“What?” I said, distracted from Tyler’s weirdness by my boyfriend’s weirdness. “Did you just tell me to stick your wallet behind my ass?”
“Yes. So no one steals it. My phone, too.”
Suddenly I had Riley’s cell phone crammed behind my butt. Followed by his leather wallet. Yeah, this was comfortable.
But I figured he would know the risks involved with leaving valuables around at the pool more than me, so I tucked my own phone in my bikini top. Not comfortable either. Though the sun was warm and as I lay back I dozed in and out of sleep, the alcohol effect still lingering.
Until ice cold water droplets fell on my bare stomach. I jumped, my eyes flying open. All four Mann boys were standing around me, dripping wet.
“Does anyone notice they’re dripping on me?” I asked.
Apparently the answer was no, and they didn’t care, because no one said anything.
Riley ran his hand through his hair and nudged me with his knee. “Scoot over.”
“Scoot over to where? The ground? This is a chair for one.”
“You can lean against me.”
“Can I at least spring your wallet from my butt then?”
“Yeah, put it under the chair.” Riley put his leg behind me to straddle the chair as I leaned forward. He sat down.
Water dripped down my back. And I swear his junk smacked me in the back of the head. When I leaned back onto his chest, his arms coming around me, cold and wet, I winced as goose bumps rose on my body, but I didn’t really mind. It felt fantastic to be this comfortable with him, to have a place to spend a Sunday.
“Ah, this is a perfect day,” he said, echoing my thoughts, kissing the back of my head. “Now if only a burger would appear in my hand.”
“All we have are chips.” I leaned to the left and snagged a bag. Yanking it open, I held a chip up over my shoulder. Riley pulled it into his mouth hands free, his tongue flicking over my fingers. A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with pool water.
I popped a chip in my own mouth. His hands were resting on my hips. Easton had perched himself on the bottom of the chair and he was inspecting a scab on his knee. Tyler and Jayden were laying on a couple of towels on the ground next to us, Tyler with a shirt over his face.
“So Jessica Sour, huh?” Riley asked, his voice amused by my ear.
Oh, shit. I had actually said that out loud? “What are you talking about?” I went for innocence.
“You don’t remember calling yourself that?”
“Nope.”
“Bullshit.” His arms were locked together under my breasts and he squeezed me. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I believe we have our names for a reason. I mean, think about it . . . Riley Mann. I’ve certainly earned that title.”
I snorted. “And you’re modest about it, too.”
“The truth is the truth,” he teased. “And Jessica Sweet. It’s perfect for you.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.”
“Even though I’m lying to my parents?”
I could feel his shrug. “You have your reasons.”
I snuggled against him. “If you could do anything in the world, say, if you didn’t have to be in construction and could go to college or whatever, what would you do?”
“I have no idea. None whatsoever. How about you? What if you could pick your own major in college, what would it be?”
Glancing back at him, I grinned. “I have no idea either. So it seems pointless to take a stand on it if I don’t have an alternative in mind.” I had thought a lot about it and what interested me and I hadn’t really come to any conclusions. It made me feel lazy and indecisive.
But today I didn’t care about being lazy. Riley seemed to like me exactly the way I was.
“I figured why think about it when it can never happen? Waste of wanting, for me. It is what it is.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Nah, not usually. Everyone has a part to play and this is mine. It’s what you make of it. Sometimes I let my temper get the best of me and I struggle with that, but I can’t complain. Not with your ass rubbing against me right now.”
“Pure poetry,” I told him.
“If you want poetry go read Shakespeare.”
“I’d rather stick my finger down my throat than read Shakespeare. I think we’re good.” I never understood poetry, truthfully. It was like a trick, every word meaning something than what it was originally intended. A mind fuck, that was poetry. Who needs that?
“Hey, if you married me your name would be Jessica Sweet Mann. That’s literally the best name I’ve ever heard.”
Or the worst. OMG. It was awful. Yet the fact that he said the word “married” in a sentence referring to me and him made me breathless. He didn’t mean that, obviously. I mean, ludicrous. But why would his mind even go there? It had to be a point A to point B to point C kind of thing, but if he could even mentally cross that bridge, even to tease me, well, that made me shift even closer to him, a girly glow settling over me.
“That name is balls.”
He laughed. “I think it rocks.”
My phone vibrated against my boob. I pulled it out. Robin had finally answered. Im fine. Hungover.
Did you hook up with Aaron?
No.
Want to meet us at the pool?
No.
K. ttyl
She didn’t answer that.
Looking up, I realized that Easton was throwing Cheetos at a woman’s very large backside.
“Hey, stop wasting those,” Riley told him. “They’re expensive.”
“That’s your teachable moment parenting response?” I asked him, amazed. “Nothing about not throwing snack foods at women’s butts?”
“Yeah. That, too.” Riley shrugged. “I told you I’m not that good at this parenting thing. I keep him alive, don’t I? The finer points sometimes elude me. Besides, I would have done the same damn thing when I was eleven. It’s a pretty substantial ass and she’s wearing hot pink.”
I had no problem picturing him as an eleven year old, with a smart mouth and a lust for freedom. He had probably been trying to sneak off to try to get tattooed. “You do deserve credit for keeping him alive. But maybe you should all try to remember that he isn’t in his twenties.”
“I know that. He’d have a job if he was. And he’d be taller.”
Eye rolling. That’s all that demanded. “Easton, why are you throwing Cheetos at her?” I asked, curious to figure out what was going on in Easton’s head.
But he just shrugged. “Because it’s big and right in front of me. I wanted to see if they’ll bounce.”
That’s what I got for asking. The truth, which wasn’t that pretty. “But if she realizes what you’re doing, you’re going to hurt her feelings. No one likes to be made fun of, and you’re basically making fun of her.”
Easton didn’t answer me. He just threw the Cheetos back in the plastic store bag and went back to the pool, jumping in cannonball style.
“Well, that went well.” I felt bad. “I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business.” Who did I think I was, telling Riley how to handle Easton? Telling Easton how to behave? It wasn’t like I was some model daughter. Clearly. Just ask my parents.
“Don’t sweat it.”
“I don’t want him to hate me.” He was an odd little kid, but I was getting fond of him, and I wanted him to like me.
“He doesn’t hate you. And you’re right, he probably does need better manners, but I’ve been more focused on keeping him. I hate to say it, but it’s better for him since Mom died. Less swearing, less drama, no drugs, no violence. I figure the other stuff will catch up later.”
“I’m sorry. I’m a horrible, pretentious, elitist bitch. Thinking I can come in and clean your house and help you with Easton.” My chest felt tight. “Next time just tell me to shut up.”