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I ruffle her damp hair. “I’m not an animal. When I say hang out, I do meanhang out. I’m not going to sleep with her tonight. Hey, actually, how about you call your watermelon guy? I’ll bringmy Junior Mints girl, and we can bring this picnic to the movie theatre. We could double.”
I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. That sounds like torture, actually. I don’t want to watch Lennox all night cozying up to another man. I also don’t feel like Leah is actually interested in going out anywhere. She made her intentions pretty clear. It was refreshing at least. I like an honest woman.
“I think that’d be distracting,” Lennox says barely above a whisper. “Watermelon guy deserves my full attention on our first date.”
I agree about the distracting part at least.
“Yeah…makes sense. You’re considerate. One of my favorite things about you.”
“Thanks.” She nods but hangs her head, examining her painted toes. They were perfectly intact this morning. So much time in the pool tonight did a number on her polish, which is now chipped and peeling. “Hey, you know what?”
“What?” I try to find her eyes, but she’s still staring down.
“I think I’m ready to try the ocean.”
“Really? Wow, I thought I was going to have to resort to bribes.”
She finally looks up, smirking. “What kind of bribes?” Pointing to my dive watch she asks, “Do they make that in purple?”
“I’m sure it could be arranged.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m obviously kidding, Dex. No bribes necessary. I’m just nervous. Can we do a beach entry instead of rolling off the boat?”
“Definitely. We’ll pace ourselves,” I assure her.
“And you’ll stay with me the whole time?”
“I promise.”
“Okay, just let me know when.” She bends down to pick up her towel and wraps it around her already dry body. At this point, it’s just for modesty. “If you’re absolutely sure you don’t need me, I’m going to go return that call.”
I nod. “I’m sure.” Lennox is three strides away when I ask her, “Hey, what’s watermelon guy’s name, by the way?”
“Alan,” she calls over her shoulder.
12
Lennox
Present Day
Las Vegas
Sitting, I glide my fingers over the grain and grit of the dirty curb, waiting for Dex to speak. Moments ago, he interrupted my flamboyant rendition of the electric slide and led me outside of the dive bar with urgency. He said he needed to talk to me about something important in private…but he has yet to say a word to me. Instead, he stepped a few paces away and started making calls, muttering in hushed tones. I didn’t bother trying to hear what he was saying.
It’s dark except for the flickering glow of the streetlamp across the street. The odor of the dumpsters across the street is really rounding out the ambiance. All we need is cop sirens in the distance or the screeches and wails of an alley cat fight to set the mood.
The effects of all the alcohol are finally wearing off. I’m tired. My bones feel heavy, and I imagine my blood is thick and sluggish in my veins. I’m also aware that I reek of smoke.Several people were chain-smoking cigarettes in the bar. Now, a headache is most definitely in the works.
I just want to go home and crawl into bed.
Except I don’t have a home. I no longer have a bed.
That’s the problem with pushing off your problems. They will, in fact, catch up with you the moment you stop dancing.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dex says, waving his phone in the air as he approaches me. “I was working out some logistics.”
I barely lift my shoulders, too exhausted to put in any more effort than that. “No big deal. I needed some fresh air anyway. Actually, I think I’m ready to leave if you are? I just need to pay my tab.”