“That’s my job,” he grinned crookedly. “What’s life without a little excitement?”
“Boring,” I answered unnecessarily.
“Exactly,” he snapped his fingers, “and who wants boring?”
“Not me. That’s why I’m stuck with you,” I giggled.
“Stuck?” He raised a brow. “I should be offended.”
“But you’re not?”
“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean. I’m stuck with you too,” he grinned. “Because there’s no one else that could handle all of this,” he did an awkward shimmy, since he was sitting, as he pointed to himself.
“Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh, “I don’t think there’s anyone else that could handle you…or put up with your horrible dancing skills.”
He gasped, draping his towel on top of me since I was still shivering, and then wrapped his arm around me. “My dancing is awesome. Just because you aren’t familiar with the style doesn’t mean it isn’t good.”
“You look like your having a seizure when you dance,” I smiled up at him, “that isn’t normal.”
“I don’t need rhythm on the dance floor when I have it in the bed,” he grinned, thrusting his hips for good measure.
“Can you—I don’t know—not do that in public?” I groaned, fighting a blush.
His smile widened. “What difference does it make when you’re the one reaping the benefits?”
“Do you think before you speak?” I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief.
“No,” he snorted, “where’s the fun in that?”
“Sometimes, you’re as bad as Avery, and that’s saying something,” I groaned, kicking at a pebble.
“There’s no point in sugar coating things,” he shrugged, drawing his knees up and draping his arms on top.
Marcus came over and smiled down at us. “I noticed your license plate and saw that you guys are from Virginia. Are you passing through or might you stay here a bit?”
Trace shrugged. “Maybe. We’re on a road trip and we don’t exactly have much of a plan.”
“Excellent,” Marcus smiled. “I’m having a bonfire down by the lake tonight if you want to stay and hangout. There’s also room at my house if you want to stay the night. My wife won’t mind. I think she’s sick of me anyway and would like some company,” he chortled.
Trace looked at me skeptically. I shrugged in response to his look.
“Sounds good,” Trace smiled at Marcus. “A bonfire would be nice and we just might take you up on your offer for a place to stay.”
“Great,” Marcus clapped his hands together. “I better get back over there. We have a group of college kids coming. They can be a bit rowdy, they tend to show up drunk.”
“Have fun with that,” Trace chuckled.
“Oh, I will,” Marcus cackled as he walked away.
“You hungry,” Trace asked me, raking his fingers through his slightly damp hair.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “but I’m still wet.”
“We’ll go through a drive-thru then,” he stood, shaking off the pebbles that clung to his jeans.
“You really want to get your beloved Camaro’s seats wet?” I eyed him questioningly.
“Damn,” he muttered, “I forgot about that.” He put his hands on his hips, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t we just change? A bra and panties is equivalent to a bikini,” he pointed at me.