Page 46 of Best Vacation Ever

“What are you turning me into?” he asks, his eyes closed.

“You said to surprise you.”

He opens an eye to peek at me. “Is it manly?”

“Oh yes. Very,” I giggle.

Dean bites back a smile, seeing right through me. “Excellent.”

Since his eyes are closed, I take a second to shamelessly examine his handsome face. His jaw is sharp and defined, with some sexy stubble that I forbid myself to touch with my hand like a total creep. Should I ditch the brush and use my fingers to discreetly feel up his face, or would that be superweird? Maybe I’ll stick to the brush, just in case tipsy-Lori does something sober-Lori will die of embarrassment from in the morning.

Once I declare him done, we switch spots so he can paint my face.

“After I’m done, we can both look in the mirror together,” I tell him as he paints.

His brows are drawn together in concentration, and his nose scrunches in the cutest way as he examines his work.

“I’m done,” he proclaims, adding a few extra lines on my face for good measure.

“Let’s see!” I hop up and grab a mirror that’s sitting on the table.

We press our heads together to see ourselves in the glass, and my heartbeat ramps up. I’m so preoccupied with our closeness that I don’t pay attention to my reflection, but Dean laughs at his.

“You said I was manly!” He turns to face me, his eyes playful rather than accusatory.

I smile innocently and nod.

“I’m a pink bunny!” he laughs, not even pretending to be mad.

I giggle at his face, especially the two buck teeth I painted. “I mean, you’re a very manly bunny. Do you like it?”

Dean doesn’t even check the mirror again when he says, “Of course. I love it!”

I’ve been giggling a lot tonight. Maybe it’s because of Dean, or maybe it’s the booze. Either way, I don’t really care, I’m having too much fun. I can’t stop myself from giggling again. He’s always so sure of himself. He doesn’t care that people walking by are looking at him funny, not like I would. He doesn’t even care that he’s more sunburnt than he was yesterday.

“Do you like yours?” he asks, and I realize I still have no idea what he’s painted on my face.

I look in the mirror again and see a beautiful pink butterfly on the side of my face.

“It’s so pretty!” I exclaim honestly, putting the mirror down as other people move into the painting station.

His wide smile makes my pulse jump. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Let’s show Dylan and Adam!” I tell him, looking around for the boys who are no longer at the table where we left them.

I really bonded with them today. Adam and Dylan may be incredibly drunk, but I felt less like a little sister tagging along and more like one of their friends.

Dean taps my arm. “Hey, do you remember what color swim trunks Dylan and Adam were wearing?”

I give him a weird look. “Is that a trick question? It’s a pink party, everyone’s in pink.”

“Yeah, I just mean . . . well, look.” He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me around before pointing to something. Once I see what he’s pointing at, I get why he asked.

There are two guys, the top halves of their bodies submerged in the bushes as they bend over on the outskirts of the party. All that’s visible in the dark is their brightly colored swim shorts and legs.

“Is that . . . ?”

I don’t even have to finish my question before Dean and I are heading over to the two pink shorts. When we get there, the stench of vomit hits my nose almost immediately.