Wild Collision (Us 4)

“Little Hayes?” she snorts, shaking her head. “Surely you can come up with a better nickname than that?”

“Eh, I like it.”

“Done,” Fox announces.

“I need a beer first,” Rush blurts, looking around to order. “How the fuck do you place an order here? The computer? A waitress?”

“You’re asking us?” Kira laughs. “You brought us here.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “I’ll be back. No one take my turn. I’m winning.”

He eyes each of us before he heads off to ask someone.

“I’m first anyway.” Fox grabs a golf club and lines up to play.

I’ve never played golf on a golf course, or done anything like this, so I’m sure I’ll make a huge fool of myself.

Fox makes a big deal of testing his swing and God knows what else before he finally hits the damn ball. It soars up and away and when it lands it’s pretty fucking far away. He turns to us and bows. “That’s how it’s done.” He points at me. “Your turn.”

I stand and shake my head.

“Good luck,” Mia says with a smile. She sticks her tongue out slightly and rolls her eyes as if to say this is going to get crazy.

If I know my friends, which I do, it’s not going to be crazy—it’ll be insane.

We’re a competitive bunch.

I take my turn, cursing when the ball doesn’t get anywhere close to the distance of Fox’s. Fox chortles from the couch, clutching his stomach as he points and laughs.

“Asshole.” I give him a shove as I pass him on my way to sit on the opposite side.

“An asshole who’s going to beat you.”

Next up is Cannon who does as abysmally as me. I feel a little better to not be the only one who sucks at this.

Rush, now back from getting beer for everyone, comes the closest to Fox’s range, Kira squeals and barely hits the ball, and then it’s Mia’s turn.

She stands up, her jeans hugging her ass. She smiles at me over her shoulder and winks.

She grabs the golf club and stands to take her turn. She adjusts her stance, takes a few practice swings, and then hits the ball.

It goes up, up, up and—“I believe I’m winning now,” she says to Fox before taking a dramatic bow.

I sit, open-mouthed, wondering what I witnessed.

Mia plops down beside me and I turn accusing eyes in her direction. “You’ve done this before,” I state.

She shrugs. “I’m basically a pro at mini-golf.”

“This isn’t mini-golf.”

She laughs. “My dad golfs some—I was the only one of us kids to take an interest in it so when he went he’d usually take me. I got good at it.”

“How good?” I pry.

She presses her lips together to hold back her laughter as Fox takes his second turn, mumbling under his breath.

“I was the only girl on the golf team in high school.”