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“I have to agree,” I said, gazing around and admiring it. “I’m really impressed. I didn’t figure you for the manual labor type.”
“He wanted to learn, so I taught him,” Asher said.
I looked at Asher. “You taught him?”
He shrugged. “Before my dad turned into an entitled piece of shit, he was a farmer and pretty handy. He taught me how to fix stuff and work on cars. When we first moved out here, we bought a foreclosure, and we fixed it up together. I wasn’t very old, but I learned a lot. It took him a few years to fully ingrain himself in the culture and develop a shitty attitude, but—”
“In other words, my father got to his, and now they’re both dicks, and we’re here on a beautiful day with a beautiful girl who wants to give us alcohol poisoning, so let’s get to it,” Damian interrupted.
Despite knowing better, I found myself smiling at Damian’s comment. I stepped around him and went behind the bar. There were several mini fridges under the wall of alcohol, and inside, I found all the juices I’d need. Fruit juice, grapefruit juice, orange juice, pineapple juice, and strawberry sauce. To be honest, we always used some red or pink Hawaiian Punch instead of fruit juice, but this would work given they had probably never even seen a bottle of Hawaiian Punch in their miserable rich-kid existence.
That shit was amazing. I pitied anyone who didn’t grow up chugging that until they puked.
I set all of those on the bar behind me before grabbing all the alcohol I’d need. Everclear, strawberry vodka, watermelon Schnapps, Malibu rum, and Triple Sec.
“Jesus fuck,” Asher said. “Damian wasn’t kidding. You’re trying to kill us.”
I laughed. “Yep. If you look online, most recipes call for half of this. But I’m eighteen. Obviously, I’m going to go big with shit I’m not supposed to be doing. It looks dangerous, but it tastes amazing.”
I looked in the cabinets under the bar and found a one-gallon pitcher and began mixing the alcohol first at the bottom. I didn’t bother measuring. I was like an expert baker with a cookie recipe I’d made a thousand times. I may not have made this a bunch, but I’d made it enough to know general measurements.
“To maketrueJungle Juice, you’re supposed to make it in a huge cooler and cut up a shit ton of fruit in it and leave it for a couple of days. My mom made it in a big clear tote once. The fruit soaks up some of the alcohol and makes it even better. However, I’m impatient, and I’ve never had the opportunity to prep it before, so you get what you get.”
“In acooler or a tote?” Damian asked. “How have you not died of dysentery?”
I laughed. “I’m essentially making drinkable disinfectant. Besides, I’m sure you rich boys throw a hell of a party, but you should come to Indiana and party with me sometime. It’s a whole different world. It’ssomuch more fun.”
“I’ll have to take you up on that sometime,” Asher said.
I looked up from mixing in the juice and smiled again. “I’d like that. You definitely should. Might not be what you’re used to, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. Look at me. I’m having a blast right now, and we all know I’mwayout of my element.”
I finished mixing the gallon of Jungle Juice and tasted it. It was perfect. I grabbed a few glasses, filled them halfway with ice from the icemaker chest under the bar, and filled them up with the deadly concoction.
After handing one to each of them, I took a drink and moaned. “Yum.Damn.This shit is even better with expensive ass liquor and organic juice.”
“Holy shit,” Asher said. “If I hadn’t sat here and watched you put all that alcohol in here, I wouldn’t even know it had more than a single shot.”
I snorted. “Oh, yeah. There’s way more per glass than that, so like I said. Drink slow. It creeps up a lot quicker than you think.”
“Hmm,” Damian mused, taking another drink. “Maybe I’ll have to make the trip to Indiana and try the dirty redneck tote liquor, too. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”
My smile grew. After expelling all my emotions out on the beach, I felt almost hyper. I was excited to be here with them and felt different. There was no anxiety in sight. Just me, a couple ofsuperfucking hot guys, and some really good drinks.
“Wanna go back out on the beach?” Damian asked, and I nodded.
“Yes, please!”
“I’ll grab a bucket of ice,” Asher said, sliding the pitcher toward Damian.
We made our way back down to the beach, and I instantly felt the pull of the water again. It was almost six in the evening, and the sun was lower. It would set in a couple hours, and I couldn’t wait. I was excited to watch the sun set over the ocean, and it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t both excited and curious to see what happened.
I couldn’t deny there was a dark part of me that came closer to the surface every time I had some kind of altercation with Damian. With Asher, too, but less so. My attraction to Justin felt so much more natural. It wasn’t that I waslessattracted to Asher or Justin. It was that it was a different kind of attraction altogether. Each of them touched a different part of my sexuality, and I loved it.
Asher was gorgeous. Sex in human form. His body was incredible, and his lips inviting.
Justin was sweet, sincere, but italmostfelt like he was hiding something dark and delicious under the surface. His idea for the fun on the hood of his car certainly backed that up.
But Damian…
