Page 27 of Seven Year Itch
I press my lips together and inhale sharply through my nose. “It’s not worth rehashing. This is a hen party. We should be having fun, not talking about my drama with Calder Fletcher. Let’s do another tequila shot!”
Cozy shakes her head. “I’m out on this round.”
“Fine, but your ass is still dancing!”
Calder
“And the prize for the lamest bachelor party goes to...” I murmur under my breath as I cast my fishing pole into the water that’s glowing from the lights on the boat.
“Did you say something, Calder?” Wyatt asks, his voice deep and threatening.
“Is this really what you wanted to do for your big stag night?” I ask with a laugh. “Night fishing?”
“You can literally see the fish,” Wyatt replies, like that’s somehow supposed to make this lame experience better.
I scoff and shake my head as I prop my rod on a holder and head to the cooler for another beer. We’ve been out here for hours, and while, yes, we’ve caught our fair share of fish, I didn’t realize this was going to be our entire evening. My brother is a pathetic groom.
“This is Wyatt’s night,” Luke argues in his defense. “When you get married, we’ll do whatever freaky thing you want to do.”
“Ha,” I bark out at that notion as I point accusingly at Wyatt. “Unlike this fucker, I actually take our pact seriously. Marriage ain’t never happening for me.”
Max laughs and shakes his head but says nothing. A rare occurrence for him. Usually, he loves the opportunity to judge us and our mountain-life ways. Point out everything he thinks we’re doing wrong. He’s a real treat.
“Where were you all day today, anyways?” Wyatt asks as he casts his pole out into the darkness. “You missed a great afternoon on the beach.”
“I was taking care of your baby,” I grumble.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“No, but Mom deserved a break, and I needed a nap.” I cross my arms and sulk a bit. “I sleep better with Stevie on my chest. She reminds me of Milkshake.”
“Cat-fucker.” Luke coughs out his remark from where he’s standing at the bow.
I narrow my eyes at my baby brother. “Call me that again and you’re going for a swim.”
The boat lights cast a glow on his face as he smirks behind his beard. “Cat. Fucker.”
I set my beer down real calm and collected before I lunge, snatching him up by the collar as he howls with laughter. It takesboth Max and Wyatt to pry me off him, and after a good scolding from our fishing guide about the importance of boater safety, I sit down and drink my beer in stony silence.
“Luke, stop pushing Calder’s buttons,” Max states firmly after we’ve all settled down. “You know he’s testy when he doesn’t get a full eight hours.”
I down the rest of my beer. “I’m in hell. Mexico is my hell.”
A couple hours later, after about six more beers and a dozen more fish, we make our way back to the villa, the ocean breeze and booze marginally lightening my mood. When we walk toward the main house, I can hear the girls cackling from the kitchen where they are going to town on some late-night munchies.
Wyatt instantly makes his way over to Trista, Max to Cozy, and Luke to Addison. I can’t quite tell if he’s fucking Addison or not. I tried to get some details out of him earlier tonight, but he wouldn’t spill—the asshole.
Then there’s Dakota, who intentionally turns her back on me like she has a reason to be pissed about me sleeping on the shitty sofa bed. My eyes drink in her back on full display in a pink-orange-ombré sort of dress with a fringe skirt that goes all the way to the floor. She looks like sherbet fucking ice cream, and the second that comparison comes to mind, I imagine licking dessert off her very smooth-looking back.
What the fuck am I doing? I am mad at Dakota. She was a bitch about the sofa bed this morning, and I should not be lusting after her.
Feeling feisty, I walk over and stand directly beside her so my shoulder brushes hers. She shivers but doesn’t acknowledge my existence, so I grab a chip and dip it into the bowl of guacamole directly in front of her. I lean over the counter to make an obnoxious crunch right in her face.
“This is good.” I grab another. “Don’t you think this is good, Dakota?”
Her hooded eyes narrow as she sways in her heels. “Did you have any luck finding an air mattress today?”
“No,” I snap and grab another chip. “Wyatt took us fishing, so we didn’t go into town for me to do any shopping.”
