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But now I have a serious problem.
“When did you get your nipples pierced?” I ask, stealing another glance at the outlines of barbells through her bikini top.
The diamond stud in her nose ring sparkles against the sunlight as she smiles. “The day after I moved in. You mentioned that morning how you’re not a pierced nipple sort of guy, and I thought to myself, you know, I’m a pierced nipple sort of girl. So I went and did it.”
“I realize I’m not allowed to care or be jealous, but is it bad if I admit that I’m annoyed that someone touched your breasts and nipples?” Someone who wasn’t me.
“Actually, I drove up to your friend Lenox’s place and had them done.”
“What?!” I bellow, causing a few people walking by to stare strangely at me. My head fully snaps in her direction, my body wired up until I catch the amusement on her face. “You’re fucking with me?”
She adjusts the brim of her hat, lowering it a bit to cover more of her face. “Of course, I’m fucking with you. He would have told you by now, wouldn’t he have? Did you think he’d do that?”
I hesitate as I return to watching Katy play in the ocean. I mean, on the one hand, I think he would have told me, but on the other, maybe not because he knows I would have been jealous as fuck even if I know he’d never cross that line with her. He mostly inks people, but he does know how to pierce, and I know they do it in his shop.
“He would have done a good job for you, so now I’m not sure what to say.”
She pats my arm in a placating way. “Well, I wouldn’t have done that. Talk about awkwardness. Thewoman,” she emphasizes, still visibly laughing at me, “who did it is very married—to a guy.”
“Do they hurt?”Are they sore? Tender? Sensitive? Tell me all about them or better yet show me.
“Not so much anymore. The first few days they did.”
“You know you’re driving me crazy right now, right?”
She rocks forward onto the balls of her feet, staring straight out at the water. “Yep. But you already know what the sight of you shirtless does to me, so we’re probably about even right now. All look and no touch make Callan and Layla horny-ass bitches. It be what it be, my friend. We are stuck in a sexless paradigm.”
“At least we’re self-aware,” I quip.
“Uncle Cal!” Katy cries out even though she’s practically within grabbing distance in front of me. “Watch me dive.”
She spins and gives me her back as she reaches her hands over her head. Just as a rolling wave comes straight for her, she dives over it into the water. A couple of seconds later, she emerges, flipping her hair back the way Ariel did in the movie, a beaming smile on her face, and my heart clangs in my chest. It breaks me in two that Dec and Willow will never get to see any of this.
“That was amazing!” I exclaim, clapping my hands. “You know, when you get to be a bit older, we can teach you how to snorkel and swim with flippers.”
“I only want to swim with fins,” she informs me, but moves on as she stands and does it all over again with the next wave.
“Is it sexist if I say girls are trouble?”
Layla laughs. “I was, and I find it to be a compliment, so no. Actually, I’m not even sure I was trouble until I was sixteen. Then I was trouble, but good trouble.”
“What does good trouble mean?” I ask, glancing in her direction, down to her tits, and then back out to sea.
I catch her smirking out of the corner of my eye. “I was a straight-A student and never wanted to upset or worry Amelia since she had already been through enough, but I liked coloring outside the lines whenever I could. I still do for that matter.”
“Hence the metal. But no tattoos,” I note.
She shakes her head. “Those are forever, or at least a lot of work to get rid of, and I like my skin as it is.”
“Me too,” springs past my lips without any filter, but before she can comment or tell me to quit it with all the boob staring and open innuendo, a warm, wetsplatsmashes onto my shoulder. “The fuc—”
“Uncle Cal! A seagull pooped on your shoulder.” Katy’s arms wrap around her tummy as she breaks out into a cackle of laughter.
Sure enough, there’s a splatter of white goop on me. “Gross.”
Layla giggles beside me. “It’s good luck.”
I turn to her, incredulous. “Why do people always say that? There is nothing lucky about a bird pooping on my shoulder. Now I have to go all the way in the water.”
