Page 83 of Just Friends

I’ve been chillingin the dunk tank for a good thirty minutes, and I have yet to go underwater.

One reason might be that only kids have played.

I’m ninety percent sure that will change when Molly hands Maliki the ball.

Shit.

“Dude,” I blurt out, shifting in the uneasy wooden seat, the ice-cold water up to my knees. “Hand the ball back to the kid, and I’ll buy you a round of beers.” I pause to hold up four fingers. “Make that four rounds.”

Today’s goal is to not get wet.

Maliki turns his hat backward, throwing the ball up in the air and catching it. “Did you forget that I own a bar and get my beer for dirt cheap?”

“Fifty bucks then!”

He continues tossing the ball in the air.

“I’ll give you permission to marry my sister.”

“He doesn’t need your permission,” Sierra pipes in before throwing her attention to Maliki. “Dunk him.”

“Why don’t you allow me the honors?”

The crowd, filled with grown-ups and children, part as Rick comes through, all dramatic and shit. He stops in front of Maliki and holds out his hand. Maliki shoots me an apologetic look before passing the ball to Rick. My eyes widen when Rick faces me, and the serious expression on his face confirms he’s determined to make this shot.

I’m unclear why Pastor Adams has a beef with me, but I thought after our breakfast, we were cool.

“Dad,” Carolina warns, catching on to the tension.

“What?” Rick asks, acting clueless. “It’s a game.” His eyes flash my way, meeting mine. “Right, Rex?”

“Just a game,” I repeat, hoping he’s never been an avid baseball player. “Let him have at it.”

Everyone’s attention is on us as they watch my girlfriend’s dad stretch his arm back as if he were throwing the winning pitch at the World Series and then chucks the ball toward the target. The crowd jumping up and down notifies me he’s going to hit the target, and seconds later, my seat collapses, dropping me into the pit of freezing water.

“Holy shit,” I can’t stop from yelling as I come up for air before standing.

Rick doesn’t pay me another glance while handing the ball to Maliki. “Your turn.” Without waiting for his response, he spins around and walks away.

Aren’t pastors supposed to be understanding, kind people?

That’d better have been a truce.

Maliki raises a brow in my direction as I shiver like a wet dog. “Seems you’re bonding well with your future father-in-law.”

“Never had a better relationship,” I reply, my teeth chattering as I wrap my arms around my body.

* * *

“Thankyou for getting wet for me.”

Carolina is leaning against a wall in the hallway when I step out of the church restroom, wearing fresh, dry clothes.

Lucky for me, after being dunked by her father, my job ended. Carolina had a towel waiting for me when I jumped out of the tank, and I wrapped it around my body while rushing inside the church, barefoot. She was behind me, asking for a volunteer to be the next dunk tank victim, but no takers were speaking up. Not surprising.I doubt my fall looked enjoyable.

I drop the bag of clothes onto the floor and run my hands through my damp hair. “Next time, put me at the kissing booth.”

She shakes her head, pushing off the wall. “Never happening, so don’t get your hopes up.”

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