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10
CARLEIGH
“What?”I ask.
He sits down beside me and drops his already bare feet into the kiddie pool.“Giving out numbers,” he repeats.“To Sawyer!Careful Sawyer, Carleigh’s a high-maintenance date.She’ll make you watch a lot of Bravo.”
I roll my eyes and carefully withdraw my foot from Royce at his direction.One sparkly coat of blue is on, and it looks great already.“Nobody’s making you watchBelow Deck, Bryson.Just admit you secretly love it.”
“Absolutely not.”He leans over until his chin is nearly over my shoulder and peers at Royce.“What’s going on here, spa day?You doing me next?”
Royce looks up and gives him a withering look.“I don’t know where those feet have been.Never.”
“Your loss,” Bryson answers cheerfully, and wiggles his feet in the water.“These feet would be so pretty, all twinkle-toes!”
“Hmm.”I look at Sawyer across the kiddie pool and barely manage to suppress a laugh.
Bryson scoops a little water with his hand and sprays it playfully in my direction.“What’d I tell you about slandering Jersey, Carleigh?”
“I’m not slandering New Jersey!”I protest, raising a hand to protect myself.“I’m slandering your feet!”
“My feet are New Jersey, Carleigh.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, Bryson - eek!”I squeal, as he sprays an even larger bit of water at me.
“Bryson,” Royce cuts in sharply, clutching my foot tighter to immobilize it.“Do not interrupt my work.You can wait ten more minutes to flirt, can’t you?”
I press my lips together, fighting a smile despite the flush that reaches my cheeks.I manage a side glance at Bryson, and am surprised to see he doesn’t look embarrassed at all.
“Yeah, I can wait ten minutes.”Bryson taps the back of my hand with his wet fingers.“Come find me when the spa’s closed, Murphy,” he tells me, then hops to his feet and is gone.
I worry for a moment that Royce or Sawyer is going to press me about the whole lot of nothing that’s going on between me and Bryson, but Royce snaps his fingers and announces, “Alright girl, second coat.”
I intend to look for Bryson after my toes are painted, I really do, but Molly finds me first.She’s holding two plastic cups and is wearing a big grin.“Carleigh!”she says excitedly.“Margarita time!And soon hot dogs!”
“Margarita, huh?”I sniff the drink, then take a small sip.“Oh, Molly, this tastes really good.”
“Jackson mixed it,” Molly says.“He has a crazy alcohol selection.”She sways a little on the spot to the song that’s playing from the Bluetooth speaker that’s set up by the fire pit, then waggles her eyebrows at me.“So, you and ol’ blue eyes, hmmm?”
I scoff and shake my head, but I get where Molly’s coming from.Based on today - and okay, on the past couple of weeks, where it seems like just maybe Bryson didn’t always need to touch me as much as he had - it does seem like things might be shifting-- slightly.But that’s just to the untrained eye - Molly doesn’t know Bryson that well.He’s just an affectionate guy who cares about his friends.Right?
A sudden wave of anxiety-induced nausea overtakes me, and I swallow hard.What a lunatic; of course, it’s all in my head.What am I even doing?
Molly sips her drink and gives an exaggerated shrug.“Oh, Carleigh,” she says.“He’s definitely into you, I promise.”
“Shh,” I hiss.The last thing I need is for any of Bryson’s friends to overhear; how pathetic would that be?
“Fine, I’ll drop it,” Molly acquiesces.“But down the hatch with that drink, girl.Get out of your own head.”
I obediently take another sip.I’m willing to indulge a little more than usual today, but still pacing myself; I don’t think my liver will suddenly understand the concept of living in the moment.
“Good girl,” Molly praises.She tilts my shoulders toward the beer pong table, where I spot Bryson once again providing a faux-sports announcer’s commentary on a game.“I need to use the bathroom.Now go be social!”
I flash a half-hearted warning look at Molly, but hey, Bryson did tell me to come find him.So I approach, my newly-painted feet brushing against the soft grass, and stand a couple of feet away from him near the table.
“Who’s winning?”I ask, more as a means to announce my presence.It’s clear that Quinn is absolutely destroying Bishop.
Bryson turns around.“Carleigh!”he exclaims, clearly a bit intoxicated.He reaches out with one long arm and beckons me to come closer.“Come here, get right on the fifty-yard line,” he instructs, tugging me just in front of him to the middle of the board.He sets a hand on my shoulder.“Quinn is wiping the floor with Bhati.Just a complete annihilation.”
