I roll my eyes, turning my attention to Jake. “Give it to me.”
He passes it to Kaleb who takes it and barely glances at it before handing it to Noah.
“Now,” I grit through my teeth, trying to keep our banter down. I only meant to brag about how I’ve worn less in public than I am tonight when Jake got snippy about my backless dress again at dinner. I didn’t want them gawking at me in my bra, though. In public.
Glasses and silverware clank in the rustic old restaurant, and the smell of barbecue sauce and French fries fills the air, making my nose sting from time to time.
The steak was overcooked, the Coke is watered down, and the floor is so greasy, I can spell my name on it with the heel of my shoe.
But I wouldn’t have anything different for my eighteenth birthday. I’ve had more fun already tonight than I did in all my past birthdays combined.
Noah hands the phone back to me, and I take it, turning it off and sticking it under my thigh, so they can’t get it again.
“So, what do you say?” he asks. “Wanna look sexy like that on our website?”
“Shut up.”
I tuck my chair back in and take a sip of my soda.
“It’s a really good idea,” Noah argues, turning to his father. “That’s what we’re missing in our marketing. Something pretty.”
“Noah, Jesus…” Jake shifts uncomfortably in his chair and lifts his bottle to his lips.
“No, seriously,” he continues. “Look at all the other sites. All the shows and expos we go to. What do they all have in common? Hot girls. We could get a photographer up at the house and do a photo shoot of her on the bikes. It’ll be great.”
“It’ll be snowing by morning,” Jake says. “No photographers are getting up the mountain.” He shoots his eyes to me. “And no one’s getting down.”
I pause, a shiver almost running through me as I hold my uncle’s eyes. I’m not sure if I see a warning or a challenge there in regard to the months ahead, but I raise my glass in a cheers, ready for whatever.
Jake grins, raising his beer and Noah follows, all of us clanking our glass together. Kaleb eats his meal.
“Besides,” Jake adds, setting his beer down, “we may never see her again after the spring anyway. Not sure we want to add her to the letterhead quite yet.”
I shake my head, knowing he wouldn’t mind if I stayed forever and would love the assurance right now that I will.
I love being wanted.
But college looms. I’ll need to make decisions soon.
Noah looks at me. “You won’t leave us, will you?”
I laugh, unsure how to answer that.
Instead, I just tip my chin at my uncle. “May I have a non-virgin beer for my birthday?”
He knows full well I’m taking advantage of the allowance in this state that anyone under twenty-one can drink on private property, as long as they’re under parental supervision.
So let’s go home to private property, so I can do that.
But Jake has different plans.
“Let’s go into the bar,” he says.
My eyes widen. And I’m out of my chair before any of them.
Noah, Kaleb, and I head out of the restaurant while Jake pays the bill, and Noah takes my hand as we trail down a long hallway, entering the noise-ridden saloon that’s connected to the restaurant. Country music plays on the jukebox, and I crunch peanut shells under my shoes as we walk under the dim lights and past the pool tables and bar stools.
Eyes immediately turn in our direction as people huddle in small groups and the music blares. I suddenly feel overdressed like Jake suggested.
A few interested pairs of eyes floated up and down my attire as we sat down in the restaurant earlier, because I haven’t met many people in town, and they probably wondered who I was, but now… my skin warms under their gazes, and I clutch Noah’s hand, a little uncomfortable. The place is filled with T-shirts, jeans, and beards, and who’s the moron coming in here dressed for a cocktail party in Malibu?
I meet several pairs of eyes as we pass tables of people drinking and smoking.
Kaleb tosses some money on the bar and gestures to all of us at the bartender, but the guy cocks his head, eyeing me with suspicion.
“It’s okay, Mike,” I hear my uncle suddenly say behind me.
I turn around, seeing him give the guy a smile, and that seems to do it, because the bartender nods and reaches down to pull four Buds out of the cooler, popping the tops for all of us.
“Let’s go.” Noah nudges my arm.