Page 73 of Panty Dropper

CHAPTER 32

Reagan

Spring break had officially sprung in Firefly.

My plan had been to take the trolley down to the pier to meet up with Nadia but imagine my surprise when I’d found out there was a forty-five-minute wait. And the Uber line was longer than that. I hadn’t even been aware that there was Uber on Firefly Island.

So, getting back to my roots, I’d walked.

The streets were filled with vacationers. I’d been warned about the influx of people that came to town this time of year, but I hadn’t expected the sheer volume I saw. I wasn’t a stranger to overpopulated areas thanks to the many years I’d spent in Manhattan. But this was different than the hectic chaos I was accustomed to. The sleepy coastal town had a more Disney World vibe to it than Times Square.

In the fifteen minutes since I’d left Mrs. B’s and began my trek along the pedestrian path headed toward the pier, my foot was stepped on half a dozen times. I was elbowed, pushed, and walked directly into.

My journey was like navigating through bumper cars, sans the cars—so I guessed it was like bumper people. None of the tourists were paying attention to where they were going. Groupings of families, singles, and especially teens and young adults were bottlenecking the flow of foot traffic by stopping and taking selfies.

“Excuse you!” A woman with a loud yellow halter-top and camo leggings shouted at me after I’d been shoved into her by the person behind me.

I felt myself teetering on the edge of losing my shit, but instead of making the situation worse, I took a deep breath and mumbled, “Sorry,” as I pushed past her.

Patience wasn’t a virtue I’d been born with, but over my nearly thirty years on this earth, I liked to believe that it was a trait I’d developed and nurtured, especially in adulthood.

Unfortunately, it had all been used up in the first ten minutes of this walk. I was running late thanks to the dryer at Mrs. B’s taking two cycles to actually do its job and dry my clothes. I’d texted Nadia and let her know that I was on my way to the crab feed over an hour ago, before I’d discovered my still damp clothes after the dryer stopped.

I had put the time to good use, though; I was almost done with the brief that needed filing on Monday. Tomorrow, I’d pop into the office and finish it up. The question was, whether or not I’d be going there from Billy’s bed or not. He’d invited me to go to the bar, and as tempted as I was to explore our “benefits clause” further, I wondered if I’d be pressing my luck.

He seemed fine keeping things casual. After we’d cleaned up, he’d shown me the rest of the property, including the back portion of the wrap-around porch, where he’d set up some patio furniture. There were two Adirondack chairs with a small table in the middle of them, facing a large pond.

I’d fallen in love. And I was scared it wasn’t just with the property. I wanted to believe that I would be able to keep straight the separation of emotions and sex. The funny thing was, that had never been an issue with any of my other romantic partners. But everything with Billy was different. It was more. The question was, how much more…

My mind was a million miles away, or at least five miles at Southern Comfort, when I realized I’d finally made it to my destination. Thankfully, I’d managed to mindlessly arrive there by virtue of the flock of people herding me.

When I entered the pier beneath the large wooden arch that read Firefly Island Pier, which I’d seen when I’d taken the trolley tour, my senses went into overload.

Music blared from a zydeco band that was playing on a stage at the end of the pier. The smell of barbecue wafted through the air in the form of a smoky haze as a man with an I Have World Class Meat apron stood in front of a smoker shouting, “Get your hot meat here!”

Pink puffs of cotton candy were being swirled out of a large, whirling steel bowl by a woman dressed in a fuchsia tutu and Princess Leia buns. A baby was crying in a three-wheel stroller. A clown was making balloon animals.

This place was a circus, and not just because there was a clown. I was pulling my phone out of my purse, which I was wearing with the strap across my body, to text Nadia that I was there when I heard my name.

“Reagan! Rea! Over here!”

I looked up but couldn’t find my friend in the sea of people. All I saw was brightly colored tops and bikinis, cowboy and large floppy hats, sunglasses, and faces I didn’t recognize. I felt as if I was doing a real-life Where’s Waldo puzzle. It took several scans before I spotted a lone arm waving in the air. My gaze followed it down and saw it was attached to Nadia’s smile.

We both shimmied our way through the masses toward one another.

“You look so cute!” I enthused as we hugged.

I’d always admired Nadia’s ability to pull off what she called her “Daisy Duke” look. Today she was rocking cutoff denim shorts, cowboy boots, and a red tank top that complimented her sun kissed skin.

“So do you!” She held my arms out to the side, not even seeming to notice the people she bumped as she did.

I’d ditched my bridal shower dress and was rocking a maxi dress with spaghetti straps and ballet flats. Back home, it would’ve been perfectly acceptable if I’d been going to a New England-style crab feed, but here in Firefly, I stuck out like an overdressed sore thumb.

“This is crazy!” I exclaimed, dropping my arms back down to my sides.

Since moving down here a week ago, I’d heard people talking about the insanity that was spring break in Firefly, but I had to admit I’d underestimated the event by a long shot.

“I know, right!?” she shouted to be heard. “Come on!”

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