She giggles before posing for a selfie with one of her closest friends and doing a shimmy for the camera that makes her tits bounce and I squeeze my eyes shut before pulling my beer to my lips and taking a long sip. Our eyes meet briefly and mine widen before I realize that she can’t tell that I’m staring right at her behind my dark lenses. She probably thinks I’m staring at one of her newly turned eighteen year old friends. All of whom have been trying to get my attention since we boarded the boat.

I turn my head, to stare off into the lake for a moment, just enough time for Gabrielle to take her eyes away from my direction and I can go back to shamelessly ogling her. My God, when did she get so beautiful?

I take another sip of my beer, an IPA with a ten percent alcohol by volume and a ninety percent chance of making a stupid decision as Luke comes up from below deck with a bottle of whiskey. “Want a shot?”

“Oh, we do!” Gabrielle comes skipping over towards me with two friends in tow and before I can even make a move, Gabrielle links her arm with mine.

“Maybe no whiskey for you since you’re drinking tequila?” I say having seen her just take a shot. “Mixing isn’t always the best idea for you, Gab.”

“Don’t be such a wet blanket, it’s her birthday!” one of her friends chirps. Probably the same friend that introduced her to weed for the first time. I was pissed over that. Not that she did it, but that she did it for the first time when she snuck out to go to some random college party at UConn. She called me high as fuck at four in the morning practically hysterical because there weren’t any Doritos in the house.

“Gabrielle.” I lower my sunglasses to look at her and instantly regret it because when our eyes lock for a moment it feels as if time stops. My chest tightens, my heart pounds against my ribcage and my dick hardens in my shorts as she gives me a smile that makes her dimples show and bats her eyelashes at me. Her lashes tapping her smooth cheeks in rapid succession.

“James,” she says, “come on, J. Take a shot with me.” She juts out her bottom lip. I curl my hand around the bottle tighter as I try to ball my hand into a fist to prevent myself from rubbing my thumb along her pouty lip.