Page 31 of Good Directions

“Nothing!” they both exclaim in unison.

And I’m the bad liar…ha…

“Right, because that doesn’t sound like trouble,” Willa snarks.

“You have absolutely no room to talk,” Dolly claps back.

I glance over at the three of them—all friends, and almost sisters thanks to their relationships—the bond between them clear. It’s plain as day, even to me as an outsider, that these ladies have each other’s backs. In the way that only girlfriends can.

“Sawyer, care to join us?” Dolly asks.

Her question catches me off guard. Not only because I don’t know what they are doing, but I have no idea why she would be asking me.

“I…err…ummm…no?”

I really need to work on answering better.

“Come join us; it’ll be fun!” Brenna tacks on. “Because I have a feeling that this”—she nods toward the guys lining up at the rope—“is just the start.”

What on earth are they doing?

“Now I really don’t want to know,” Willa mutters.

As if he heard his sister’s comment, Anton turns around, his eyes landing on our group. My heart stops. His baby-blue eyes look at me, making me feel like I just walked out into the sun for the first time in a year. His sun-kissed arms shimmer in the sun, straining under his T-shirt, and once again, he looks much better than anyone, ever, has any business looking.

Don’t come over…don’t come over…

A whistle blows, catching everyone’s attention. Phew…I’m safe. They’re lining up.

Still, I can’t take my eyes off him, my heart in my throat. Anton must know this too, because he gives me one last glance before turning to the matter at hand. And winks.

“I saw that…” Dolly whispers.

“Nothing to see,” I whisper back.

Except, there was. Because Anton Hayes just winked at me. What the fuck?

A middle-aged gentleman stands to the side of the rope, straddling the orange flag, looking back and forth between the two teams as he explains the rules. Neither group of men seems to be paying a whole lot of attention as the crowd around us grows. Apparently the Nobles vs. the Hayes is the big show of the day.

“Let’s keep it clean. Got it, boys?” the ref says.

All fourteen of them nod, and Gus Hayes and the one I’m pretty sure Dolly said was Atlas Noble shake hands before finding their spots in line.

“I’ve watched this match every summer of my life, and I don’t know that my stomach has ever been in this many knots,” Dolly says, grabbing on to my hand.

“It’s different being a girlfriend,” Brenna adds.

Dolly nods, the three of us watching intently as Hux secures the end loop of rope around his waist as the anchor. He sees us and blows Dolly a kiss. My heart squeezes, the two of them too cute for words.

The whistle blows, and a series of loud grunts fills the air as all fourteen men latch onto the rope and pull. No, yank. Hard.

My eyes immediately fly to Anton. He’s laser focused, his Popeye-like muscles popping and flexing as the rest of him contorts in time with his brothers, trying to draw his opponents over the line. Every single line on his body moves like it’s a piece of music, perfectly in time with each other, making it impossible to look away.

If he was too good-looking for his own good before, well, this is a whole new line we just crossed.

One that is making my mouth water and the rest of me ache to know what it would be like to be that rope. To have him hold on to me that tightly. To know if the sweat dripping down his neck was from the hot summer sun or something else.

I need to stop.