Chapter 4 #2
Coach’s hand moved to caress Saylor’s shoulder, and he kissed her cheek. There was that anger again.
Yep. I definitely still don’t like the guy.
Or his stupid fucking Speedo.
“Are you sensitive to the sun? I noticed you put your shirt on as soon as you got out of the water,” Selena said, looking up at me from where she sat beside me.
“You checking me out?” I teased, and I looked up to see Saylor watching us before she quickly looked away.
“Always.”
Yeah, I’d made a point to keep my back turned away from Saylor while my shirt had been off. And I covered up as soon as I got out of the water. Normally, I liked being shirtless and showing off the goods, but I had my reasons for not doing that today.
“Well, I think it’s harder for bees to sting you through your clothing,” I said, my voice light.
“I have a nephew who’s allergic to peanuts, and my sister has to carry an EpiPen with her. I get it. It’s scary when your body has a reaction to something like that.”
“Thank you. My brother’s a real cocksucker about it, and the guys always razz me. But this time of year has me a little on edge when I’m outside.” I shrugged.
“That makes sense. I hate bees, too.” She batted her lashes.
I didn’t hate bees. I feared bees.
“When do I get to get my Ride or Die tattoo, Pops?” Cutler asked, just like he had many times before.
“We’ve talked about this, buddy. You can’t get a tattoo until you’re old enough to make a decision like that.”
“But I want to match you and all my uncles.”
“You all have the same exact tattoo?” Peyton asked, setting her corn on the cob down on her plate.
“Give or take,” River said. “We each chose different fonts and styles. And of course, King went and threw a flower on his.”
Fucking River. The guy never has much to say but manages to say exactly what he shouldn’t.
“I saw that on your shoulder before you pulled your shirt back on. It’s a yellow flower, right?” Selena asked.
“It’s a weed,” Nash said over his laughter.
I rolled my eyes and reached for my beer. “Says the guy who knows nothing about flowers.”
“It’s a dandelion,” Cutler said proudly. “Uncle King told me so.”
Keeping something under wraps in this group was next to impossible. When I got the fucking tattoo, Saylor didn’t live here, and no one was the wiser. It was my thing.
Just for me.
Maybe a little for her.
I looked up, and my gaze locked with hers briefly just as Ruby led Cutler from the table and turned the sprinklers on for him. He was running around the yard in the water as we sat there sipping our drinks, and I wanted to change the subject.
“Anywho, it’s bee season, and we should all be aware,” I said.
“I think it’s very manly to be honest about your fears,” Selena said, and I internally groaned because that was like leading a horse to water. She lined that up perfectly for the guys.
“Are we talking about King’s fears?” Hayes said with a cocky grin. “He’s got three fears, and we all know what they are.”
“That doesn’t make you a genius, you dicksicle. I’ve been telling you what they are since we were kids.” I rolled my eyes but found it hard not to laugh.
“Well, not all of us know them. What are they?” Bobby asked, and he seemed a little too excited about hearing what they were, and I shot him a glare.
The guys were all laughing now because they loved to give me shit.
“There’s no shame in being fearful of things. I think we all are,” Saylor said in my defense.
Atta girl.
This girl always had my back, and I’d always have hers.
“Agreed. But King’s fears are not what you’d expect,” River said over his laughter.
“Bees are clearly number one.” Nash nodded confidently. “And I don’t fuck with bees either, so I get it.”
“And clowns, which is fair. They used to freak me out, too,” Romeo admitted.
“Dude. Have you seen that movie where the serial killer is a clown, and he’s worn the makeup for so long that it never washes off his face? It’s stained to look like a fucking killer clown for the rest of his life.” I shivered, and everyone laughed some more.
“I like clowns,” Coach said.
Of course, you do. You also like Speedos, so we aren’t going to trust your judgment.
“Good for you. I hope you don’t find yourself in a dark alley with a serial killer clown and invite him in for a beer.” I raised a brow.
“I’ll keep that in mind, mate. What’s the last one?”
I never hid who I was. I was the life of the party. A perpetual good time. I’d also throw down and fight for the people I loved. I’d fought dudes much larger than I was and walked away without a scratch. I worked hard to build my business, and I put in long hours.
But I didn’t hide the fact that there were three fucking things in this world that I did not care for.
Bees.
Clowns.
And…
“White vans. Our boy can spot a white van from a mile away,” River said.
“I drive a white van,” Coach said. “I haven’t used it much because I can walk everywhere in Magnolia Falls. Why don’t you like white vans?”
Boom.
There you go.
My work here is done.
If I had a mic, I’d be dropping it onstage right about now.
This fucker likes clowns and drives a white van.
Saylor’s head fell back in hysterical laughter, and everyone followed suit. It must have been the knowing look on my face.
Coach is clearly a serial killer.
“Are you going to tell me you have a part-time job as a beekeeper, and you have a clown suit hidden in your white van?”
“You’re hilarious, mate.” Coach chuckled.
I wasn’t fucking kidding. And he wasn’t fucking Australian.
“Uncle King, come and chase me!” Cutler called out from a few feet away, and I was on my feet and jogging toward him.
I ran into the water with him and scooped him up, bringing us both to the ground to wrestle. He was giggling, and he pushed me over so he was kneeling beside me and started tickling me.
I rolled onto my stomach and laughed, just as a sharp pain poked me in the groin.
It only took seconds to register what had happened.
I’d been stung by a motherfucking bee.
Hell hath no fury like a man under attack.