Page 77 of Rebel Summer

Before I could overthink or change my mind, I turned around and strode back toward the garage, bursting into the doorway. Dax startled at my entrance as he stood on a fishing boat, the can of oil in his hands.

“Do you want to come?”

His eyebrows raised. “Play volleyball?”

“Yeah.”

He raised his arms, basically giving me full permission to comb my eyes all over him. “Do I look like I play volleyball?”

My eyebrows raised as I eyed his muscles and tattoos peeking out of the bottom of his sleeve and asked, “Have you ever seen Top Gun?”

He smiled and took a seat on the boat. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“You chicken?”

Laughing, he said, “I guess so. Have fun, Books.”

Suddenly, I wanted Dax to come play volleyball more than anything in the world. Other than when he came in for lunch sometimes at the cafe, I had never seen him anywhere else. He was at the shop until ten most nights. I did know he occasionally watched a game with Beau and Phoenix at one of their houses, because I’d heard them talking about it. And except for the night he took me to get a tattoo, I’d never seen him leave early before. From all appearances, Dax Miller should be lonely.

“Two hours.” My eyes widened at what I blurted out. I counted my hours every night in my head like dollar bills. I couldn’t just throw them away. And yet…

“Huh?” His voice was muffled.

“I’ll give you two hours back if you come with me.”

He set the oil can down and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t think you have two hours to bargain.”

I didn’t. If I had any sense in my brain, I’d be spray painting a building right now, but something about being with Dax made me forget all about the hours.

“I’m now sporting a tattoo, and I brought you a hamburger AND a drink the other day. Two hours.”

“A fake tattoo. And you drank half of it.”

“Not my problem.”

I heard a huff of laughter before he stood to look at me, his hands resting on his hips. “Five.”

I scoffed. “It will only take one hour to play the game.”

“Four.”

“Two, final offer. If you don’t accept, I'll make your life miserable in this place.”

He glanced up at his clock made from old boat propellers. “How so?”

“Say goodbye to all your tools neatly in place on your walls, that’s for sure.”

Still he didn’t move, so I tried again.

“My songs all over your playlist.”

A hint of a smile appeared just then. “You’ve already done that, and I’ve erased them all.”

“I heard Bon Jovi earlier.”

“Must have missed one.” His soft voice caused a hitch in my breath. I forced myself to focus on my task of forcing Dax to have fun.

“Just come. Are you afraid you’re going to have fun?”

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