June has only one more summer before she marries her high school sweetheart. She intends to make the most of it, but she has no idea what is waiting for her in Dolphin Coast. Socks on the Beach is a tale of steamy love, jaw-dropping heartbreak, and...
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"I like the hair, by the way. It's hot," Moose mused unenthusiastically between sips of a local craft beer with a green and purple can. His lips smacked.
"Thanks, me too," I hummed, batting my eyes and suppressing a gag when beer breath fanned over my face. Warm and yeasty. It was contagious and alive.
We were on an itchy pale brown couch, made of an unknown fabric and the cushions were splattered with stains from years past. My LuLuLemon leggings screamed in fear, but I tried to keep it to myself; I was hoping that my 'judgmental bitch' days were behind me, frankly. Behind our heads was a watercolor portrait of Marilyn Monroe and a shelf for a glass-enclosed plastic skeleton on a stripper pole, surrounded by shadow boxed pinned bats and bugs.
I was growing accustomed to the abnormal by now and I barely even noticed the mysterious stains creeping up the flowery wallpaper from the water-damaged floor. It smelled like dust bunnies and weed and I was beginning to doubt spending the next nearly twenty-four hours at Moose and Benji's, but Sam couldn't pick me up until after work tomorrow, and I didn't want to burden her with an emergency rescue mission.
"So, uh. Wanna smoke?"
"Works for me!" I piped. My voice sounded higher than normal. Nervous.
The orange-toned wooden coffee table had a drawer at its center, with a sturdy ornate handle, heavy and cool in the hand, and at Moose's urging I gave it a tug open. Inside, I found the holy grail. Eight tiny Tupperware containers were in four compact stacks: six green filled and two white. I lifted a white one and Moose nodded reassuringly as I popped the lid off. Shrooms. Blue-stained white stems and caps, waiting to change someone's life. I smiled.
"Benji said that you had a pretty good time," he said flatly. I felt very small next to him, and his great big thighs and chest. He loomed next to me on the tacky couch.
"I did, yeah. I had a great time."
"Would you wanna tonight? I can ask Benji to sit for us after he gets back from his deal," Moose offered.
He's on a drug deal right now? Crazy.
"I'd be down sometime, but probably not tonight. Sorry. I just need to take some time before more brain fuckery," I admitted, giggling.
"Fair, fair. Get to know me first. Safe, smart. I like it," he admitted with a wink as I resealed the lid and set the container back down with the heavy ping of glass on glass. I selected a green one and pulled out a fresh bowl.
Even Moose keeps his glassware cleaner than I do... I need to do better.
As I prepared a bowl for us, Moose plucked on an acoustic guitar, clearly showing off but pretending not to. I liked watching his big hands move so I snuck peaks. He had quick fingers for someone so big and lumbering, and I was looking forward to feeling them against my skin later. To feeling the nape of his neck, warm and curly haired, with the palm of my hand again. To feeling again.
