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One of four kids, he said, loads of fun. Well-to-do parents with loads of money and an easy demeanour. It was easy to see why he was so confident.
“I was the cool one.” He grinned. “Bit of a joker.”
I could believe that.
He finished up his stories and looked between us both, waiting for one of us to pick up the baton and share our own tales. When Carl looked away I figured it was my turn.
“Mum took me away when she could,” I said. “Those crappy little budget caravan breaks in the school holidays, where the food is nothing but value burgers and the pool is a higher percentage of child piss than it is water. It was on the edge of Bognor Regis, a total shithole. Loved it, all the same.”
I couldn’t imagine either of those two knowing what I meant, but Carl surprised me.
“I went once, same park. Only holiday I ever had, just for a couple of days. Best time of my childhood.”
“Only holiday?” I asked.
He nodded. “They didn’t really have the budget to take us kids away, not from the hostel.”
“The hostel?” The question was out of my mouth before I thought, and Rick put his hand on mine, squeezed.
“Ice cream,” he said. “I think it’s time for ice cream on the beach.”
I could take a hint. “Sure,” I said. “Sounds a great idea.”
We walked slowly, and I threaded my fingers with Rick’s as he threaded his with Carl’s, and it felt nice here, absorbed by the crowd of other unusual parties, colourful people in colourful clothes, gay and straight and everything in between.
“You mentioned your mother,” Carl said. “What about your father?”
“I don’t have a dad,” I replied in a beat. “My dad is nothing but a blank space on my birth certificate.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” I said. “I’m not.”
He looked at me over Rick’s shoulder, and his eyes were so green in the sunlight. “I don’t have a dad, either,” he said. “Not one that matters. People should learnto keep it in their fucking pants if they’re not man enough to step up to the plate.”
We agreed on something, that was for sure.
“And now I feel like the odd one out,” Rick laughed.
“You are the odd one out,” Carl smirked. “Always.”
“Whatever.” Rick grinned, wrapped his arms around our waists and pulled us in tight, so tight that the scent of Carl knocked into me when he did, and he was dark and deep and smelled like leather on skin. “I’m the gluethat holds this shit together.”
“Not tonight,” Carl said, and his tone dried my throat once again. “Tonight it will be Katie holding us together.” He smiled and it kicked up my heartrate. “Quite literally.”
Literally. I pictured the lube on the dressing table, the rope-like veins in Carl’s huge meaty dick, and wondered if I’d actually be able to take just him, never mind both of them. Oh fucking fuck.
Carl ordered his ice cream first. “Strawberry and chocolate,” he said. “Always a winning combination.” He took his cone and I could have combusted when he licked it, his eyes fierce on mine.
He was challenging me, challenging me to break and run. But no. No fucking chance.
I leaned into the counter and tried to look cool. “Double scoop strawberry,” I said. “Got to love a double serving.” I took a lick. “Yummy.” I winked at Carl and he actually smiled.
“Clever,” Rick said, “then I guess I’ll have the banana split, with chocolate sauce… and plenty of nuts,” he added.
Carl laughed, slapped him on the back, and his grin when he looked at me was a grin I’d never seen before. I’d held up to the pressure, I could see it in Carl’s eyes. Just a flash of admiration, or acceptance. I don’t really know what it was, but it thrilled me.
Sun and cocktails and ice cream and a quick change of clothes, and we were out again, grooving to the beat at Club Wave, a dance bar on the beach, with loud tunes and disco lights, and dry ice and drag queens. I was covered in black sequins, a backless dress thatbarely covered my ass and sparkled under the lights, twirling in heels with a pink glitter nail polish on my toes. And there was Rick, in a tight white tee, his hipster jeans showing off the v of his hips as he danced at my side with glow-bands around his wrists. Rick had moves. He pumped the air and he twirled, whooping as the bass picked up. Rick was hot, and alive, and free.
