Page 50 of Fight Or Flight

Before the fun police fucks this night up even more.

I go to take her hand but stop myself. Instead, I nod toward the front door impatiently.

“Eric,” my dad calls.

Christ. What the hell happened to him?

“Yeah?”

“No glove, no love.”

It’s official—he’s finally lost the few marbles he had left.

* * *

After a quick goodbye to Joss,we were finally on our way. The drive to the party was awkward as all hell. It felt like the last couple of days never happened and we were back to being two clueless teens sitting across from one another in a pizzeria. I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to tell her she looked amazing. I wanted to stare at her lips the entire ride there, but my dad had gotten in my head.

He also had gotten into my pockets.

Something I realized when I attempted to make small talk by offering Brooklyn a stick of gum. I reached into the pocket of my leather jacket and instead of finding a pack of gum; I found a strip of condoms. Thankfully, neither of us had bad breath, or we’d really be up shit’s creek without a paddle. But hey, if we wanted to rock the canoe, we could have safe sex.

Where was I? Oh, right. So, the party was at Michael Dawson’s house, a senior who lived on the south shore of Staten Island in a cushy mansion with the beach acting as his backyard. I instructed Brooklyn to park in front of Michael’s house and I led her to the backyard. There was a fence we had to jump to get to the beach, and that’s when things went downhill. Apparently, jumping fences isn’t a sport in Connecticut like it is in the concrete jungle and the girl with the tight pants needed a boost.

Having Brooklyn climb me like a tree wasn’t something I was prepared for; at one point my hands were on her ass and my face was buried in between her tits. It was hell in its purest form and I actually wound up throwing her over the fence.

You read that correctly.

I threw her over the fence, and she’s been brushing sand out of places sand shouldn’t be ever since.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter as we trek through the sand.

“It’s okay,” she says, shaking out her shirt. “I didn’t know the party was on the beach. Can’t we get in trouble for being here?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“It’s a public beach.”

“The sign on the fence said it closes at dusk and trespassers will be prosecuted.”

“You read the sign?”

“Well, yeah, before you sent me flying over the fence, I read the sign.”

Something tells me I’m never going to live this one down. Forty years from now, when we’re sitting in the backyard with our grandkids, she’s going to tell them about that one time when grandpa threw grandma over the fence and the rest, kids, is history.

“Don’t worry, okay?” I say, taking her hand. Fuck it. I give it a squeeze and watch as her eyes dart from our joined hands back to mine. “We do this shit all the time. I promise it’s all good.”

Smiling, she raises an eyebrow and I notice just how long her eyelashes really are.

“You throw girls over fences on the regular?” she teases.

Grinning at her, I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Nah, you’re my first.”

She blushes, and all is right in my world again. I forget about the awkwardness of the car ride, and I push my dad’s voice out of my head as I drape an arm around her shoulders and lead her to the bonfire. Danny is the first to spot us and jumps up from his spot in the sand.

“You made it, Montgomery.”

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