Thankfully, Oak manages to keep that hand above the water.
“Could use a little help here,” he grumps. Turns out, that requires helping myself to large handfuls of his ass, then dragging him around to the cousins to deliver their joints.
He lights one and hands it off to Maverick to share with Maya, then gives another to Rami, and the last one to Honoré, who takes a hit and hands it off to Holmes.
Oak holds up the final joint as I pull myself onto the brontosaurus. “Since you’re a virgin, want me to shotgun you?” he asks, grinning.
“I don’t know what that means.”
The others chuckle, but they’re not being unkind. Before I can ask, Oakley takes a long drag, then floats up next to me. He takes my mouth in a kiss and slowly leaks the smoke into my mouth. I inhale, and it’s warm and humid.Nice.
“Hold it in your lungs for a few seconds,” he says, the command gentle but…distinctly there.
I do as he says and count to ten, then exhale. Hm. Not bad.
“Again.”
He grins and repeats the process.
I could get used to this.
Truett and Boone join us with trays of munchies.
Detective Boone is wearing shorts with five-inch inseams and nothing else, and he raises his brow at the joints being passed around. Maverick, meanwhile, is enjoying his man’s shorts. The good detective wades in and plucks the joint from Mav’s hand, taking a deep hit with a smile.
Truett, who is almost as tattooed as I am, is wearing loose trunks and a rash guard that highlights his ripped torso. He slips onto Rami’s float and lets Rami shotgun him. Or make out with him. I can’t quite tell the difference.
“So,” Maya says, floating up to us. “You two finally figured it out.”
Aside from her work in Wimberley, she’s been neck-deep in her surgical residency. This is as relaxed as I’ve ever seen her.
I touch my fingers to my chest but somehow miss and hit my chin. “I didn’t have to figure out anything.”
I’m not sure why this makes her laugh. I’ve wanted Oakley from the beginning.
I turn to Oakley. “You know how I always wanna murder at least a little bit, like always?”
He nods wisely.
“Shotgunning weed takes the edge off. Who knew?”
Holmes raises his hand. “I knew.”
“What’s your test score?”
Rami and Maverick exchange a confused look.
Silly.
“I’m at the threshold,” he says, sounding a little disappointed.
“Really?” I let my hands splash the water. “Do you know I’m not even close?”
Holmes lets his mouth drop open. “Really?”
He looks to Oakley, who throws out his hands in a too-broad gesture. “It’s true.”
“I am on the spectrum though,” I say, then blow raspberries at him.
