“Okay, good thinking.” I choose a couple more shells and we both press them into the sand.
“There.”
We stand up and dust our hands off, admiring our work.
“For an architect, you certainly make crappy sandcastles,” she teases.
I cup my hands full of water, preparing to strike, and Fran retreats a few steps back.
“You wouldn’t d—” she starts to say, but then stops herself, already aware of the consequences.
“Ah, don’t say it, Fran. It won’t end well for you.” I grin, taunting her with the water as it seeps through my fingers.
She surrenders, holding her palms up and out in defeat. “All right, all right. Let’s go find the lovebirds. Knowing Peyton, I have a feeling they’re held up in a cave somewhere.” She laughs, and the sound carries in the air.
As we look for Peyton and Caleb further down the beach, we end up getting roped into a group volleyball game. We play for a while before we go in search of them again. I’ll admit I didn’t mind watching Fran jump up and down, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one.
“Wait, is that them?” I squint, trying to make out the couple I see a ways down the beach standing in front of the café. We start walking in that direction and I find myself wanting to reach for Fran’s hand but I hold back. She was just talking about losing the love of her life and I highly doubt she has any interest in me or my hand.
We meet up with Peyton and Caleb, and from the obvious swell of Peyton’s lips, he’s definitely been keeping her busy. I eye him suspiciously until I hear a grumble coming from Fran’s stomach. “Hungry there, little spark?” I grin and bump Fran’s shoulder playfully.
“Little spark? What’s that about?” Caleb asks, “Are you going to let us in on your private joke?”
“Nope,” I shoot back, and throw a wink in Fran’s direction.
Peyton leans over, whispering something in Fran’s ear and they both giggle, which leaves me wishing I knew what the hell they were saying.
We enter the café, a rustic interior that’s lined with wood tables, leather booths, and black and white framed photographs of the shore. I request a table outside overlooking the ocean and the hostess leads us to a terrace that’s lined with various exotic flowers in yellows, oranges, and golds. The tables are driftwood, bleached by the sun, each with a single yellow rose in the center.
I pull out Fran’s chair and she sits down, peering over her shoulder at me. “Such a gentleman,” she says, an edge of sarcasm to her sweetness.
Caleb directs his attention to Fran, raising both his brows. “Ha! Ask him how much of a gentleman he was with Hayley Williamson in eleventh grade.”
Peyton leans forward in her chair, her brown eyes aglow with curiosity. “That sounds interesting, do tell.”
I kick Caleb under the table and he groans, reaching under to rub his now throbbing knee.
Fran rests her chin in her palm as she waits for an explanation I’m not sure I want to give. “Well, we’re waiting. You’re not getting off that easy.”
“Oh trust me, he got off,” Caleb says laughing, and I’m two for two when I nail him in the shin. He scowls but doesn’t let my wrath deter him, continuing with the conversation. “The ladies are waiting.”
“How about you tell us, and then each one of us will also tell something about ourselves, to ease your pain,” Fran says, a mischievous smile floating across her lips.
I fold my arms across my chest, contemplating her proposition and interested in what story she might have to tell. “Okay, deal,” I concede, trying to figure out how to word what I’m about to say. “So…in a nutshell, Hayley’s mom caught her giving me head in their garage…in the front seat of her mom’s Mercedes…just as she was about to….” I hesitate and look to Caleb who isn’t any help at all. “Uh…swallow. Needless to say, her mom’s front seat needed a thorough cleaning.”
“Oh my God,” Peyton and Fran say at the same time, and their laughter ensues and it doesn’t stop. My ears heat and a streak of red slashes across my face.
I eye Caleb with a vengeful grin, anxious for him to take his turn so I can laugh my ass off, although he’s got a ton of stories and a lot more variety than I do.
“Caleb, you’re up dude,” I say, in hopes that he can take the focus off of me.
“Hmph,” he mutters, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There are so many good ones. It’s really hard to choose.” He glances over at Peyton and then back to me. “Okay, I’ve got one. This was when I was in high school. So my parents had gone away for the night and I invited my girlfriend Valerie over. My bed was way too small and she suggested my parents’ king-sized bed, which I thought was a bit weird, but decided to go with it. Anyway, she left me for a minute and came back with some whipped cream, and…some other stuff. We were getting busy with the whipped cream when my dad ran up the stairs because he’d forgotten something, and caught us stark naked with, uh, certain parts of Valerie covered in whipped cream.”
I shake my head and chuckle as I recall that night. Caleb called to tell me his dad went through the roof, not because he found them naked, simply because they was on his bed.
“Whipped cream, huh?” Peyton asks with an arch of her brow. “I didn’t know you were into that.” She moves closer to him, whispering something in his ear and once again, I feel like I’m in the dark.
“All right, break it up you two. Fran, it’s your turn,” I tell her, excited to hear what she has to offer up.
“Wait,” Fran says loudly, “does it have to be dirty? Or can it be anything?”
Caleb pipes back instantly, just as the waitress returns with our drinks. “It can be whatever you want, but we prefer it be dirty. Right, Matt?”
The waitress eyes us curiously and I bite back a grin, keeping my fingers crossed it’s something dirty so I can get a visual.
“Okay.” Fran takes a deep breath and rubs her hands down the front of her skirt and I take that to mean it’s going to be a good one. “So when I was in high school, I was dating this guy Eddy and we had sex in the haunted house at the Halloween carnival.”
That’s it? I had my hopes up for something with a bit more gusto. But I suppose it’s adventurous and fun and that does seem to fit Fran to a tee.
She looks to me and then over at Caleb and Peyton. “That’s it? No reaction. Nothing.”
Caleb gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to pat her hand. “To be honest, Fran, it’s not all that exciting.” He turns to Peyton. “Okay, babe, your turn.”
I move closer to Fran and talk quietly so only she can hear. “That’s okay. I liked it.”
“Figures,” she teases back, and there’s that sassy mouth again. My eyes are immediately drawn to her lips and I take a sip of water to cool down, distracting myself from the divine temptation sitting beside me.
Peyton’s entire face beams when it’s her turn, obviously taking a liking to this game. “Well, I’ve got a one-up on your garage story. My boyfriend Rob and I were messing around at my house and he asked if he could tie me up, to which I responded, ‘of course.’” Caleb’s head does a 360 and he coughs, nearly choking on his drink. Peyton pats him on the back a couple of times before she continues. “So, let’s just say I was tied to my headboard in quite the awkward position when my sister walked in, followed by my mom. The sheer terror on my mom’s face let me know I probably would never be allowed in the house alone again. So needless to say that was the end of my escapades with Rob.”
Caleb’s phone rings, interrupting our hysterics, and he puts his finger up in the air, motioning for us to hold on. “Hi, Mom,” he says, but the smile on his face disappears almost instantly, leaving me concerned.