Page 49 of One Pucking Destiny

Reaching for her hand, I squeeze. “It’s real, and you deserve it. You’ve fought your whole life to get here. Maybe that’s why it’s so incredible. You always said dreams don’t come easy. You have to work for them.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And I’m so proud of you and everything you’re doing at school to make all your dreams come true.”

I give her a smile.

Accomplishing my dreams isn’t an option. It’s a guarantee. One thing I’ll never do is disappoint my mother. A lot of uncertainty hovers over me this week, but I have no doubt about the path I must take to make my dreams come true. Sometimes what we want and what we need are two very different things, and strength is knowing which is more important.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

BASH

The sun warms my skin. Eyes closed, I face the bright sky.

A splash of water hits my chest, and I sit up on instinct, a rush of air leaving my throat.

“Sorry!” One of our new female friends waves. She runs over and grabs the volleyball at the edge of the pool.

“Is this week over yet?” I grumble and lie back down.

Gunner laughs from the chair beside me.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You.”

“What about me?”

“Just because I don’t runmy mouth twenty-four seven like the rest of you fools doesn’t mean I don’t see stuff.” He raises a brow.

I throw my hands out. “What does that mean? Enlighten me, oh wise one.”

He releases a deep chuckle and stands from the lounge chair. “I’m going to get a drink. You want one?”

“Yeah, but not a beer. Something strong.”

“I’m not a fucking bartender, Cookie.”

“Fine. I’ll get it myself.”

He waves me off. “Sit your ass down. I’ll bring you something strong.” Gunner walks away, heading to the outside bar.

Max lifts himself out of the water and falls into the lounge chair on my other side. “What’s going on with you? Why aren’t you in the pool with us?”

I point at my crotch. “New ink, remember?” While I couldn’t care less about the rules, it’s as good an excuse as any.

“Eh, it’ll be fine. We’re getting a game of volleyball going. We found new friends.” He smirks.

“Yeah, they seem nice,” I deadpan.

“Dude. They’re fucking hot. The blond one has been eyeing you all morning. Come hang out.”

“She’s not my type.”

“She’s not your type?” he scoffs. “Hot, nice, and interested isn’t your type? Seriously, is there something going on that I don’t know about? Did your dog die?”

“I don’t have a dog.”

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