He’s wrong.
I would not only give him the time of day; I’d let him have some of my night.
Now, to figure out how to avoid Dad. Clearly, I’m no virgin, but he has it in his head that I am. He doesn’t have any clue that I had a boyfriend in college, who I hid from my family for obvious reasons. He’d be dead, and they’d be in jail. And by they, I mean Dad.
I’ve had my rebound fuck … and he’s not allowed in my head anymore. But I can’t make it stop. There is no way he could have been that good. I’m sure it was the fact that I’d had Danny for so long that taking in some strange, and the way in which it all went down, was what really got me off.
No matter. He doesn’t deserve me, and now I’m going to find something to take the taste of him … out of my mouth.
I drink the rest of the champagne in my glass, watching the man watching me. Then I reach behind me and pat the itch on my back caused by the tattoo I’m hiding.
She is beauty … She is wisdom … She is strength … She is love … She is me.
My idea. Mine, not his.
Beauty represents my mother, who died while giving birth to me. In the pictures, she is younger than I am now, and she is stunning. Everyone tells me I look just like her, except for the fact that I have my father’s coloring, and she was … is blonde.
Wisdom is my maternal grandmother, who raised me from the day I was born until she died when I was eight. Everything she taught me is still remembered, and as I get older, I realize that each “lesson” was something that was relevant then and has continued to be.
Strength represents Momma Joe, who doesn’t let anything hold her back or hold her down. She pushes forward no matter what this harsh, cruel world has done to hold her. She pushes forward, and not just for her but for all of us.
Love, love is Momma Carly. From everything I have seen or heard, or been a part of, she is the epitome of love.
I can’t wait until things aren’t crazy, meaning I can’t wait to move into my own place so I can be alone in the bathroom, or my own room, for that matter, without Kiki or Max busting in.
“Soon,” I say on a sigh. “Very soon.”
I watch as they all start disappearing by twos until only Dad and Carly are still dancing.
I love the way they look at each other. I laugh while thinking about how he can be so angry at her one minute for doing something to make him that way. It’s always something non-life-threatening, but by his reaction, you’d think otherwise. Yet, he never stops looking at her the way he is now. Someday, I hope I can have that.
Love.
Until then, something that feels kind of like love will work.
When Dad and Carly are gone, I make my way to the bar, which happens to be exactly halfway between me and the hot man … Or, at least I hope he’s as hot as I think; it is dark.
I place my empty glass on the bar, laughing to myself again while thinking, If he’s not really that hot, the champagne will make him appear that way.
Holding up two fingers, I tell the bartender, “Two please.”
I drink the first one down just in case he’s not that good-looking then set down the flute and grab the other. I’m starting to turn around when I look up and see the man I’ve been ogling for the past hour standing right next to me.
“I thought maybe that one was for me.” The side of his mouth turns upward slightly in a smile. I swear his teeth sparkle as he looks away and nods to the bartender, holding up two fingers.
I swipe my tongue over my teeth, hoping they’ll sparkle like his do. “I would have, but I wasn’t sure if you were part of the cast or crew.”
He turns and leans against the bar, taking a drink before asking, “Which are you?”
“Crew, of course. Just like you.” I raise my glass and wink.
Now, it’s really not a lie. This is indeed quite a crew.
I drink slower now, not wanting to be totally inebriated, because this man is hot, like seriously hot, and also the polar opposite of … what’s-his-name. I want to remember this one.
He has a full head of dark blond hair, blue eyes, a day or two worth of stubble covering his jaw, and a body that is definitely rocking the black V-neck, khaki cargo shorts, and flip flops.
I see him eyeing me the same as I am him, taking me all in.
I am in a Dad-approved swimsuit, even though I can’t go swimming for a while. The top isn’t all that revealing, which of course makes Dad happy, and the bottoms … well, I’m wearing a wrap for a reason.
When his eyes finally make their way up to mine, he asks, “You thinking about going for a swim?”
I set my glass down and smile. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things.”
His smile grows. “Is that so?”
I shrug. “Weren’t we both?”
He looks me over again, slower this time, his eyes darkening, yet he says nothing.
No matter. It is what it is … God, I hope it is.
My mouth is suddenly dry, so I drink down the rest of the champagne, for courage this time, and then set the empty on the bar. “I’m going to take a walk toward the back of the boat.” I place my hand against his waist, and I smile inwardly when I feel how hard his abs are. Abs, I love abs. “I might get thirsty.”
He licks his lips, eyes cast downward, looking at my chest.
I step back and turn around, allowing him to take in more of my assets. I look over my shoulder and give him the sultriest look I can pull off then slowly walk away.
I hear him behind me … and so do my nipples.
He’s hot. So hot. Definitely hotter than Danny and maybe even hotter than … what’s his name?
I slow down, allowing him to catch up. He swings his arm around me from behind, a glass of champagne in his hand.
I stop and look behind me. He’s looking down at me with beautiful eyes.
I tip my head back and close my eyes as his lips come closer to mine …
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing young—”
I turn my head quickly and groan, “Daddy, go away!”
The arm in front of me quickly disappears as Dad stomps toward me. I look past him, knowing Carly will make him … behave, but she’s not there.
Dammit!
“—really fucking young, lady.”
Buzzed and pissed, I decide to take care of the situation the way I was taught to handle my shit … by him!
Rule number one: Make sure you’re right before you start some shit.
I know I’m right. I’m of legal age!
Rule number two: Be confident enough to handle your shit.
So, I go with that.
I hit him with rule number one, holding up my hand and telling him, “Dad, I’m of legal age to drink.”
“Dad?” I hear tall, blond, and gorgeous snarl from behind me.
Dad’s about to say something, so I hit him with rule number two.
“To be clear, I’m an adult, so this”—I motion between me and … aw hell, I don’t know his name either—“is none of your business.”
“You will always be my fucking business, Little Bell.” He points at me then at the hottie. “And what the fuck are you thinking, Arnesen?”
Arnesen? Oh damn, he’s Paige’s, the bride’s, brother.
“I was thinking she was thirsty,” he snaps back at Dad.