Page 47 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“Dude. That was so much fun. I haven’t played with water guns in…well, forever. Hey, where’s my drink?”

As Brad heads off to retrieve his margarita, Sonny plops down at the long, bench-style table. He’s soaked from head to toe.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool,” he says, helping himself to a handful of chips.

My pulse trips, but I don’t have time to correct him before Uncle Johnny calls everyone to eat.

Lunch is a rowdy affair. I introduce Brad to the rest of my family. As myfriend. I’m not sure anyone believes me, even though it’s—sadly—the truth. Everyone, unsurprisingly, is smitten. Plates of potato salad and corn on the cob are passed as hands get messy with barbecue sauce. Most of the kids barely eat a thing before they’re up and moving again, not wanting to waste a perfectly good day of play.

“No pool for thirty minutes,” Sonia calls to the lot of them. She shakes her head gently before facing the table again. “So, Brad, what do you do?”

“Oh,” he says, wiping his mouth with his napkin before giving my cousin a smile. “I’m a game level designer with a focus on world design for DreamWyld, a company that produces massively multiplayer online video games.” When no one says anything, he adds, “I make virtual trees?”

“He helped createRun, Run, Ricochet,” I fill in, still impressed by that fact.

“Seriously?” my cousin Reggie asks. “Did you make that creepy skeletal forest in level ten?”

“I did!” Brad says happily. “Gave me nightmares for months.”

Most of my family chuckles, but based on Brad’s shiver, I’m pretty sure he’s serious.

I give his leg a squeeze, and his smile turns my way.

Dangerous, indeed.

Conversation shifts to construction, as it so often does in this family, and Brad gives me a nudge. “Pass the corn?”

I hand the plate over, and what transpires can only be described as one of the most erotic culinary experiences of my life. Brad rolls the corn over the butter dish, positively coating it before sucking his thumb into his mouth. He cleans the digit—thoroughly—while I squirm. Then, ever so slowly, he licks his way around one end of the corn cob, his tongue curling gently over the tip. I forget what my lungs are for. Finally, he takes a relatively normal bite, shooting me a scrunched-face smile when he sees me watching him.

“It was really wet,” he informs me.

I’m well aware.

Brad goes back to eating his corn, periodically licking it, sometimes biting. At one point, he wraps his mouth around one end, collecting a few kernels there.

And I thought the banana was bad.

I cross my leg over my knee as Brad sucks butter and salt off his fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice shooting me a thumbs-up.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

At least they’re supportive.

I’m grateful when our meal ends, having had to watch Brad attack his barbecue chicken with the same relish. I’m honestly not sure how much more I could’ve taken. Luckily, Brad finishes up, wiping his hands on a napkin. He gives me a nudge once done.

“Bathroom?” he asks.

I nod. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

I grab my bag on our way into the house, and then I lead Brad down the hall to the first-floor restroom.

“Here,” I say, passing his swim trunks over. “You can change now if you want.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding a little surprised by that. “I, uh… Sure. Don’t we need to wait thirty minutes, though?”

I huff a laugh. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine. I won’t let you drown, bub.”

He gives me a tentative smile, taking his swimsuit. “Okay. I’ll meet you out there.”

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