Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
And when he puts his mouth on me? Well, the logical part of my brain goes straight into sleep mode, leaving only this wild, wanton Lexi that I didn’t even know existed at the helm.
Blake Boden has changed me.
My ship is in uncharted waters with an untested captain in charge—who the hell knows where it’s going to take me now.
Friday, July 4th
Lexi
Just like Memorial Day weekend, Fourth of July at Uncle Brad and Aunt Paula’s lake house is always an extravaganza for the Winslow clan. Though, every year, it feels like we’re adding more and more people, and speaking from a purely square-footage perspective, that’s a miracle.
Everyone is scattered, some inside the house, some swimming in the lake, and some sitting on the deck outside. I pour a glass of my grandma Wendy’s famous lemonade into a glass, give her shoulder a friendly squeeze as I pass by her in the kitchen where she cuts up a watermelon, and head out the deck doors to take in the chaos.
All the Winslow family is here. My parents, my brother, all my aunts and uncles—both Winslow and Hayes—Helen, my grandma Wendy and her husband Howard, and all my cousins. Not to mention, my parents’ best friends Kline and Georgia and Thatch and Cassie, along with their sons and daughters Ace, Gunnar, Julia, and Evie.
Finn brought Scottie along, and Blake tagged along with Ace—just like he suggested he would two weeks ago—and since Cassie and Georgia both graduated from Dickson too, many years ago, and the guys are all football freaks, everyone has been thrilled with the addition.
If I don’t lie to myself, I am too.
Which is categorically insane, considering how much time we’ve been spending together and how strong-willed I’ve been about keeping us a secret. In this close of quarters, being as addicted to each other as we are, with this many eyes and ears everywhere, it’ll be the eighth wonder of the world if we don’t get caught.
As I look down at the lake, I take stock of everything. Looking outward is way easier than looking inward, as it were. Ace and Julia swimming side by side, and even from up here on the deck, the way he looks at her is unmistakable—like she’s the only person in the world. His smile is broader, brighter, and his focus on her is unrelenting, like she’s gravity itself, anchoring him in place.
Blake told me about the night out at Groove a few weeks ago, when Julia’s joke about being pregnant catapulted Ace straight into the big I’m-in-love-with-my-best-friend moment that we’ve all been silently waiting for one of them to have.
The problem? Ace hasn’t told Julia yet. Instead, he’s channeled all his energy into something completely Ace-like—overhauling his entire class schedule to match hers for the fall semester. Blake described it with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, shaking his head at Ace’s plan to ward off any loser who dares to talk to her.
Frankly, I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified to find out how their fall semester ends up turning out. It feels like it’s all going to come up roses or go down in a fiery inferno.
I watch Blake hop out of the water, onto the dock, and I bite my lip to hide my smile when he cannonballs back into the water, purposely splashing a wave of water toward Ace.
Blake resurfaces, laughter spilling from his lips, carefree and alive as he revels in the moment with his friends. Watching him like this, so unguarded and full of joy, I feel it again—that irresistible pull he has on me, one I can’t seem to fight, no matter how hard I try.
“You motherfucker!” Ace shouts as he shakes the water out of his hair and swipes a hand down his face. His mom, Cassie, sighs from her current spot on the deck, sitting at the table with my mom and Georgia.
“Is it too late to trade my kids in for new ones?” she asks, and my mom laughs.
“I think the statute of limitations is up on that, Cass.”
“The party can officially fucking start!” a booming voice yells from the deck door, startling everyone’s attention. Though, with who it is, I’d say that’s exactly as he intended it.
Thatch walks out holding a big box of fireworks and wearing nothing but aviator sunglasses and swim trunks that have a smiling bald eagle and the words Fuck Yeah on the crotch. His youngest son Gunnar is right behind him, wearing a matching pair of swim trunks and sporting a new haircut—a mullet straight out of Joe Dirt.
“Thatch, I swear, if this ends in us having to call the fire department because you and Jude set a canoe on fire, I will cut off your dick,” Cassie says.
“Have no fear, Sweet Tits.” Thatch winks and pulls a fire extinguisher out of the box. “I’ve come prepared.”