23
Friday, July 4th
Lexi
Just like Memorial Day weekend, Fourth of July at Uncle Brad and Aunt Paula’s lake house is always an extravaganza for the Winslow clan. Though, every year, it feels like we’re adding more and more people, and speaking from a purely square-footage perspective, that’s a miracle.
Everyone is scattered, some inside the house, some swimming in the lake, and some sitting on the deck outside. I pour a glass of my grandma Wendy’s famous lemonade into a glass, give her shoulder a friendly squeeze as I pass by her in the kitchen where she cuts up a watermelon, and head out the deck doors to take in the chaos.
All the Winslow family is here. My parents, my brother, all my aunts and uncles—both Winslow and Hayes—Helen, my grandma Wendy and her husband Howard, and all my cousins. Not to mention, my parents’ best friends Kline and Georgia and Thatch and Cassie, along with their sons and daughters Ace, Gunnar, Julia, and Evie.
Finn brought Scottie along, and Blake tagged along with Ace—just like he suggested he would two weeks ago—and since Cassie and Georgia both graduated from Dickson too, many years ago, and the guys are all football freaks, everyone has been thrilled with the addition.
If I don’t lie to myself, I am too.
Which is categorically insane, considering how much time we’ve been spending together and how strong-willed I’ve been about keeping us a secret. In this close of quarters, being as addicted to each other as we are, with this many eyes and ears everywhere, it’ll be the eighth wonder of the world if we don’t get caught.
As I look down at the lake, I take stock of everything. Looking outward is way easier than looking inward, as it were. Ace and Julia swimming side by side, and even from up here on the deck, the way he looks at her is unmistakable—like she’s the only person in the world. His smile is broader, brighter, and his focus on her is unrelenting, like she’s gravity itself, anchoring him in place.
Blake told me about the night out at Groove a few weeks ago, when Julia’s joke about being pregnant catapulted Ace straight into the big I’m-in-love-with-my-best-friend moment that we’ve all been silently waiting for one of them to have.
The problem? Ace hasn’t told Julia yet. Instead, he’s channeled all his energy into something completely Ace-like—overhauling his entire class schedule to match hers for the fall semester. Blake described it with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, shaking his head at Ace’s plan to ward off any loser who dares to talk to her.
Frankly, I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified to find out how their fall semester ends up turning out. It feels like it’s all going to come up roses or go down in a fiery inferno.
I watch Blake hop out of the water, onto the dock, and I bite my lip to hide my smile when he cannonballs back into the water, purposely splashing a wave of water toward Ace.
Blake resurfaces, laughter spilling from his lips, carefree and alive as he revels in the moment with his friends. Watching him like this, so unguarded and full of joy, I feel it again—that irresistible pull he has on me, one I can’t seem to fight, no matter how hard I try.
“You motherfucker!” Ace shouts as he shakes the water out of his hair and swipes a hand down his face. His mom, Cassie, sighs from her current spot on the deck, sitting at the table with my mom and Georgia.
“Is it too late to trade my kids in for new ones?” she asks, and my mom laughs.
“I think the statute of limitations is up on that, Cass.”
“The party can officially fucking start!” a booming voice yells from the deck door, startling everyone’s attention. Though, with who it is, I’d say that’s exactly as he intended it.
Thatch walks out holding a big box of fireworks and wearing nothing but aviator sunglasses and swim trunks that have a smiling bald eagle and the words Fuck Yeah on the crotch. His youngest son Gunnar is right behind him, wearing a matching pair of swim trunks and sporting a new haircut—a mullet straight out of Joe Dirt .
“Thatch, I swear, if this ends in us having to call the fire department because you and Jude set a canoe on fire, I will cut off your dick,” Cassie says.
“Have no fear, Sweet Tits.” Thatch winks and pulls a fire extinguisher out of the box. “I’ve come prepared.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Gunnar adds. “Chill. We got this.”
Both Thatch and Gunnar head down the deck stairs, and Cassie lets out another deep sigh.
“What about trading in my husband?” she asks, her attention back on my mom and Georgia. “Is it too late for that?”
“How’s your prenup?” Georgia questions, already smiling at what she knows is a total joke on Cassie’s behalf. She and Thatch, while entirely crazy, are meant to be together. Truly, no one else on the planet could put up with them.
“I don’t have one.”
My mom laughs. “Looks like you’re stuck with him.”
Cassie groans. But she also smiles as she looks back toward the lake where Thatch is twerking on the dock while Gunnar holds up the box of fireworks in the air. “He is such a fucking idiot. I love him so much.”
“Is it just me, or does Gunnar’s new haircut have a lot of…party…going on in the back?” Georgia asks, her voice careful as she watches Thatch and Gunnar continue to act like fools down by the lake.
“Georgia, it looks like a mullet because it is a mullet,” Cassie answers on a laugh. “A terrible fucking mullet that I’m tempted to cut off while he’s asleep.”
“It’s not that bad, Cass,” Georgia says, always the eternal optimist.
My mom laughs, and she looks across the deck to meet my eyes. Her smile is loving and full of affection, and I can’t help but return it. “Lex, how do we feel about Gunnar’s new haircut?”
“It’s bad,” I answer, direct and to the point and with zero regrets about it. Gunnar Kelly’s mullet is nothing to admire. It’s, at most, rural kid cosplay on a billionaire budget.
Cassie cackles. “Thank you, Lex!”
“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” Georgia offers, and Cassie rolls her eyes.
“Georgia, sweetheart, I love you so much, but you don’t need to sugarcoat my idiot teenage son’s life choices,” she says with a knowing smirk. “What you should do is offer up some prayers that he gets through high school in one piece and a diploma in his hands.”
Georgia laughs. “Fine. Your son’s mullet is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’m offering my deepest condolences and prayers.”
“Finally.” Cassie nods and grins. “That’s more like it.”
I look out toward the lake again and note that Blake is now sitting on the dock beside Julia and Ace, watching toward the water as Thatch and Uncle Jude and Gunnar row around in a canoe. Their current destination is the other side of the lake, and I silently pray that whatever they have planned involves no actual fires this time.
Though, it is a little concerning that they now have Gunnar as an accomplice. The Fourth they planned a big fireworks show that ended in the fire department having to put out a flaming canoe, Gunnar was too young to join in on the fun.
But now, he’s a full-fledged teenager who seems to be a combination of both of his parents’ wildest, craziest genetics. No doubt, he’s a certified risk for the whole damn planet.
Ace and Julia laugh at something Blake says as he points toward the canoe full of crazy and fireworks, and a part of me wishes I were down there with them, listening in on whatever Blake is saying.
To distract myself from my FOMO-style envy, I pull my phone out of my pocket and discreetly type out a text before hitting send.
Me: Whatever you do, don’t get in that canoe.
I suck my lips into my mouth, holding back my smile when his response comes in a moment later.
Blake Boden: You worried about my safety, Lexi Lou?
Me: I’m worried about everyone’s safety when Thatch and Gunnar have fireworks.
Blake Boden: You want to come down here and go for a swim with me?
Me: Pretty sure that would make it a little obvious to everyone.
Blake Boden: Make what obvious to everyone? That you like me? That you can’t resist me? That, faced with the opportunity, your hands have absolutely no choice but to fondle me all over?
Me: Maybe you should stick to the fishing you can do with a pole. We are on a lake after all.
Blake Boden: When it comes to you, Lex, I’m fishing for anything I can get. All the fucking time.
Me: *rolls eyes*
Blake Boden: Just admit it, Lex. You like me.
Me: Don’t be so painfully na?ve, BB. It’s beneath you. You KNOW I like you, as you have evidentiary support in droves.
Blake: *clutches pearls* Lexi Lou…are you…talking about all the dirty things we’ve done in bed while using legal speak??? And is it turning me on?
Me: You DID admit the other night that Legally Blonde is one of your favorite movies. So, I wouldn’t be surprised. Should I continue?
Blake: FUCK YES.
I start to type out another message, but a hand to my shoulder startles me so much I bobble my phone in my hands.
“Ha, shit. Didn’t mean to scare you, Lex,” Finn says, his face morphing into a curious but soft smile.
Quickly, I slide my phone into the back pocket of my jean shorts and turn to face both him and Scottie. He stands behind her wheelchair, his hands gently gripping the handles, and Scottie smiles up at me.
“We just wanted to say thanks,” she says, and I tilt my head to the side.
“Thanks?”
“Yeah,” Finn chimes in. “For talking to your dad about Scottie. He’s already reached out and wants to do a consultation when he’s back in the States.”
“Oh,” I answer with a little shrug. “It was no big deal.”
“Actually, it was a big deal,” Scottie says, and she reaches out to gently grip my forearm. “I know the odds of him being able to do anything are probably slim, but any opportunity is an opportunity, you know?”
I nod. “For sure.”
But as the words settle in, my gaze drifts back toward the dock, almost instinctively. Blake is there, standing at the edge, his silhouette outlined by the golden shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the lake.
Any opportunity is an opportunity. Scottie’s words echo in my head, but they’ve taken on a completely different meaning now.
The thought of finding secret moments with Blake this weekend—moments hidden away from prying eyes, when it’s just the two of us, like it’s been night after night in the quiet intimacy of our apartments for the past two weeks—sends a heady rush through me.
And maybe, just maybe, this weekend’s secret moments will include the one thing I can’t stop fixating on— having actual sex with Blake.