Chapter 33 Blake
BLAKE
WE ARE FLIRTING WITH DANGER, Wyatt and I.
Over the next four days, we manage to hook up without getting caught, though that isn’t to say we don’t come close. Somehow, we successfully explain our way out of ridiculous situations, and somehow, not a single person, in a group comprising some of the smartest people I’ve ever met, catches on.
After a particularly risky boathouse blowjob in the middle of the day, Demi Davenport catches me scurrying away, and I pretend I was chasing a bird because, you know, I’d gotten into bird-watching.
Which then forces me to look up bird facts later so I can tell everyone about the mountain chickadee at dinner while Wyatt barely contains his laughter.
The next day, we’re bolder. With everyone tanning or dozing on the beach and dock, I start jerking him off in the lake.
To anyone watching, it looks like we’re just chilling, resting our elbows on the floating swim platform, but beneath the water?
Hand job galore. I don’t let him come, though, and it’s ten long minutes before he can safely get out of the water.
I think I see Stella giving us a funny look that day, but you never know with Stella because of her resting bitch face.
The biggest risk came last night, when Wyatt texted around midnight.
SONGBOY
I haven’t slept since the circus arrived, freckles. Come sleep with me.
Way too dangerous. You know we’ll do more than sleep.
SONGBOY
Just sleep. I promise.
Please, baby.
I can’t deny Wyatt a thing when he calls me baby. Or when he begs. So I snuck out of my room and into his, he held up the blanket to let me crawl underneath, and then he slept in my arms for hours. I crept into the hall at dawn, terrified someone would catch me, but the coast was clear, thank God.
Still, I refuse to take the chance again when he tries to lure me into his room the following night. No way am I pushing our luck.
Beau and I have moved on to the next round in the badminton tournament, and he insists on practicing every morning for at least thirty minutes.
You’d think it would be awkward considering he tried to fuck me the night of the bonfire, but things seem normal with us.
He apologized the next day, said he was wasted, and went right back to platonic.
When I told Wyatt about it, he raised a brow and told me there’s no way it’s platonic on Beau’s end.
“A man doesn’t want to fuck you one day and go back to viewing you as a friend the next one,” Wyatt warned, but I’m choosing to believe that Beau will let any lingering attraction he feels for me fade. At least I hope he does.
Today I’m spending the afternoon with Mom on the beach. We’ve claimed two chairs on our little stretch of sand, and I’m filling her in on all the research I’ve done this summer.
“So these Spencers,” she says, “are we sure they’re not serial killers?”
“Pretty sure, but you never know.”
“And what’s this podcast you’re doing with them?”
“Oh, I’m not officially doing it. Little Spencer won’t stop badgering me to be his cohost, but I only agreed to record a guest episode about Darlie.
” I glance over with a broad smile. “I’m having so much fun with this mystery, Mom.
Every time I send an email request for information and they send back a report, it’s, like, the most exciting present ever. ”
I can tell she’s trying not to laugh at me. “Your nerdiness knows no bounds, sweetie.”
“I know.” I shrug ruefully. “Poor Dad. I’m sure he wishes I was cooler. Or into sports.”
“Of course not. Your father doesn’t care what you do as long as you’re happy.” She smiles at me. “And clearly the summer of Blake is a success.”
I furrow my brow. “I mean, not really. I still have no idea what I want to do after college.”
“I don’t know… It sort of seems like you do.”
The groove in my forehead deepens. “What, like researching stuff? I’m pretty sure ‘research assistant’ isn’t exactly a lucrative career.”
“Hey, you never know. This podcast sounds promising too, and that’s certainly something that could eventually make you money. What if it blows up?”
I shift awkwardly. “I don’t want that kind of attention.”
She flicks up a brow. “Hmm, really. So you don’t want the world to know how smart and insightful and captivating you are?”
“Mom, chill. I’ve spent the summer researching a ghost story. You hyping that up is the equivalent of someone hanging their toddler’s artwork on the fridge.”
She laughs. “You really need to give yourself more credit.”
I shrug in response.
After a beat, Mom’s tone turns cautious. “Is there any update on Isaac?”
I sip my water. “Nope. Other than our continued custody battle over Hot Boi.”
“You know, we could just buy you another toaster,” Mom sighs.
“That’s not the point. It’s the principle of it. I bought that one, therefore it’s mine. And he didn’t even want that brand,” I fume. “He’s fighting for Hot Boi, while if it’d been up to him, we would’ve gotten the dumb toaster with only two slots. Two.”
“Are you sure you’re not hung up on this boy? Because… That was a lot of passion.”
“Trust me, it is not passion for Isaac. I don’t have feelings for him anymore. I haven’t thought about him romantically in months.”
We head back to the house for lunch, which is a chaotic affair since we’ve still got a full house, every bedroom occupied and the boathouse jammed to the gills. There are so many people that we need both the dining room table and the one on the deck to accommodate everyone.
I’m at the outside table next to Beau’s sister Kate, polishing off my burger, when I get a text from Little Spencer.
I glance at Wyatt, who’s sitting a few chairs down from me. “Little Spencer says hi.”
“Did they go back to New York?” he asks as he reaches for his water glass. “We haven’t seen ’em in a while.”
“No. End of August, I think. They’ve just been busy. I’m going over there next week to record the Darlie episode with them.”
“These Spencers,” my dad says to Wyatt. “They’re really not creeps?”
“No, they’re just fucking weird,” Wyatt answers, and the Golden Boys break out laughing.
Tara, of course, is draped over AJ’s lap, but that doesn’t stop her from checking out Wyatt every chance she gets, which annoys me.
Yes, he looks delicious today—eating lunch shirtless will do that—but this girl can keep her eyes to herself, thank you very much.
She’s got her own gorgeous boyfriend to ogle.
And I mean gorgeous. Any son of people as beautiful as Jake and Brenna Connelly is destined to be stunning, but AJ surpasses expectations with his bottomless brown eyes, chiseled features, and dark hair that always falls so artfully on his forehead.
“I love this podcast idea,” Gigi pipes up, joining the conversation. “You should do more than a guest episode, Blakey. Do you realize how much money people are making with podcasts these days?”
“Bullshit,” AJ says dubiously.
“It’s true,” she argues. “You can make a killing, especially if you offer a video version. My friend Diana started a cheerleading channel—her videos are like a day in the life of a cheer coach kind of thing, and she also does a weekly podcast for it. She has over two million subscribers and earns four or five figures per video.”
My dad whistles. “Jeez.” He glances at me. “What are you waiting for, sweet pea? We’re a podcasting dynasty now.”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s see how this guest episode goes first.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, then scrapes back his chair.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Inside to make after-lunch cocktails. Who wants some LMD?” Dad asks the group, and Wyatt chokes mid-sip, spewing water all over his chin.
I diligently avoid his gaze because I know I’ll bust out in laughter if I do.
“You okay there?” Gigi asks her twin.
“Fine.” He coughs and wipes his face.
“You sure?” Beau says, leaning around AJ so he can grin at Wyatt. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re drinking water. You realize there’s beer here, right?”
“God forbid I might want to hydrate,” Wyatt says.
“No, Beau’s right,” Gray chimes in, frowning. “You haven’t gotten wasted once since we got here.”
“What, we’re not cool enough for you anymore?” AJ cracks.
“You were never cool enough for me,” Wyatt answers frankly.
“You’re hardly smoking too,” Gigi suddenly says, eyeing him curiously.
“Trying to quit,” he says with a shrug.
Gray snorts. “Since when?”
Another shrug. “Since I heard chicks don’t love it.”
I clamp my teeth over my lip to keep the big, dumb smile off my face. God. He means me. I thought he wasn’t smoking because he was too lazy to drive to town to buy cigarettes. The realization that he stopped for me has my heart soaring like a helium balloon.
I help clean up the mess left over from lunch, then pop upstairs to pee and change into a swimsuit. The girls and I wanted to sunbathe for a while, but that plan changes when a message from Wyatt pops up.
SONGBOY
Come take a nap with me.
I abandon the bikini on the bed and slip out the door, my bare feet scampering in the direction of the blue room.
Like I said, I can’t deny this man a thing.