“I’m sure I’m too fucking hungover for that shit.” She flicks her sunglasses down over her eyes and leans back in the chair so that the umbrella can shade her. “That’s a shit ton of spinning right after a night of shots, Scooby. I don’t really wanna puke out in the middle of the ocean.”
“Pussy.”
“Is what you won’t be feasting on for lunch if you don’t just kiss me and get the fuck out of my face.”
Gillette loudly laughs and leans over to do what he’s told. Afterwards, Stratton and Rutledge follow suit, both snatching up their boards and kissing their girlfriends one last time. They stroll away side by side towards Peck who has been walking the waterline of the beach all alone like a bored lifeguard with nothing to do.
Hugo grabs his accessory to join them prompting me to playfully tease, “Um…where’s my kiss goodbye?”
Hesitation is non-existent.
He swiftly presses his mouth to mine and unleashes his tongue inside as if punishing me for questioning would he have the balls to do this in public. I helplessly groan at the sexual aggression being delivered at an alarmingly accelerating rate and find myself unable to stay upright. Hugo counters my melting by firmly anchoring his hand around the back of my neck.
Supporting me.
The idea of us.
A real us instead of the one weekend hookup session I swear this is.
Too many emotions suddenly swell my chest, suffocating me in a way I don’t approve of.
Thankfully, he pulls back, wipes away the spit that landed in the corner of my lip, and shoots me a cocky wink over his ability to silence me.
Asshole.
He happily jogs away to catch up with his friends, and the girls all wait until they’re certain he’s out of earshot to begin any sort of commentary.
“I owe G sex in the hot tub,” Mo heavily sighs from the chair farthest from me.
My white, retro bold, Jackie O style sunglasses are pulled down over my eyes as I ask, “You bet Hugo wouldn’t kiss me where you could all see?”
“No, I bet G that you two wouldn’t hook up at all. Rhinehart’s not exactly the ‘fling’ type.”
True.
Though, that’s all this is.
He knows that.
He has to know that.
After all, he knows me.
Fuck, he knows me better than I know me somedays.
“I didn’t even know Rhinehart had a type,” Tatum says in the seat beside Mo.
“I didn’t even know Rhinehart liked people,” Poppy thoughtlessly interjects.
My head falls sarcastically to one side. “People or guys?”
“People!” She squeaks, wiggling nose pushing her oversized glasses around. “I didn’t even know he had other friends outside the team until you got on the plane yesterday.”
“Looking back on the expressions they wore, I don’t think Adrian, Rutledge, or Peck knew, either,” Tatum swiftly announces.
“Rhinehart’s a pretty private person,” Mo casually adds. “I mean had I not stopped by his apartment with G to occasionally get shots, I wouldn’t have known.”
“Shots?” Poppy’s head snaps my direction. “What kinda shots? And, who gets shots for fun?!”
“Juice shots, baby girl,” I sassily reassure her. “Hugo makes some of the most amazing health shit in that kitchen of his. Shots. Shakes. Smoothies. He’s even taking an extra nutritional class this summer to help him start a specialized healthy living program for the athletes on campus based on their specific sport for his final thesis project for graduation.”
“What?!” The three of them croak at me in unison.
“How do you guys not know this shit?”
“He hardly speaks!” Mo cries out first.
“He statistically contributes the least amount of content to any conversation.” Tatum folds her hands together on top of the sudoku book in her lap. “This includes the topic of hockey. That one is ironically enough dominated by Peck who comes in a close second on not contributing much to other subjects.”
Sounds exactly right about Peck.
I’ve only spent the last day and a half with the dude and already know if it doesn’t involve their beloved sport, he doesn’t have much to say.
I get the vibe that the chicks he hooks up with are either die-hard fans or do all the talking.
“Still,” I pull at the legs of my tropical print swim trunks, “I’m sure he’s mentioned the program idea at least once.”
They each shake their head.
“Seriously? You guys aren’t fucking with me?”
They shake their heads once more.
“He’s seriously never brought up the fact his major was originally pre-med or-”
“Cheeseandrice!” Tatum interjects in outrage. “Did you say pre-med?! His original major was in pre-med?! Do you have any idea how low the percentage is for those who enroll in that program and actually finish it is?”
“Uh…no? But I get the feeling you do.”
“She knows a lot of math shit,” Mo jovially informs.
“Depending on the data you use will depend on the number you get but at Vlasta, the number of pre-meds students that switch majors is sixty-three percent.” She swings her legs to the edge of her chair to let her body completely face me. “The fact you said originally informs me Rhinehart is one of those individuals that makes up that dishearteningly high statistic.”
“Yeah, but not because he couldn’t handle the presh.” A proud grin grows on my face. “It was because he discovered his fascination wasn’t with all of the human body so much as the relationship between the human body and food. He didn’t wanna waste hours dabbling in other bullshit when he could focus everything he had on doing shit he was passionate about.”
“I think we all can all relate to that,” Poppy quietly sighs.
“Hugo prefers to only dedicate his energy to tasks and people that matter to him. And, that list, unlike my best friend, is pretty fucking short.” I slyly state on a smile. “But, you can all rest assured, your asses, and your boyfriends’ asses, are on it.”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Mo sharply turns on her chair to completely face me too, “you can’t just say that shit and not give us details.”
“You knew about us?” Poppy nervously questions. “Like before yesterday?”
“I’ve known about you,” I casually point to her, “since an air hockey competition sophomore year,” my finger moves to Tatum, “you since the Risky Business ensemble I was hella jealous I couldn’t pull off,” my gesture moves once more as does my frame, “and you since you threatened to bear mace his other best friend at the gym.”