Page 51 of One Pucking Destiny

“Yeah…I know. It’s a bummer.” I frown. “It was great meeting you, though.”

I swim away from her to sit on the ledge at the end of the pool and spot Eddy by the bar. “Eddy! Whiskey me!” I shout.

He looks from me to the bottle of whiskey on the bar top, and I nod.

Snatching it up, he jogs it over to me. “Careful, Cookie. You’re already slurring your words.”

“Have I ever not been careful?” I ask him.

“Um…many times.” He shakes his head and gives me a grin before returning to the bar to grab his beer.

Jaden’s voice booms across the water. “You guys,we should go to the theater tonight. Catch Annalise Sterling’s new film.”

“No!” I shout in unison with the other guys.

“What?” Jaden scoffs. “It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, we know.” Max laughs under his breath. “You’ve already dragged me to see it twice.”

“Me too,” Eddy chimes in.

“So? When a movie is good, you go see it several times,” Jaden protests.

“Noooo!” I wag my finger in front of me. Admittedly, the motion makes my head spin. “You don’t care about the movie. You’re a stalker!”

“What?” Jaden turns toward me. “Of who?”

“Annalise Sterling!” we all shout.

“Do any of you dumb fucks know what a stalker is? Watching a movie doesn’t qualify as such.” He pauses and extends his hand out in front of him. “I enjoy her art. She’s very talented.”

“You enjoy her ass!” Max laughs.

“Like in that shower scene,” Sean points out. “Or when she had sex on that motorcycle.”

“Oh, the motorcycle scene.” I sigh. “That was hot.”

My mind wanders as I listen to one of the strippers change the subject. I guess a conversation about a movie star’s ass isn’t high on her list of interests.

I chug some whiskey and let my head lean backagainst the pool’s edge. Closing my eyes, I relax. I take in the cool water as it splashes against me, and I listen to the excitement of the others in the pool. They’re having a lively chicken fight competition. I take another drink of the whiskey and feel the warm Texas breeze. Eventually, numbness engulfs me, and I let the blackness behind my eyelids pull me under where there are no feelings at all.

Something slides under my arms, and I feel heavy.

It sounds like someone puking.

I miss the coolness of the water.

My mouth tastes like vomit.

“You can’t let him drink whiskey like water!”

Why is everyone so loud?

“I’m not his father! He’s a grown-ass man!”

I’m so tired.

“I think I love you.”

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