Fall (Seaside 4)

I smiled. “Comes with the territory. Does that bother you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I just don’t really care for arrogant pricks with fake accents. Plus his last movie blew.”

“His accent isn’t fake.” Right, that’s how I go about defending him? I didn’t want to admit that his last movie was my favorite.

“Whatever, let’s not talk about him.” Smith gripped the steering wheel, so hard his knuckles turned white. “So I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“We should hang out.”

“You mean when there isn’t a fire, right?” I teased.

“Yeah.” His gleaming smile made my stomach flip as we came to a stoplight and he turned his full attention to me. “How about dinner?”

“I—” Why wasn’t I jumping at the opportunity? “Just dinner?”

“Yes.” He gave me a lazy smile. “That is unless you would rather have lunch, I mean, lunch is cool too.”

“Stop teasing me.” I looked away as he shifted the car into gear again.

“Why stop?” He pulled to the next stoplight and reached for my hand. “When you’re so much fun to tease?” He leaned across the console.

Someone honked behind us.

I turned around and saw Jaymeson wave wildly into the air.

“Shit! Is he following us?” Smith looked in the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes.

“Doubtful.” I sighed. “He has more important things to do.” Like find another girl to screw.

“Right.”

The truck pulled into the church parking lot. The good news was I only had a day’s worth of donations to organize and then I would be done with the entire drive!

“You need help today?” Smith asked turning off the truck. “I can come in on my lunch hour.”

“Nah, the Chamber’s sending a volunteer. We’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I uh, I’ll call you later tonight?”

“I’d like that.”

His smile was huge as he jumped back into the truck and took off.

“I’d like that,” a voice said behind me, mimicking what I’d just said.

Slowly, I turned.

There was Jaymeson, in all his glory. “Hi, I’m the hot volunteer. Make me your slave.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor, right?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me toward the church. “Best. Day. Ever.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jaymeson

Priscilla rolled her eyes and unlocked the front doors to the church. She held the door open, waiting for me to walk through.

I froze.

“You coming?” she asked in an irritated voice.

“Sure.” I stood still. “Just… preparing myself.”

“For what?”

“Judgment day.”

Priscilla let out a heavy sigh. “God doesn’t smite whores. If He did, you’d already be dead.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me through the door.

I would be lying if I said I actually kept my eyes open. Instead, I squeezed them shut and waited for lightning to strike.

“See?” She released my hand. “You’re in one piece!”

A light fixture chose that exact moment to fall onto my head.

Priscilla screamed and stumbled backward.

“Holy shit!” I jumped out of the way and pressed my body against Priscilla’s, slamming us against the wall.

My heart damn near burst free from my chest as I hovered over her, still trying to figure out if that was a sign or just an unfortunate coincidence.

“You gonna be okay?” she whispered softly, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Damn, I wanted to bite those lips again. Correction, I wanted to bruise them with mine.

“Yeah.” My voice was hoarse, forced. “Californians… you know how we are with earthquakes.”

“Earthquake my ass.” She laughed.

My eyes widened. “Sinner. You just said ass in church.”

“You said shit and you’ve slept with at least half your Twitter followers. Pretty sure if there’s a choice of who goes to Hell the scale’s going to tip toward you, my friend.”

“Think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Hilarious.” She stepped out from underneath my body and started walking briskly down the hall. “Come along, slave, we have work to do.”

“When you say work, you mean—”

“I mean we have boxes to organize.”

“Allow me a moment to reign in my excitement.” I paused for a minute and then lifted my hand in a lame fist pump. “I can’t wait.”

“I knew you’d be excited,” she called from up ahead. “Now keep up.”

“It’s not a race,” I grumbled under my breath as I jogged after her.

****

When the girl said she had boxes to organize, I’d somehow thought it would be ten.

Not thirty.

The boxes ranged from diapers to shoes to clothes to books. And each one of them needed to be labeled and organized for The Goodwill.

After box ten I announced, “I’m bored.”

“Because you’re not drinking and having sex?” Pris fired back without looking at me.

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes and taped the box shut. “Because it’s humanly possible to have sex twenty-four seven while drinking.”