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I make small talk with Pat, which turns out to be pretty easy because Callie, Jordan, and I came up with a bunch of topics that we knew he would talk about—baseball, his friends, and the big one—himself.
We drive along the outskirts of town, getting nearer to my family’s property.
“You’re heading onto the Steel property,” Pat says.
“Am I? Just driving, you know.”
“Damn Steels.”
I hide my surprise at his comment. “You’ve got something against the Steels?”
“They own this goddamned town. They think they’re all that, you know?”
I’ve heard the rumors, but the Steels have always been nice to my family. We own property adjacent to theirs.
“They’ve got money for sure,” I say.
“They’ve got more than money.”
I’m not sure what he’s talking about, and I don’t rightfully care. I have one objective tonight—to get him to confess to spiking that punch—and then Callie and I can collect the Steels’ reward.
Finally, he finishes his Coke. By the time we drive back to the parking lot Callie and I decided on, the Benadryl will begin to kick in. I need to work quickly.
I roll into the parking lot and snag a space. I grab my phone. Callie’s number is already queued up, so I can tap a single button without Pat knowing.
In the back of the van, a mattress waits for us. Time to go to work.
“You want to get in the back?” I ask.
“Hell, yeah!” In mere seconds, Pat has leaped over the cooler and is on the mattress, waiting.
So that was easy. I place the call and then join Pat on the mattress, where I set my phone on top of the cooler. Pat is so involved in trying to get laid that he doesn’t notice. Everything’s going as planned. Now if I can get through the next fifteen to twenty minutes without vomiting…
“Not too many cars here tonight,” I say.
“Just as well.” Pat turns to me, meets my gaze. “No one to bother us.”
I smile. A big one, despite wanting to gag. This is the biggest acting challenge of my life. “I know. I’ve been looking forward to this.” I rake my gaze over Pat. “God, you look hot.”
“Not as hot as you, baby.”
“Tell me something,” I say.
“What?”
Big smile again, and I raise my eyebrows, lick my bottom lip. “I’m dying to find out what was in that hairy buffalo homecoming night. I’ve never had such an amazing high.”
He shrugs. “Probably just some Everclear.”
Sorry, Lamone. You’re going to have to do better.
This time I bite my lower lip and then curve both lips into a sly smile. “No, it was more than that. I’ve drunk my share of Everclear.”
He narrows his eyes. “God, you’re fucking hot.”
“So are you.” I giggle—the kind of cheerleader giggle that I know will turn him on. I try not to hate myself for it.
Then I move toward him, brush my lips over his.
