Page 27

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” she repeats back to me, emphasizing each word with a mocking tone. “I called Dad. He told me, and I quote ‘please take his morose ass off my hands the rest of the day and make sure he gets some sun’.” She bobs her head side to side in the water, doing her best impersonation of Dad.

Goddammit. It’s clear that both Dad and Sisi are hell-bent on sticking their noses into my personal life. Then again, I also just got done telling myself that I should be nicer to her and that pitcher of margaritas on the table looks way better than it should, so fuck it. “Fine, I’ll be back in a few.”

I take another long sip of my drink through the twisty straw. According to the two women in the pool, the straw was a condition of me being allowed to have some of their cocktails.

“Why are these so damn good?” I mutter from my patio chair.

Shirtless, getting a little sun, and sipping a spicy margarita—that is admittedly way more enjoyable than I want it to be—is not how I thought the rest of my day would go.

“Don’t ask me, ask your ex-girlfriend,” Sisi says, slurping loudly from her twisty straw while she drifts around the pool on her float. “She’s the one who made this batch.”

Maybe it’s the margaritas, or maybe it’s the unplanned afternoon off by the pool, but I do feel less like a morose ass, as my dad apparently calls me when I’m not around. I’m sure he thinks he’s funny and is getting a kick out of knowing that I’m here right now.

I grunt and turn to Josie, who’s still hanging out in the deep end, and point down at my empty glass. “Josie, why are these so good?”

To my surprise, her mouth lifts into a smile, directed right at me. “Same as the shots the other night—not cheap tequila. Then, I muddled it with some Serrano peppers for an extra kick.”

I let out a low hum and nod. “Well, thanks. Again, they’re good… even if I have to drink them through this stupid straw.”

“Ugh.” My sister groans. “Shut up about the damn straws already. They’re fun and add to the festive vibe. Now, are you going to actually loosen up and get in the pool with us?”

“Yeah, let your hair down and jump in,” Josie chimes in.

“What is this? Gang up on Sly day? No, I’m not getting in. I didn’t bring my trunks.”

“You went all the way home and changed out of your work clothes, knowing you were coming back to the pool, and didn’t think to put on swim attire? Did you get a bulk discount on those gray joggers or something?” Josie asks, arching a brow in challenge.

I set my glass down and top it off from what I know is, at least, their second pitcher. “First off, I literally live a couple of blocks away, and up one flight of stairs. So ‘all the way home’ is two minutes. Second, I like these joggers. And lastly, I think I’m good right where I am.”

Sisi groans again before splashing and paddling her pool float to the edge of the pool closest to me. “If you’re not going to get in, at least be useful and top off my drink.”

She holds her glass out toward me and shakes it, rattling the ice.

“I guess I can do that.” I grab the pitcher and walk over to her, bending down on one knee.

Over the years, after enough physical therapy and trial and error with different prosthetics, I’ve regained nearly all my mobility. Some motions are still awkward, including this one, so I place my other hand on the ground to steady myself. She looks up at me with a mischievous grin. I notice she’s beginning to take on that look that tells me this might be the last drink she has before I cut her off.

“Come on, just get in the pool.” She reaches for me, and I already know she’s going to try to yank me into the pool like she has so many other times. She’s not exactly strong enough to pull me or any of our brothers in, but sometimes we like to let her win. Today is not one of those days, so I brush her hand away, and she pouts.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” As I start to pour her drink, I peek over at Josie to find her still floating around in her inner tube, watching us with mild curiosity. “So, what other trouble are you two planning on getting into today?”

“Giving you a bath,” my sister says.

“What?” I look away from Josie and back at my sister, trying to figure out what the hell she’s talking about. I don’t have to wait for an answer because she grabs a fistful of my pants, just above my prosthetic, and instantly I know what she means.

I set the pitcher down just in time to grab her wrist and stop her from pulling me head over ass into the water.

“No.” The word comes out as a low growl, quiet enough that only she can hear me.

“Lame,” she says, rolling her eyes and letting go of my joggers. I stand, stepping a safe distance away from the pool.

“Alright,” I say, not hiding my exasperated sigh. “I’m going to head out. You two have fun without me.”

“Duh. I think it’d be impossible for us to have less fun with how boring you’re being.”

I give Sisi the middle finger before pulling on my shirt and walking around the pool to leave. As I walk past the deep end, my skin tingles and I get the feeling I’m being watched. When I reach the gate, I look back and catch Josie’s eyes on me.