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“Serves you right,” I remark, letting my laugh die down.
“Whatever,” Kingston spits in the phone. I know he is playing mad, but he knows I fucking got him. I wait a second and check over my shoulder, I can’t see Shayla but I hear the faint distinct sound of a blow dryer.
“Hey, Kingston, all joking aside. You’re okay with this, right? I mean, your approval means the most to me.” I pause and wait for him to answer, but it doesn’t come right away.
Taking a deep breath through the phone, he finally responds. “Honestly, I never wanted my little bug to get married. She’s Shayla, man.” He stops and I nod silently. “But I know that’s unrealistic, I can’t keep her to myself and never let her get married. I’m just wicked fucking possessive over her. She’s my little sister, my everything. You know me and my fucking ways.”
I raise a brow and nod my head in agreement. “Yes. I do. Shit, hopefully you only have boys when you have kids. A little girl wouldn’t be able to survive you.”
“Fuck you. Anyway, I can’t hold her back and expect her to be forever single, but I can make sure she finds someone decent enough.”
“Damn, thanks, buddy,” I reply sarcastically. I’m glad to know I’m decent, shit—he doesn’t even try to spare my feelings. I guess best friend rights are revoked when it comes to Shayla. Honestly though, I’m okay with that—because I would do the same.
“You know what I mean, I just worry about her. But you’re my best friend, and I need to trust you. I do trust you.” He pauses and I stay silent.
“Listen, just take care of her,” he finishes, and I wait just a moment longer. When he doesn’t speak again, I take the floor.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise. She’s the one in control here. Okay?”
“She better be.”
“Thanks for being protective over her, Kingston.” The way he’s worrying about her confirms how fucking blessed I am to have her as mine.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“YOU LOOK LIKE A DREAM in that dress, ba
by.” I admire Shayla, in her long white dress; it’s loose around her body, except her chest where it fits like a dream. The straps hang to the side of her arms, her thin neck, shoulders, and collarbone exposed. Her skin is glowing in the soft setting sun, feeling warm under my touch, evidence from our day in the sun. I’m standing here, rubbing her shoulders, while she stands in front of me at the bar top. It reminds me of a large tiki hut. It’s a U-shaped bar that’s surrounded by tin stools and held up by metal beams, straw covering the top. It’s right on the sand of the beach, just a short distance to the water line.
“You look sexy in your swim trunks and hat. I really like seeing you relaxed like this.” Her head tilts back, landing against the space between my pecs.
“I could do this all day. Drink margaritas, love on my girl, and watch the sun set.” Shayla spins, wrapping her arms slowly around my waist, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“Yeah?”
“Yep.” The noise of loud laughter and music catches our attention. Looking over to the makeshift dance floor, we notice some people dancing to the DJ’s music. The upbeat dance song playing is near the end and when the next number starts up, it’s one I know Shayla loves. She blares it any time it comes on in the car, singing carelessly in her sweet off-key voice.
“Eek! Babe, I love this song! Do you love me enough to dance?” She prods anxiously, leaping from her seat; she starts bouncing on the balls of her feet. I would do anything she asked me to, especially when she looks so carefree.
“Lead the way, beautiful.” She turns, grabbing my hand, our bare feet picking up speed toward the dance floor. When the first line of Brett Eldridge’s song, “Drunk on Your Love,” comes through the speakers, her already wide smile grows even bigger. The pink lipstick she’s wearing makes her white smile shine brighter.
Shayla starts spinning around to the words, completely losing herself in her own element, while I stand back and admire her flawless body, swaying beautifully in front of me.
Every word he says speaks the words of who Shayla and I are, drunk on love, high on each other, and so fucking gone. Stopping her mid twirl when the chorus kicks in, I step close to her body, chest to chest. I lift both our hands in the air, our fingertips touch then I slide my fingers down hers so they fill the empty spaces between. I sway my hips along with hers, our bodies completely in sync, the world around us falling away. I lean in to kiss her, but lose her when she pulls away, stretching out at arm’s length, her hands still attached to mine. I take the hint and spin her into me, her back to my front.
Her head falls against my chest when she laughs, the sound matching the music, like a perfect fucking melody. Letting my hands slide down I grab her sides, causing her to bend forward and release a loud giggle. Finally breaking free from my teasing touches, she grabs the bottom of her dress and begins spinning in circles. Shayla’s hair is blowing in the wind and the tiniest peek of her thin, tan legs play peek-a-boo with my desperate, hungry eyes. I watch her eyes fall on me over her exposed shoulder. Those fucking hypnotic green eyes lock on my blue ones.
Everything happening in front of me plays in slow motion and it’s like the part in every movie, where the man realizes that the stars are aligning, the time is perfect, and this is where he takes his girl and rides off into the sunset. I thought that shit was corny as hell, so jokes on me while I sit in this moment with Shayla, clinging to it desperately, loving every second.
I crook my finger at her, she has me in a perpetual haze that I want to wrap myself in. She shakes her head, with a hint of humor. Placing my open palm over my stomach I laugh, my abs tightening under my touch. This little minx, she wants to play dirty.
Game on.
When she turns to twirl again, I make my move, snatching her up in a swift motion. Lifting her off the ground and cradling her in my arms, I take off toward the water. Her laugh is unfiltered—unrestrained. My ears desperate for more.
“Trey!” Shayla shouts as I move her to wrap her legs around my waist. Her dress rides up and wraps around her curvy hips.
“You asked for it, you tease.” I make note that the ring is still in the pocket of my swim trunks, reminding me to be careful. Running full speed into the water, we hit the fresh, salty liquid and it splashes up onto our faces, our laughing doubling.
