Page 147 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

The instant Atlee’s eyes lit up with a sparkle, I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“Are you jealous?”

“Pfft, no.” The insinuation was laughable.

“You are.” A grin spread across his face. “This is going to be fun.”

That’s it.

“Stay right there,” I said while walking around to the back of my truck. “So I can beat you to death when I find my bat.”

“Ooo, kinky. I like it.”

Ugh, asshole.

Ignoring the playful glimmer in Atlee’s expression as he closed his door and strutted over, I climbed up on my bumper and leaned over the tailgate to rummage around under the purple tarp I had rolled up in the corner.

It wasn’t long before his annoying face peeked over the edge. “What kind of bat do you have?”

“A wooden one.”

I held up a tire iron and briefly considered using that before tossing it aside. Killing Romeo wasn’t the objective. Yet anyway.

“Is it a Marucci, Victus, or Louisville?”

I stopped and tipped my gaze his way – which by the way was not easy to do while bent over like I was. “What?”

“Who made the bat? The manufacturer is important. Marucci makes a solid bat, but I personally prefer the feel of Victus.”

Who was that interested in a bat? It was a bit disturbing when I thought about it. What did a guy like Atlee use a bat for, cause I’d seen some videos online I wished I could unsee.

“It’s a pink bat I stole from my brother’s fiancé.” To be fair she left it laying around unattended.

I continued to dig around while the arch in Atlee’s brow deepened. “You brother’s engaged?”

“No.” I grumbled and stretched out to extend my reach.

“Ah, I see. How long did she stick around after he was arrested?”

“Do minutes count?” Though if I was being honest, it was probably more like seconds before she hooked up with someone else.

“Do I sense some bitterness?”

“No.” I scoffed. “I think she’s a fine human being who should have nothing horrible happen to her.”

Did I secretly curse her to step on Lego barefoot in the middle of the night? Yes, yes I did.

“Want me to fuck her up?”

“Fuck her up, or fuck her?” Given who I was talking to, either was a viable option.

I threw the edge of the tarp over my head and pushed a bunch of rope – which I had no idea I had – out of the way.

“Why settle for one when I can do both?”

Ugh, typical.

“She gets enough dick on her own… trust me.”

---