“Well, your Dad is wrong on this one. He has his own reasons for feeling the way he feels, but they have nothing to do with you.”
Joss reaches out and brushes June’s hair off her shoulder, then takes her by the hand.
“Those scars are a testament to what you’ve been through and survived, June. It’s evidence of what you’ve conquered. You’re so strong. Here and here.” Joss taps on June’s temple, then on her chest. “These scars aren’t ugly, June Bug. They’re armor.”
June looks from her mom to me, and I smile, hoping like hell the tears in my eyes don’t fall.
“Caballera,” I say softly.
Joss whips her head toward me, but I keep my eyes on June. The side of her mouth hitches up in a whisper of a smile.
“Caballera,” she repeats. We’re all quiet for a breath, then June’s face screws up. “Cole says girls can’t be knights.”
“Who the fuck is Cole?”
“Jesse,” Joss scolds, and I wince. Whoops. “Cole is a boy in her class,” she clarifies.
Ah, of course he is. Little twerp. I look June right in the eyes and hit her with some no-bullshit facts.
“You know how many guys there are in this world, June?”
“No.”
“Approximately 3,970,238,390. If this one can’t see you for what you’re worth, fuck ‘em. You don’t need him. He’s not special. You are.”
I hear Jocelyn choke on a laugh, but I don’t look away from June. She narrows her eyes at me and stares me down. Assessing, just like she did on the quad when she thought I’d let her win the race. I keep my face open, earnest.
“How do you know that number?” she finally asks, and I break out in a grin.
“Girl, I got a lot of shit in this head. Stick around for a while and I’ll share some more with you.”
When June smiles, it’s all white teeth and giant laughing eyes, and I feel like a million bucks.
“I promise you that no one down there is going to think your scars are ugly, Junie Balloony.” I say it with my whole fucking chest and mean every word.
June looks from me to her mom. “Can I bring my hoodie?” she asks, clutching it tightly.
“Yes, of course,” Jocelyn says immediately.
“Okay.”
Joss still has to change, so I head back downstairs to give them privacy. I gather stuff for s’mores while I wait, thankful that my parents are fucking awesome and always stock the pantry with the good shit.
I’m loading the s’more ingredients into a reusable shopping bag when Joss and June step in the kitchen. When I look up from the bag, all the air is sucked from my body and I have to legit force myself to close my mouth. I look like Roger Rabbit any time he sees Jessica. Eyes all bugged out, jaw on the floor, tongue lolling to the side.
But what the fuck.
Jocelyn is gorgeous, and I’m losing feeling in my legs from all the blood rushing to my cock. She’s a knockout in sweats, but right now? In a black and white polka dot swimsuit, in that vintage style with a sweetheart neckline and a little fucking bow right at the dip by her cleavage.
Fuck. She’s all hips and tits and the space at her waist where I know from experience my hands fit perfectly. It takes all my strength not to reach out and grab her.
I catch her smirking at me because, no doubt, she saw me gawking, so I don’t even try to hide it.
“M-I-L-F,” I mouth, and she turns bright red. I chuckle and shake my head, then turn to June, holding out the bag of s’mores stuff. “Here, June Bug. You’ll be the hero of the party if you walk up with this.” She rolls her eyes and fights a smile, but she takes the bag from me.
As we approach the pontoon, laughter and music float on the air, and I find myself growing stiff, on edge. Searching for my friends’ eyes, preparing to go on the defensive if necessary. But, once again, I find that my concerns were unwarranted.
No one even looks at June’s scars. No one asks. They treat her the same as they have been. The way June’s face brightens, and the way her laughter comes more freely, makes me love my friends even more than I did before. And I didn’t think that was possible.
When Bailey fits June for a life jacket and they all cannonball off the back of the pontoon into the lake, I do what I’ve been dying to do since this morning. Since weeks ago, to be honest. The desire to touch Jocelyn is constant, insistent. I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her into me.
“You have no idea the things you do to me just by existing, Classic,” I whisper into her ear, marveling at the goosebumps that pop up on her skin. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you.”
I expect her to gasp, to pull away, but instead, she pushes her ass into me, making me groan.
“Like what?” she rasps. When she tilts her head to the side, giving me the perfect view of her heaving chest and easy access to her throat, I pounce. I press an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, then suck, before moving back to her ear. The feelings I get when she’s near are addicting.
“Stay tonight.” I growl. Plead. We only have until August. “Stay tonight and let me show you.”