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Donovan
Kenzi and I can’t stop laughing as we make our escape.
“You’re the worst,” I tell her as I drive the golf cart back.
“Aw.” Kenzi rakes her fingers through my hair. “You’re the worst, too.”
Jason’s trunks flap in the wind, hanging off the golf cart antenna as we drive back to the marina.
It’s going to be a long, naked walk back home for Jason King.
8
Donovan
Jason—the considerate guy—has a six-pack in the back of his golf cart.
We celebrate our win by splitting a beer between us. We sneak into the TV room, which is…exactly as a it sounds. A room with a TV and a couch. It’s attached to the dock master’s office, and it comes in handy for the boat owners who don’t have cable.
I give Kenzi the remote, and she settles on VH1. The music videos provide good background noise as I make her unfold her prank in full detail.
“I’ve got to hand it to you,” I tell her, “you’ve got a devious streak.”
She cackles and takes a swig from the bottle. “That’s me. Miss Horrible.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe he bought it.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s accustomed to women throwing themselves at his feet.”
I screw the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got that right. He thinks he’s going to have sex with you.”
She blinks at me. “What?”
“He said…” And I clear my throat now for a dramatic retelling, and point ahead, my voice a growl. “That girl there. I’m going to fuck her this summer.”
Kenzi screws up her nose. “Gross. Like he’s going to throw me over his shoulder, caveman-style, and take me to his cave?”
“He probably has a shag-cave. Where susceptible women get the all-encompassing honor to getting screwed by Jason King.”
Kenzi chuckles and puts her bottle to her lips, but her eyes stare into the far-off.
I call her out. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“I’m…not!” she huffs, but she pulls a bit of hair behind her ear when she says it. She does add, “I guess there are worse ways to lose my virginity.”
“No. There aren’t. That’s the absolute worst way. You don’t want to be a notch on someone’s flip-flops.”
She shrugs. “Honestly, I’d rather be a notch. I can’t think of anything worse than a rose-petal bed.”
“Chilled champagne.”
“Chocolate-covered strawberries on the pillow.”
“Your lover playing an acoustic guitar softly from the bathtub.”
We both look at each other and cackle.
“You’re right. That does sound terrible.”
