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“I’m with you. Somehow, the guys have managed to keep the girls occupied. I haven’t heard ‘mom’ or ‘help’ in hours. I think it’s a new record.”
“I don’t know how you moms do it. I’d miss my autonomy.”
“Easy for you to say. Once you have a kid, the world spins on a new axis.”
That must be true or else people would cease procreating, and the human race would become extinct.
“Are you almost out? I think I need a refill.” I drag myself into an upright position. Whoa. I haven’t been vertical in a while, and the whole world tips like a spinny top.
“Sprite this time please! Thank you!” As I pass by, she open-palms me right on the ass with a resounding smack and falls into a fit of giggles.
“Shh,” I scold. “People are looking at you.”
She drops her face down into her towel to muffle the sound, but instead of hiding her drunkenness, she just looks like a corpse.
My smile turns inward as I hop into the pool for my hourly dip. The sun glitters like diamonds across the clear water. The smell of chlorine invades my nose. Water cools my sun reddened skin, pulling a contented sigh from my lips and rinsing away the salty dew of sweat. Without drying off, I tug my sarong back on to cover my bikini bottoms. The line at the concession appears to have grown with the afternoon heat, but I trudge that way in search of more to drink.
An afternoon of slugging back beverages by the pool has my bladder about to burst. With no other choice, I ditch the drinks and take a detour to the restroom fifty yards farther. The bathroom gods have looked down on me today because there isn’t a wait. The scent of mildew and stale paper towels overpowers the damp concrete room. I make quick work of taking care of business and wash my hands, using one extra second to flip my straps over to admire my new tan lines in the grimy mirror.
The buzz hums just beneath my skin. We might have to call it quits soon if we want to make the drive home without getting sick all over Law’s truck. He’s an awesome guy, but I’m guessing he wouldn’t take too kindly to me ralphing all over his back seat and his stepdaughter.
I trek back to the concessions on legs reminiscent of a newborn fawn, not paying attention to where I’m going, and slam into another person. My fingers instinctively clench the first thing they touch, which happens to be their shirt.
In the laws of gravity and alcohol, alcohol will always win.
Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Gravity wins over alcohol. Oh, whatever. An overwhelming urge to scream the word, “Timber!” grips me.
My eyes squeeze tightly, and I clench my jaw as if either of these things will brace my skull for impact. Strong arms wrap around me protectively at the last second, and the two of us crash to the asphalt. With my strong buzz, I can’t tell which way is up and feel myself flip
ping around until I land on top of someone, suffering a minor scrape to my knee that I barely feel.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” I push frantically to climb off them. The sunglasses fly from my face in my intoxicated scurrying and plummet right on the eye of the person below me.
“Shit, that hurt.”
“Nathan?” I peer closer, convinced my alcohol-sloshed brain deceives me.
“I don’t mind you topping me, but do you mind not blinding me while you do it?”
“Perv.” Pushing off his chest with both hands, I come to a standing position and end up straddling over his torso in my bikini. His gaze flicks to the scrap of leopard cloth covering the apex of my thighs.
“Even better.” He plucks my shades from the asphalt and drags himself into a sitting position that puts him inappropriately at eye level with my crotch.
“There are children here,” I hiss and retreat a step.
He grins a salacious tilt of the lips, the dimples denting his cheeks alluringly, and springs from the ground.
“Hey, are you two okay? That looked like a pretty bad spill,” a passerby, who saw the entire thing and more than likely recorded it for social media, checks on us.
I fight a sneer while Nathan waves back good-naturedly. “All good here.”
“Okay, she’s bleeding, man. Might want to get that taken care of.” The guy points at my legs and walks off with a wave.
Nathan halts his inspection of my face when he catches my expression. “Wipe that look off your face. He was just being helpful.”
I school my features and display my leg for him. “What can I say, alcohol turns me into a scrapper.” I steady myself on his shoulders as he scrutinizes my wound with the intensity of a trained medical professional.
“I know. You can be a hellcat when riled.” A shadow crosses his face as he grins up at me. “We should clean this up. Are you okay to walk?”
