Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
At the woman’s blank face, I say, “You can call him Hayes two-point-oh. He basically wants to be me anyway.”
Her lips quirk, and she holds eye contact a little too long before she grabs Kosik’s golf balls and the keys to the golf carts Ezra insists we need.
He’s less than friendly as he collects it and steers me outside while Diedrich pays.
His pouty face is pouty.
I poke his cheek. “Are you sulking?”
“She thought you were hot.”
“And?”
“And? You’re mine.”
That word hits me with a surge of satisfaction. Whenever I say it, it’s on a sexual level. I own his body and all the ways to make him feel good, but there’s something in his tone that covers more than that, and I love it.
“Ez …” I soften my voice. “I’m gay.”
“I know that. But if you were anyone else, I would have walked right up and claimed you.” He tosses me a key. “She got lucky.”
I frown. Not because I object, but because that’s his I’m pretending to joke but am actually serious voice. Is that what he wants? I’ve given him the acknowledgment and friendship he wanted, but claiming is a whole other step. A big one. That’s relationship levels. I’m not sure what to think about that.
The little pang hits me again, leaving an echo that sounds suspiciously like “liar” behind.
I shake it off and point to the closest cart. “This one is mine.”
“Deal.”
We climb into our carts as soon as Kosik joins me—after pointing out how much he hates us both—and Diedrich joins Ezra. From the drive to the first hole, our egos take over.
We race to see who can get there the quickest. We’re both determined to make the best score on the first hole, and then we compete for the first hole-in-one. Every time we make a hole under par, we’re quick to goad the other, and it reaches a point where I barely register Diedrich and Kosik are still with us. They’re in their world; Ez and I are in ours.
“Race you to the ninth,” Ezra says the second Diedrich makes his shot, and the four of us break into a run.
Kosik and I all but jump into our cart, and then I turn it over and put my foot down. These things gain speed for something so small.
We’re tearing across the perfectly manicured turf, pushing the fifteen-miles-an-hour limit to its max and probably breaking about a hundred of the country club rules, but fuck if any of us care.
It’s been a long, long time since I switched off and had fun like this.
Kosik’s laughing and white-knuckling the handgrip as we round the small crop of trees toward the ninth and head downhill. The small bumps in the terrain jolt us in our seats, and I can feel the cart starting to become unstable. Reluctantly, I ease up on the accelerator, and Ezra and Diedrich start to pull ahead, until—
“Ez!”
He sees the pond a second after me and hits the brakes. The back end kicks up, and it’s like slow motion as Ezra and Diedrich jump from the cart as it flips. It tumbles downhill and hits the pond with a massive splash.
The sound of the water is still ringing in my ears as I bring the golf cart to a stop beside them. The four of us are silent for a second as we stare at the mess.
“Fuck …” Diedrich hisses.
“You both okay?” I ask.
Ezra nods, but Diedrich shakes his head.
“You’re hurt?”
“I will be. My wife is going to kill me if I get us kicked out of the club.”
I smirk. “Not the pain I was talking about.”
“If it helps,” Ezra says, “I’ll make sure your funeral is awesome. Lots of tears and sappy stories.”
“I think the only thing that’s going to help is us going back in time and not being dickheads,” Diedrich answers.
I hum in agreement.
“The tabloids are gonna love this,” Kosik says.
My back tenses painfully, and Ezra’s gaze shoots to mine.
I lick my lips. “Nothing none of us haven’t dealt with before.” I sound way more confident than I feel, but thanks to Ezra, I’ve been in the tabloids more this season than any other. I take a deep breath and remind myself I can get through this.
“Okay, plan,” Ezra says. “I’ll offer to buy them two golf carts to replace this one.”
“We all will,” I cut in, because this wasn’t all on Ezra. “We’ll split the costs.”
The others quickly agree.
“Sweet, so we’ll replace the carts under the provision they keep this quiet.”
“And I get to keep my membership,” Diedrich adds.
“Yeah, sure.” Ezra waves him off. “One last thing though.”
I wait for him to continue.
“We all agree not to tell Coach.” He grimaces. “This is the last thing I need for him to hold against me.”
To my surprise, I actually laugh.
Sure, the knot of anxiety is there over the idea that this will get out, but no one got hurt, and we were having fun until right now.