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“Gross, Livy.” Oliver grimaced and leaned away from his twin.
Tori laughed. “Only you three. Everyone else has to take it down the beach to the porta pots,” she said.
Jenna looked relieved. “Thank you,” she rushed out, then the three of them hurried passed us.
Tori and I headed outside, carefully carrying our trays down the steps, and slid them onto the tables set up beside the railing. There were already condiments put out and aluminum pans filled with burger toppings and utensils.
“Okay, so, are you good?” Tori asked, moving to stand inside her booth and tying on her work apron.
The sunlight caught her square-cut diamond ring, making it sparkle.
I’d seen Tori’s ring a handful of times already. I knew it was stunning. Probably worth a fortune. And it fit her delicate hand perfectly. Until six days ago, I’d never seen a prettier ring.
Until I did see a prettier ring.
Sadness flooded me, along with this strange hurt I’d never felt before. The pain felt hollow and heavy at the same time, like it scooped out all my insides, taking bone and blood and replacing it with nothing, leaving me an empty, gaping wound.
A hole so deep, it would never see any sunlight.
God, why did I come here today? I never should’ve left my bed.
“Shay?”
My head snapped up at the sound of my name, and I locked on to Tori’s curious expression.
Shit.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, quickly dropping my glasses down when agony stung and made my eyes water. I bit the inside of my cheek and prayed for a pain I could get angry at instead.
A blistered mouth felt promising.
Tori looked momentarily unsure, but quickly covered it with a pageant-winning smile as she turned her display sign toward the crowd, showing food prices and choices. “You got this, Shay. Just have fun with it,” she told me, waving at the line quickly forming behind where I stood.
I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d be having fun at anything any time soon, but I kept that to myself, and with sagging shoulders, I turned and crossed the parking lot.
I passed the face-painting booth and waved meekly at Syd, who was cleaning off her brushes in a cup of water while a little girl sat waiting in a chair, swinging her legs excitedly.
Like Tori, Syd also knew what all had gone down six days ago. But I couldn’t talk about it with her yet either.
And I communicated that by not pausing or slowing in my steps when she appeared eager for conversation.
The smile she was wearing changed from encouraging to subtle and understanding.
Reaching the far end of the lot, I slid into the booth beside Cole, who had his back to the line and was discreetly scrubbing a rag over his suntanned cheek.
“Rough start?” I asked, pushing my glasses on top of my head again, since we were shaded inside the booth.
“Nah, I’m just doing this every tenth person or so,” he said. “Or if someone uses tongue.”
My back straightened. “What?”
Gross! People were using tongue?
Cole chuckled and tucked his rag into his pocket. “It’s not that bad. I am grateful for a break, though.” He turned back around and flattened his hands on the booth, informing the crowd, “It’s time for the guys to pony up some cash! We got Shay up now. Ladies, I’ll be back in thirty.”
Collective groans filled the air before the women in the line dispersed.
I felt panic tickle my spine. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stepped closer to Cole.
“You could keep going, you know? We could do this together. I lure the crowd, you do the kissing. It’s a win-win for everyone, really.”
“Even the dudes?”
“Sure, why not?”
Cole smirked as he grabbed the can of soda off the ledge of the booth and took a quick drink. “I gotta take a piss,” he explained, checking the time on his watch. “And I wanna call Kali and see how Cameron’s doing. I shouldn’t be too long.”
I felt a slow-moving warmth fill my chest—contentment for Kali and her quiet romance with Cole. And even though it should’ve surprised me, appreciating someone else’s union when I had so recently severed my own, it didn’t.
I was happy for my friend.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and stepped up to the front of the booth, my fingers tangling together on the ledge next to the jar labeled $5 for a Smooch. “I’m not sure how well this is going to go…I’m really just planning on talking to people.”
No fucking way was I kissing anyone.
Cole stepped out of the booth and stood in front of it, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and cut a sharp whistle through the air that had heads turning and eyes focusing on me.
The DJ turned down the music.
Oh, crap.
“The kissing booth is open!” Cole hollered. “And five dollars to kiss Shay seems like highway robbery if you ask me. She’s hot.”
