Page 12 of Summer Ever After
Jenny’s eyes were watering. “You’ve got to be making this up. You met a girl named Daisy on the side of the road. Have you seenPretty Woman,Max?”
“Oh. my God..” I groaned. “Not like that, and I’m pretty sure that there aren’t hookers in Windswan.”
Jessica smacked my arm. “Sex workers, Max. That’s what they’re called.”
“Or escorts.” Ramona held up her drink. “I know that there are a few of those in town. I’ve heard rumors about some of the good old boys at the club and their pretty ‘dates’ for the golf fundraiser.” She made quotation marks with her fingers.
“She was walking home from the grocery store. My motorcycle was broken down on the side of the road. She helped me start it.” The crackle of the wood in the firepit was the loudest sound in the air. Jess’s friends were all staring at me with the intensity of a bunch of dudes watching a shootout in a hockey game.
“And…” Jenny prodded.
My cheeks burned and it wasn’t from the extra log Jess had just added to the pit. “We kind of hit it off. She seemed different than all of the other girls.”
Ramona rolled her eyes. “Sure. So different.”
My stomach clenched. “Yes. Different. She knew all about my motorcycle.” I realized that sounded dumb, so I continued. “She seemed smart, tough, sweet, and…” my voice faded. She was all of those things, but she was also something else – dishonest – a trait that almost all of my ex-girlfriends had also possessed.
“So she was a cool girl.” Jess filled the silence. “What happened next?”
“We went for a ride. She’s used to motorcycles, she was the perfect passenger.” The sensation of her arms around my waist and her thighs squeezing mine lingered, as though she was still there, the heat from her legs lingering on mine. I rubbed the thighs of my jeans, my hands sweating as I recounted my afternoon with Daisy. If that was even her real name.
“Stop.” Jenny held up her hand. “Before you wax poetic about her balance on two wheels, what did this mysterious Daisy look like?”
“Beautiful.” I shook my head. “In a really understated kind of way.” I wasn’t going to tell the girls about the worn-out shoes, or sweaty thrift store baseball hat. “She has long hair, blonde I think.”
“You think?” Jess laughed.
“It was in a long braid. Under a hat.” With every second that passed, the details started to fade. Her hair was light brown, maybe blonde, but her eyes were definitely blue. That birthmark though. I will never forget the killer whale on her thigh. “It was either blonde or light brown. She was average height, like your height Jess.”
“I’m five foot ten.” Jess crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m far above average.”
Was she as tall as my sister? Dammit. We had spent so much time on the rock, on the bike, suspended in the water, I really couldn’t say whether her eyes met mine when she was standing on the ground. “Okay, maybe she’s a bit shorter than you. Her eyes are blue.” Of that, I was sure.
Jess’s eyes glowed from behind the dancing flames of the campfire. “She’s got light brown or blonde hair, she may or may not be average or above average height, with blue eyes.” She pointed to her fingers as she rattled off my not-so-specific details. “Where’s her cottage?”
The four women stared at me. “She doesn’t have a cottage on the lake. She lives…” I stopped and took a sip of my drink. I shook the can, it was empty. “I’ll be right back. I have to get another drink.”
Jess opened the cooler next to her. “Not a chance, Maxine.” She tossed me another vodka soda. “We’re all way too invested in this story for you to pull an Irish exit.”
She knew me well. I had planned to slip into the cottage, get in the shower, jerk off, and then go to sleep, hoping to forget about the woman with the orca birthmark. Cracking open the drink, I eased back into the chair. “I don’t know where she lives. That’s where it got weird.”
None of the girls interrupted, but they all leaned in a little closer. “What do you mean weird?” Jess asked.
“We went for a ride on my bike.”
“Yeah, we got that. She ‘rode’ your ‘bike’ well.” Ramona laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “Grow up Moans.” I used her nickname. “We went for a bike ride.” I paused, waiting for another snide comment. When it didn’t come, I continued. “To Keystone Point.”
“Oh, my God.” Jenny rocked back in her chair and squealed with laughter. “You’re a thirty-year-old man and you took her to Make-out Rock?”
I didn’t correct her. I was thirty-one, and coming from Jenny it did sound like a dirty old man thing to do. “Wait.” Jenny gripped the armrests of the chair and pulled herself to the edge. “How old is she?”
“I think she’s twenty-three or twenty-four.”
Jess narrowed her lips before speaking. “You think? Max…”
“I know.” I held up my hands. “She’s at least twenty-three.”
