“You need to just get it over with,” Sam says as I approach. He leans against the shed, arms lazily crossed in front of him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I really don't have a clue. I’ve already kissed Josh, so he can’t be talking about that. And I know Sam isn’t suggesting we sleep together after one weekend. If he is, these boys have another thing coming. I don’t know what kind of girls they’re used to, but I don’t spread my legs easily. It took Ashley and I three years to get to that point and the handful of times we did it were nothing but painful, sometimes bloody, disappointments.
“All right, be that way, but you’re going to give into him eventually. I can see it already, even if you can’t.”
Sam’s words make me nervous. Is my attraction to Josh that obvious? “Whatever you think you’re seeing, you’re wrong. Josh and I are just friends.”
Friends that kiss. No big deal. Right?
“Whatever you say, sunshine.” Sam pushes off the shed when Josh ambles back towards us. He leaves me alone, left to wonder how obvious I am and if I should tone things down.
I don’t have long to think before the bang of one gun and then the other makes me lose my train of thought. Both Josh and Sam have a gun in hand, taking turns shooting until they run out of targets.
The guys laugh, having a moment I’m not a part of. Back home, with Ashely and his friends, I’d feel left out. I never felt like I belonged with them, but things are different here. I can’t explain it, but there’s a comforting feeling I’ve never felt before. It’s even stronger when I’m in Josh’s arms.
Josh and Sam race across the grass to the table, nearly barreling into it. They pick up the busted target
s, throwing them at each other, then having to pick them up again, and toss them into a bucket. Once everything is cleaned, they stride back towards me, Sam carrying the waste, Josh laughing at something else I can’t hear.
“Sam.” Josh slaps him on the back when they get close. “It’s been real and it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun.”
Sam snickers and pulls Josh in for a man-hug. “See you later, brother.” Sam tips his hat at me. “Layla, until next time, darlin’.”
“So,” Josh says, his voice husky and low as he drives me back to Hattie’s house. “What are the chances of me seeing you again?”
“I…” My chest constricts, each breath becoming a struggle. Somewhere deep inside, I know if I give into these emotions, Josh is going to change me. I’m just not sure if it’s going to be a good change or not. “I don’t know, slim.”
Josh’s jaw hardens. He pauses, gazing off into the distance. We pull into the grassy knoll beside Hattie's house and Josh shifts the truck into park. He sits back in the seat, the engine still running, and stares at the tiny house before us. I wait, not sure if I should stay or go, because I want to do both.
Josh nods, thinking to himself, then grabs his phone off the magnetic holder on the dash. “Can I have your number again?”
“Yeah.” I let out a breathy laugh, easing the tension in my chest. With trembling hands, I take the phone from him and type my number in under the name “the sexiest girl you’ve ever met.” It’s a bold move, but when I hand Josh his phone, a smile tugs at his lips.
“Yes, ma’am, you are.” He shoots me a text, and my phone dings in my back pocket. His finger brushes against my cheek, touching me delicately, like a rose petal he doesn’t want to bruise. I look up into his eyes, my breath catching in my throat.
Josh leans across the armrest and presses his lips to mine again. There’s no tongue with this kiss, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a swarm of butterflies going crazy inside me.
All too soon, he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. I keep my eyes closed, knowing that if I open them I’ll give into the temptation to kiss him again, really kiss him, and then there’s no telling how far I’ll go.
Josh backs away, and before I can lift my eyelids, the car door shuts. I look up and see him running around the front of the truck. He opens the passenger door for me. I unclick my seat belt and take the outstretched hand. He closes my door and walks me up Hattie’s driveway.
When we reach the front of the house, he tucks his hands in his pockets and says, “I’m glad we got to spend the morning together.”
“Me too.”
He leans in, pressing another quick kiss to my lips before saying ,“’Bye,” and walking away.
There are five fundraisers within a hundred miles of Fellsmere tonight, but only one is in Orlando, a benefit for a local girl who’s been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis.
Thank fuck I convinced Hattie to tell me what city she picked Layla up from. Tickets ranged from seventy-five to two hundred and fifty dollars each. While I would have bought one for each event, I doubt I could have made it to all of them in time. Knowing my luck, I would have gone to the one in Orlando last, missed the whole thing, and blew my shot.
The only reason I was able to purchase a ticket at the last minute was because one of the patrons came down with the flu, and there was an empty seat. The woman on the phone, hearing my southern drawl this morning, made it a point to tell me this was a formal event.
Three times.
So, I pulled my suit from prom out of the closet, squeezed as much of my fat ass into it that I could, and drove the hour and a half to surprise a chick who has barely responded to me all week. Layla better feel loved.
When I get to the venue, every space in the designated parking lot is taken. I circle the lot and the adjacent street before finding an open spot behind a red Mercedes-Benz on a side alley. I grab the bouquet of flowers from my passenger seat then follow a stream of people inside. After checking in at a table near the entrance, I’m given a card with my table assignment and allowed to enter.