Page 39 of Unsupervised
“I’m on my way. I’m right around the corner.”
As soon as I hang up, Serena is by my side. “Well?”
“He’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” This is happening so fast. I was only going to text him. I didn’t even think he’d reply. “What have I done?”
Serena chuckles at my horrified question. “Don’t freak out. You like him. He clearly feels the same way if he’s coming here.”
He really must’ve been around the corner because only a few minutes pass before he pulls his truck into the parking lot in front of our apartment. No one except Zara and Remee seem to notice when he walks over to me, and I can see Serena is filling them in. Everyone is too focused on the argument taking place between Marty and Owen.
“Hey,” I say as he walks up to me. Damn, he looks good. The white tee shirt and jeans he’s wearing make him look younger, less serious than the way he dresses for teaching.
“Happy birthday.” His smile sends a spike of…something through my chest. It’s not a bad feeling.
“Thank you.”
“I’ve always heard this neighborhood knows how to throw a party.”
Before I can respond, Owen shouts, “That’s it! Leg wrestle!”
Marty points at him. “In the mud.”
So far only a few of the kids have gone in the tank and it was hilarious to watch, but I think this might be even better.
“Marty and Owen have been arguing over something I didn’t quite catch, and it’s devolved into this,” I explain to Layton.
“Glad I got here in time.” He grins down at me.
“This is what you want to do with your weekend?”
“I want to be where you are.” His eyes stay on mine as he speaks, and the warmth I feel from those words is stronger than the heat of the night or the alcohol. “Let’s get a closer view.” He slips his hand into mine and leads me over to the edge of the mud tank. His hand is every bit as soft as I’d imagined, and I love the way it swallows mine.
“You’re on,” Owen shouts at Marty.
Zara snorts when Marty yanks his shirt off. “You’ve been waiting to do that all night.”
Marty flexes both arms and in a douche of the century move, kisses one of his biceps. “If being sexy is illegal, just call me a criminal.”
“Cleared of all charges for lack of evidence.” Zara bangs her fist on the picnic table like a gavel.
My chest shakes. Everything is just so damned funny tonight. And awesome. Everything is awesome, like my new yellow scooter, and being with my friends, and having such a great brother. Plus, you know, Layton is holding my hand like it’s just a normal thing to do. I love the world tonight. I wonder if that’s the alcohol? If so, I don’t care. I should drink more often because this is the best I’ve felt since that catastrophic kiss.
The girls move closer, along with quite a few others, when Marty and Owen climb in the tank. They lie on their backs in the mud, with matching shit eating grins on their faces, and lift to touch their legs while they count out loud.
“One, two, three.”
Owen never really had a chance. Marty is too tall. He’s all leg. It takes him a second with their legs locked together to flip Owen over, smashing his face in the mud. “Best two out of three,” Owen insists, lying down again.
The second attempt doesn’t go any better, and Owen leaps up. “Screw this! Real wrestling! First one to tap out!”
Layton leans down to murmur into my ear. “This isn’t going to go well.” It sends a chill racing down my spine.
“Owen is stubborn. He doesn’t quit.”
Layton looks down at me. “Are you two seeing each other?”
The question catches me off guard. I suppose it makes sense he’d think that since Owen often gives me a ride. “No, he’s just a friend…I’m not seeing anyone.” After a moment of hesitation, I add, “Are you?”
“No.” He sighs. “I had a chance with a beautiful piano player, but I may have blown it. Any advice on winning her back?”