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"See you at the ninth," he says as I take a seat. I wave.
When we're far enough away, Ashton starts laughing hysterically as I hide my face in my hands. "You just waved goodbye. You didn't say a single word to him the entire time. You just waved."
"I may never tell you anything again," I sulk. "I can't believe you said that."
"It was funny." She's still laughing when we get to our first set of golfers. I can't fake being upset. I mean, it was funny. And I was pathetic.
I waved at him.
By the time we get to the ninth hole shack, my shirt is pasted to me and loose strands of hair are stuck to my cheeks. It is so disgustingly hot out, I think my knees are even sweating.
"I'm going to have Stefan make us frozen drinks," Ashton tells me when she shuts off the cart.
"I'll be drying boob sweat in the bathroom."
She laughs as she walks away.
I don't see Grant or Rhett when I enter the shack. Good, because I need a few minutes to cool off and fix my hair. It's completely out of control from the humidity and Ashton's maniacal driving. She has two speeds--dead-stop and foot pressed all the way to the metal. I may need the chiropractor at the rec center before the end of the summer.
I'm balancing with a foot on the toilet and the other on the bathroom counter with my shirt pulled up to allow the cool air direct access to my cleavage when the door pushes open.
"This feels incredible," I tell Ashton. But when I turn my head, it isn't Ashton standing there, it's Grant.
He looks at me in fascination, like he never thought to stand on the toilet with his shirt pulled up to cool himself off. "Uh ..."
My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
"Sorry." Grant turns to leave.
He's about to walk through the door when my mouth decides to say the most asinine thing ever. "I'm sober."
He stops. Before he faces me again, I quickly pull my shirt down to cover myself. When he turns to look at me, his mouth is quirked like he can't quite believe I said that. Neither can I.
"And you're also standing on a toilet, in the shack bathroom."
"Yeah, right," I say, stepping down. "I was just saying ... that ... I'm sober ... in case you wanted to know."
He chuckles. Then takes a step toward me. I hold my breath, hoping. "I am going to kiss you, Lana. But not here."
"Good. I think." I bite my lip to keep another bout of unfiltered honesty from escaping.
Grant laughs again, forever amused by my absurdity.
"I have mango and pineapple or strawberry and kiwi," Ashton announces in the distance, her voice growing louder. "I told him to keep them virgin in case Grant ... oh, hi Grant."
I close my eyes and swallow.
"I'm not a virgin," he tells her, teasing.
"Good to know," she says with a cock of an eyebrow. "Are you, Lana?"
"What? Omigod stop!"
Grant and Ashton burst out laughing. I am the funniest person on the planet today, apparently.
"I'll take the mango." Grant passes it to me after taking it from Ashton, since he's blocking the doorway.
"Ashton, would you mind helping Stefan at the bar for the rest of the afternoon?" he asks her without taking his eyes off me.
