled with mirth. “Should I be worried?”
“Never.”
“I didn’t think so.”
We exchange a warm look that’s met with groans of annoyance.
I hide my snicker and Wyatt extends a piece of grilled chicken on a fork towards me. “Try this.”
“Fuck. Manners, bro,” Holden scolds again.
“Please, try this.”
Rather than allow him to feed me a bite, I pull the piece of meat off the fork and slip it into my mouth. Instantly, the heat from the chicken fuses with the spice of the glaze setting my taste buds on fire. The burn is brutal yet so flavorful I can’t help, but moan at its excellence. The world is probably a much better place because he does this for a living.
Cockily, Wyatt says, “Looks like I can make her moan too.”
“Yeah, but you can’t make her scream,” Nate playfully sneers back.
Redness begins to fill my cheeks causing Pax to question, “You red from the food or embarrassment?”
Holden gives me a crooked smirk and states. “Both.”
The four of them laugh at my expense and the color deepens.
Never have I been treated like I was one of the guys, hell one of anything really. Even when it’s me, Sloane, and Scott, it typically reaches a couple in progress vibe that I’m just invading. Feeling welcomed and unjudged in a group like this is amazing. They’re comfortable treating me like family and I’m comfortable becoming it. Nate swears he’s the lucky one, but I think it’s me. I haven’t had anyone to truly call family since my father died and now…now I feel like I do.
As Wyatt wraps up telling us about the long process of creating his famous beer chicken with Sriracha glaze, the guys start collecting the other items for dinner insisting I stay stretched out like some sort of queen to be waited on.
Eventually, we’ve all got plates filled with grilled chicken, corn on the cob, and twice baked mashed potatoes that have bits of bacon and cheese melted on top.
It’s quiet during the first few bites as we all get lost in the incredible flavors, but eventually, Wyatt speaks up to defend himself. “Just so we’re clear, this shit is child’s play and doesn’t even touch my real skills. Even the lobster risotto was elementary school bullshit.”
“Well it’s still amazing,” I gush and lick the sauce off my thumb.
Nate groans beside me grabbing my attention.
With a wink, I repeat the action again knowing the punishment for teasing is going to be better than whatever is actually in store for dessert.
“Remember when we were all living at The Row and he made those ribs with that weird green sauce shit?” Pax recalls from the chair beside Holden.
The three of them laugh before Holden gags. “Yeah, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I was trying to bring a little culture to the group,” Wyatt bites.
“Bullshit. You were trying to bring a little culture to your cock. You were going out of your way to impress that chick you thought was Mexican but was really Puerto Rican,” Nate reminds him.
He gives a slight shrug. “I knew what I was doing. Way to a woman’s pussy is between her lips. Put something good there and her legs just drift apart…”
The retort causes all of them to chortle and deny his theory.
While we eat, they tell me stories from their college days. I learn it was called The Row because that was part of the street name their house was on. The nickname helped allow for Holden to do shit in code when messing with law enforcement and also prevented unwanted guests from overhearing information they shouldn’t have been privileged to. Everyone takes a roll in explaining the open-closed door policy of the parties and the lengths they went to keep it sacred. They recall Nate paying a college chick their age at the time to watch Holden and his dead wife’s son on party nights so they could still enjoy being young. By the time we’re all finished eating and just sitting around sipping beer, they’ve ditched the logistics and started recalling wacky moments I can hardly believe.
Wyatt scoots his chair closer to the outdoor fire pit as the wind kicks up to reminds us it’s Spring. “Watching chicks get off has always been Pax’s thing. Remember that shit with the camel?”
I try to hide the horror on my face. “What?!”
“Yeah, Pax once watched a girl fuck a camel,” Wyatt nonchalantly says and has a swig of his beer. “He’s a kinky fucker.”
“I didn’t watch her fuck a camel, asshole,” Pax declares defensively from the other side of the pit, closer to where Holden is in his chair. “I watched her try to jerk it off.”
Shaking my head slowly, I cringe, “That’s not much better.”
“Exactly,” Holden adds with a chuckle.
“Wait.” I adjust my feet that are back in Nate’s lap. “Why did you have a camel to begin with?”
“Because you can’t have an Arabian themed party without a camel,” Wyatt says as if I’ve offended him.
“Remember that Jell-O slip and slide we had for Nate’s birthday sophomore year?” Pax questions with mirth in his voice.
“Man, I was picking Jell-O out of my ass for weeks,” Holden complains. “And that shit stained Beth’s hair so bad she had to lie and tell people she died it on purpose.”
More laughs fill the air and I watch in awe of the friendship they’ve spent years cultivating. As much as I love Sloane, sometimes I wonder if we’ll make it past the summer. I mean, isn’t that what happens when you go to college? You lose those you were close to in high school? What if I lose Nate?
My attention swings to him just as he tosses his head back in deep laughter.
No. Graduating may end up dividing me from my best friend solely because we’re going to end up at two different colleges, but nothing can take me away from Nate. Nothing.
“Then there was that time you were trying to blow a shot gun in that girl’s mouth,” Wyatt continues a story I missed the beginning of thanks to my insecure thoughts. He pauses and looks at me, “Do you know what a shot gun is? Do people still fucking do that?”
I have a small sip of my beer. “Isn’t that where you blow your pot smoke into someone else’s mouth?”
Nate’s head sharply turns to me. “You smoke?”
With a reassuring smile, I shake my head. “Relax. I’m a good girl.”
“Except when you’re being really bad like in a concession stand closet,” Holden mutters, grabbing our eyes.
My jaw hits the ground in surprise while Nate tries to hide his guilt.
“Ditching the shot gun story to hear this one,” Pax declares. “You fucked in a closet on campus?!”
“Can we….” Nate’s voice struggles to stay even. “Can we finish one Nate story before moving onto the next?”
“Yeah,” I encourage not wanting to talk about it either, but not because I’m embarrassed so much as I know once we do, I’ll want to disappear to our room to recreate it. “What happened with the shot gun?”
Wyatt’s inebriated state allows for easy distraction and I’m relieved. “OH! Yeah. So your boyfriend was blowing one into this redhead’s mouth and then bleh.” He mimics vomiting. “Threw up right in her mouth! It was insane!”
“It was fucking raunchy,” Pax says, beginning to laugh.
“And that was the last time I ever tried to do one of those,” Nate sheepishly sighs.
All of us laugh together and bask in their memories.
Having a look at the man Nate used to be, the one he keeps tightly tied up unless he’s with me, is remarkable. It makes me love him so much more than I already do. I hope someday, the wild and reckless guy is more comfortable coming out than just during sex.
“I wanna make a toast before I crash,” Holden states, preparing to lift his beer.
“Already?” Wyatt whines.
“Some of us have been up since the ass crack of dawn,” he reminds him. “And have to be up again at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Why?”
My question receives his attention. Without delivering too much information he informs, “Work.”
“But aren’t you on vacation?”
Holden’s face becomes one that instills sympathy in me. “No real vacation for me until time served is complete.”
His odd choice of words clamp my mouth shut. What the hell does that mean?
Nate’s hand begins to stroke my thigh in a comforting way. We lock eyes and he simply shakes his head as if to imply I should let it go. So I do.
“This is a big year for all of us,” Holden quickly begins before I can change my mind on asking more questions. “We hit the 3-0 and that means something. We’ve spent our 20s together wreaking havoc and then paying for it in tenfold. Let’s spend our 30s making better memories. Making ones that matter. With people who matter.”
They raise their beer together in solidarity and I raise mine as a toast of encouragement.
Doesn’t matter that this isn’t a milestone birthday for me this year. He’s still right. You should spend your time making memories with people who matter, despite your age. And that’s exactly what I’m going to keep doing.