Sidecar Crush

“Come on, we got this,” Scarlett shouted, just ahead of us.

“Not happening, Scarlett Rose,” I said, and Leah Mae and I made a break for the dock.

We side-galloped our way down to the water and onto the wood slats of the dock. Scarlett and Dev were right here with us. Leah Mae had the height—and leg length—advantage on Scarlett, and just as we got to the edge, we overtook them.

Without a care for how we were going to manage to avoid drowning while tied together at the waist, I launched us off the end of the dock.

We plunged into the warm water feet first. Leah Mae kept her arms around my shoulders, and we both kicked. Our heads broke the surface and we came up laughing.

“Did we win?” she asked.

“I have no idea.” I wanted to hold onto her, but I had to tread water for both of us.

Water dripped down her face, glinting in the sunlight. I had to look away because what I really wanted to do was kiss her. We were wet and smiling. Breathing a little hard. It was a perfect moment for kissing. Or would have been, if things had been different.

But things weren’t different. Leah Mae was someone else’s girl, not mine. I wasn’t the sort to violate that. She wasn’t mine to kiss, no matter how much I wanted to.

“We should get over to the beach,” I said.

Technically, I think we could have untied ourselves at that point, since the race was over, but it would have been tough in the water. So we swam sideways, mostly using our feet to propel us toward the shoreline. It was awkward getting out, but we managed. Once we were back on land, we got the rope undone.

Scarlett came over, dripping wet, and high-fived us. “Well done. You two make a good team. But we still won.”

I was going to let her have it, but Leah Mae piped up, a smile on her lips. “Yep, y’all won second place.”

Scarlett laughed and met my eyes. “I knew I liked her.” She pointed at Leah Mae. “Rematch next year, Larkin.”

“You’re on, Bodine.”

Scarlett walked up the beach with Dev while Leah Mae and I shook some of the water off our clothes. The jump in the lake had washed the mud off. Mostly I tried to keep my shirt covering my manly parts, considering my dick was trying to cause a scene. But the feel of Leah Mae’s body against mine was not one I could forget.

11

LEAH MAE

Dusk settled over Bootleg springs, and the bang and pop of fireworks filled the air. People had been lighting things off for most of the day, but as the darkness grew, the fireworks increased. Kids ran around the beach waving sparklers, grown-ups launched bottle rockets out of beer bottles in their hands. Bigger fireworks went off with loud bangs over the lake, the sparks reflecting on the still water.

Jameson and I sat on a blanket on the beach, watching. Our clothes had dried in the afternoon sun, and we’d gone back to the park for our shoes. Then we’d stopped for hot dogs with coleslaw. We’d bought extra for my dad and Betsy, and run the food out to his place. I’d been happy to see Dad in a good mood, despite missing out on the festivities. When I’d offered to stay, or at least come back in time for dinner, Betsy had said she’d stick around for the rest of the day. They’d be able to see some of the fireworks from the porch. I was so grateful to her for keeping him company.

We’d come back to town and gotten our first cups of moonshine. Jameson was on his third, but he didn’t seem drunk at all. I felt tipsy after just two—even sipped slow—but I didn’t drink that often, and Bootleg Springs moonshine was no joke.

A big firework exploded over the lake to oohs and ahhs of the crowd around us. A big guy with no shirt, a hairy chest, and a beer belly barely contained by his denim overalls went running by, waving an American flag. I glanced over at Jameson and he grinned at me.

“You need another drink?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I think this is plenty.”

“Fair enough. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Jameson’s brother Gibson came over carrying a shopping bag. “Come on, Jame, it’s time.”

“For what?” Jameson asked.

“You know.” The corner of Gibson’s mouth hooked in a grin. A rare expression from the oldest Bodine, at least in my experience. Jameson’s brother always seemed so surly.