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“Demon!” I banged on the door again. His voice was inaudible, but I caught something that sounded like he was calling me a name reserved for the town bicycle. I definitely didn’t get around town just because I had a healthy appetite for safe sex. I could still count the number of partners I’d had on one hand.
“Oh, I know you didn’t just say that!” I slapped my hand on the door, letting the sting travel up my arm in a sharp tingle, and felt the port-a-john move as if it wasn’t completely stable on its foundation. The urge to feel the pain in my hand again intensified like a drug, and I was hooked on the feeling with the next slap on the door. Adrenaline rushed through me at the prospect of getting even with Damien Hart.
“Woman, quit it!” he yelled from inside, but it wasn’t good enough so I hit it again.
&n
bsp; “Kristen, stop it!” Taylor was back with her hulk of a man who stood there watching, waiting. Hunter would intervene only if he had to, but I didn’t think he realized how twisted my mind was spinning.
Behind me they held a conference discussing me and Demon. “She won’t knock it over.” Hunter stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking smug and certain. I felt dared, like double dog dare to make this happen when the gauntlet was thrown down.
“Oh no, Hunter… now she’s gonna…”
I took to putting my whole weight into it, letting the box rock back and forth before anyone could stop me pushing it over. Everyone leapt back and the stall lay on its side, no longer moving. Even Demon was silent. A deathly quiet filled the yard, making the port-a-john look like a grotesque above-ground coffin. I had to look down at my own arms, flexing the muscles, because I hadn’t expected to actually do it.
“Fuck me, she did it.” Hunter clapped his hands in appraisal and the door swung up and over, forcing us to jump back when it slammed against the side of the box.
Time seemed to slow down between the time I pushed the unit over and the door flinging open. Heartbeats thudded in my chest and I had that oh shit moment, realizing I might have taken things a teeny bit too far with my Hulk-raging temper. My friends looked at the scene in shock. If we were in a movie the mist would have rolled in, with music matching the mood. I expected Evan to roll up in his police cruiser, jumping out with yellow caution crime scene tape because there was no doubt in my mind that Demon was going to kill me. As it was, Demon poked his head out, blue gunk stuck to his clothes and skin. Bleach would never scrub the image from my mind, nor did I want it to as a nervous giggle choked back in my throat.
“Didn’t know we were holding Blue Man Group auditions today,” Hunter said coughing back a laugh before walking back to the house cool as a cucumber. It wasn’t all that long ago Hunter had fallen into a hole of ghost poop renovating a bathroom, and I guess now they were even? Me, however, I was definitely on my own.
Damien shrugged and lifted himself up further. That should have been my cue to start running for the car. Unfortunately my legs had been rooted to the spot in half surprise and half fear.
He looked me over and tiny shivers left me quaking in my shoes. A growl from deep in the center of his chest emanated for my ears only. “You better run, brat.” Demon climbed out of the john looking a bit blue around his gills.
“Oh crap.” Taylor’s voice slowed down the momentum I needed to get out of there. How did two syllables sound like two minutes?
“Damien, that blue stuff stinks.” He climbed out fully, looping his leg over the side for balance, and I was treated to a vision in peacock blue. Giggles made my nose wrinkle. I couldn’t help but start laughing hysterically, doubling over. It was done, I was officially, certifiably crazy. I couldn’t stop, not even when he was standing in front of me dripping blue dots onto the grass at my feet, because I was afraid if I moved I might actually pee myself. My knees weakened, sending me to the ground holding my stomach. My mind circled back to crazy hypotheses. If we mixed fluids, potentially blue might become green and the image made me laugh even harder unable to speak.
“You’re such a bitch sometimes.” He didn’t offer me a hand up and I wasn’t sure I would have taken it anyway, considering. I rolled to my side and stood up after a good minute wiping tears from my face. Everyone else had left us to stand safely on the porch, out of harm’s way, watching the exchange between us.
Snorting, I barely got out, “You feeling blue, Demon?”
“Dying to say that weren’t you?” he grumbled and I nodded. “I told you to run.” It hit me suddenly that he was going to exact retribution. Who wouldn’t after being pushed over in a shit-shack? Even a clean one, a shit-shack was still shit-shack. I badly wanted to make another joke. I was unprepared for the reaction, followed by him yelling and giving chase. I didn’t have much of a head start to work with, running across the yard, but I knew I had nowhere to go. My screaming filled the yard, and I dodged big blue as our friends cheered from the porch. Assholes.
“I’m sick of this shit,” he yelled.
Darting behind a tree, I giggle-snorted, out of breath. “You look like it.” I tried faking him out, but the game was up when he tackled me to the ground. I was no match for a guy who started every season of football my dad coached his team. Having known better was part of my problem. Never underestimate one’s opposition. We rolled for several spins before he pinned my body underneath him. A hand cradled my head from hitting the ground, blue fingers tangled in my hair. I could only imagine what my hairstylist currently standing on the porch would say once she saw my red ombre had become a mixture of blue and violet. Demon took the upper hand and rubbed himself over me suggestively, pressing my body into the still-dewy wet grass soaking my back, and I couldn’t push him off.
“Are you done?” I asked.
He was on top of me, a position not completely unfamiliar to us, but awkward with our present audience. “Are you?” he asked back, eyes bright under his sky-blue skin.
I wanted to pull him close and let our physical needs take over. I was horny, and adult enough to admit I wanted him—even if it was only one more time—because the chemistry was too good to turn down. We challenged each other mercilessly; it was in our DNA.
He rubbed his cheek along my face, spreading the gunk. “Please tell me I tipped it over before you peed in it,” I asked him.
“I pinched the tip and zipped up the second you slapped the door, Pebbles.” He whispered softly against my ear, leaning into me. Thank God for that. As gross as this was, at least it was a fresh port-a-john and not a used one.
We were both covered in blue crap when he finally, relented helping me up. I stared at his hand before taking it. He squeezed my palm, spreading the blue between us, staining me, claiming me. We were already a mess—what was a little more?
A shout drew our attention back to the house and our audience. “Okay, well when you two are done recruiting for Vegas, I’ll be on the roof working.” Hunter kissed Taylor and walked off with the lunch we brought, nonplussed about what had just happened.
“Vegas…” We both spoke and looked at each other and the idea bloomed. Hunter and Taylor didn’t know what we were about to hatch between the two of us, and we shared a secret smile before he spoke again.
“We should probably hose down now.”
I agreed, following him. “Yeah, probably.” I trailed Demon to the back of the house, where the hose was located, and waited for him to exact further retaliation. Instead he motioned me closer and held up the spray before shooting me with it.
