“According to Uncle Vaughn there is,” Drea told her. “He bet on this dude hitting on all of us tonight, so if you see someone in a bad toupee, grab on to Carlos or someone.”
“Ugh, Carlos can kiss my ass.”
“I’m pretty sure he got tired of that, Lee,” Dalton interjected.
“Bite me, Dalton.”
“Memory recalls you really enjoyed when I did that.”
Kyle just about spit out the beer he’d been sipping on. Ever since Drea confirmed these two had actually hooked up, and that Dalton’s comments like this weren’t conjecture, he found the level of cheek between the two of them even funnier.
“Do I dare ask what Carlos did now?” Drea asked.
“So, I got a list of demands, I mean, ‘requests,’ from my favorite guest for his stay in a couple of months,” Leona started. “And I made a comment about how that’s my least favorite two weeks of the year, because nothing is ever good enough for that man. And Carlos has the balls to go and say he is one of the best players to ever play the game.”
“That’s because Cullen Cruz is one of the best players to ever play the game,” Kyle said. Drea jabbed her elbow back quickly, nailing him right in the rib. “Ow.”
“Whatever, he’s not Ronald or whatever his name is.”
“Ronaldo,” Dalton and Kyle said in unison.
“Now he’s pretty,” Drea said, tipping her drink toward Leona.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just call arguably the greatest footballer of all time ‘pretty.’ And by the way, Lee, arguments against CR7 being the best ever usually involve your boy toy, Cruz,” Dalton threw out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a birthday girl over there who I’d like to offer my birthday suit to.”
“Whatever, and he’s not my boy toy. He can ‘bugger off’ as he would say,” Leona said, trying to mimic a British accent, as Dalton got up and walked toward the redhead he mentioned earlier. “So, you two—happy as clams?”
“For as happy as shellfish can be,” Drea said laughing. “That phrase has never made any sense to me.”
“That’s because it got shortened. The whole thing is ‘happy as a clam at high tide,’ which is when clams would be protected from predators, so naturally, a happy time for them,” Kyle answered.
“How do you know that?” Drea asked, turning slightly in his lap to look at him.
“Mr. Willett, of course. He was a very wise old man.”
“You sound like Miller,” Leona said. “Speaking of which, there were some lightbulbs out in the kitchen. I should go see if those got replaced. See you tomorrow?” She pushed herself out of the chair and Drea nodded to her that they’d meet up after breakfast.
“Didn’t she just say she was mad at him?” Kyle asked, watching her round the bonfire heading toward the lobby.
“According to Leona, angry sex is the best sex,” Drea answered, taking Kyle’s arms and wrapping them around her, allowing her to snuggle into him.
“I’ll file that away under things I never needed to know.”
Shortly after Leona went to tend to her concern over light bulbs, the father of the redheaded object of Dalton’s attention stood, tapped on his glass, and tried to get the attention of those around him. While he managed to get a couple of glances, most of those around him paid him no mind. This, however, did not stop the man from trying to hold court and perform what seemed to be a rehearsed monologue. The redhead had been chugging something that appeared fruity and tropical since they arrived and about what Kyle assumed was halfway through her dad’s “speech,” started to wretch and ran off.
“Looks like you don’t have to wear the shirt tomorrow,” Kyle commented, whispering into Drea’s ear.
“Yes!” she whispered in return, shaking her fist in triumph.
They sat in silence for a long while, just the two of them curled up, watching the fire and the party that surrounded it. Kyle was a little surprised that no one bothered them over the course of the evening. In fact, they hadn’t so much as seen a glimpse of her uncles. Part of him thought maybe that should worry him, but a much bigger part was enjoying the freedom even more.
Right before Kyle was about to suggest they head in for the night, they heard a female voice yell “yee-haw!” Looking over toward the beach, they found the divorce party, circled around the guest of honor as she stripped down and started to twerk. No sooner had she returned to a fully upright position than she was taking off for the water. All but one of her friends joined in, slipping out of their shirts and shorts with ease and making a run for it. The one left behind just shook her head and started to pick up the clothing left behind.
“He shoots, he scores!” Kyle said, squeezing Drea in closer.
Drea giggled as he did so and Kyle’s insides lit up at the sound. Seriously, it was the greatest thing he’d ever heard. Trying to keep it from stopping, he reached down and tickled her sides lightly. Her reaction was exactly what he had hoped for, a burst of more giggles and some squirming from her, which set him off laughing as well.
“You did that on purpose,” she said in between gasps of air.
