I’m a little offended about his train of thought.
He grimaces. “You really aren’t. And I know it. But as good as we are, seems I’ve got issues that flare up once in a while.”
“Why tonight? The meeting was bad? Is Vienna really with your dad?”
“I guess I get uptight too, not anxiety like yours, but man, my dad and shit with him really triggers the worst in me. No, Vienna’s not with him, and I’ll probably keep her as my agent after all. But I was pissed off about all of it.”
He moves his lips to my collarbone and starts kissing up my neck, signaling he’s shelving this conversation. I’m cool with that.
“Thanks for pulling me into the pool,” he murmurs.
“You don’t sound sarcastic,” I point out as I refrain from squirming too much on his lap. After all, we’re still in public, even if no one’s around.
“It snapped me out of a funk. But damn, these wet boxers and shorts are not real comfortable right now,” he comments.
I’m tempted to help him change out of them in the back of his van, but we hear Taylor calling out, “Hey! I thought you were coming out here to find something for a ramp!”
He feigns outrage, but I’m glad he came out to check on us when he did. Otherwise we were about to forget all about the ramp and the party. Taylor shows us what he’s managed to scrounge up, a couple of boards that seem sturdy enough to drop in. What we need now is some way we can get air.
Beck’s van is sort of like this magical genie that always seems to have everything we need, no matter how random. So when he pulls out two giant wooden wedges used to play cornhole from under the bed in back, I’m not even surprised. “Do you always keep those there?” I wonder, having never seen them before.
“No, Mom and Marco were talking about how they played for the first time at a potluck the other day and had a lot of fun. So I put these together with some extra wood pieces at the Brazen Shop. I keep meaning to paint them.”
Our Sunday night family dinners have been hit and miss with him living a little farther away now. “Let’s do it this weekend, we can bring them over for Sunday dinner.”
Taylor grabs one. “First let’s put these to good use as a sick pool jump.”
I grab the other one so Beck can change into a bathing suit before joining us. The ramp design takes some trial and error but we end up with one epic setup. It’s definitely not for beginners, but it allows us to skate down a shaky ramp to get a little speed, and then up a double-stacked cornhole wedge. My roommates and Coby and his group of surfers have always claimed that their skateboarding skills are weak, but they prove they’re perfectly competent when they take turns. Beck and I stick to modest tricks but Taylor’s all about flips and shock value, which Ellie gushes over. It’s weird seeing Zora and Brie exchange touches and looks, not because it’s two girls but because it’s Zora. I’ve never seen her with anyone, and she’s always seemed so intent on her independence, on staying single. But this relationship looks good on her too.
We’re having too much fun to turn in, and by the time we finally do, Beck has to carry me up the stairs to my bedroom I’m so tired. Okay fine, he doesn’t really have to carry me, but I have him lift me anyway, and deliver me right to my bed. He takes a long look at me. When he peels my bathing suit off, I’m expecting his suit to drop a second later, but he returns with my underwear and a sleep shirt. “Hey,” I protest as he starts to slide my underwear up my leg. “I’m not ready for bed yet.”
“Too tired to walk up the stairs but not too tired for sex?” Beck’s eyes are laughing at me from under his eyelashes.
“Beck, you’re kneeling in front of me and you’ve got me laid out on my bed. What do you expect?”
“It’s three in the morning, Hotshot. You rarely stay up past ten. I thought you’d be asleep before I pulled your underwear on.”
I fling the underwear off my foot and place my leg on his shoulder. “Well, I am sleepy. But I didn’t say I was doing any of the