Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(5)

“What are you doing over here on the dock all by yourself?”

I shrugged, not really knowing how to reply.

There were times that I wanted to be by myself. Alone with my thoughts where I could just let go and be me, without worrying about anyone else.

Where I wasn’t just one of the good ol’ boys.

Of all the people I knew, Alex would understand. Sometimes I felt like we had that in common, the need to escape.

It made things easier for me.

“Why do you have a fishing pole if you’re not fishing?” She giggled, taking a seat next to me on the dock. “What are you writing in that notebook, Austin? You can’t be doing homework, you hate school.”

She leaned over to see and I casually closed it, picking up the fishing pole and casting it out in the water.

“Did you walk over here by yourself, Half-Pint?” I asked, changing the subject.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Austin. You’re nine, that’s only one year older than me and you walked over here by yourself,” she sassed, making me grin.

“Is that right?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Hey, I didn't say a word, but I’m a boy and you’re not. So there is that.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, giving me the signature Alex glare. There was no telling her she couldn’t do something just because she was a girl. If you did, she would prove you wrong the second you laid out the challenge. Her willpower to prove her point had gotten her in trouble more times than I could count, but it didn’t stop me from picking on her, mostly because I loved getting a rise out of her.

We all did.

Our eyes moved to the fishing pole when it jolted and arched.

“You got a bite! Reel it in, Austin!” she exclaimed as she bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands with excitement.

I did, jerking my body back every few seconds, reeling until the fish was out of the water, flapping around everywhere. I stood, laying the fishing pole down on the dock. Squatting down to grab its scaly body with one hand, I used my other to pull out the hook from its mouth.

“I bet I can catch a bigger fish than you,” Alex chimed in.

I grinned again, raising an eyebrow as I stood. “Oh yeah?”

She enthusiastically nodded.

“By all means, Half-Pint,” I challenged, handing her my pole.

She smiled, big and wide as she removed her Chucks. The same black ones us boys started wearing instead of the pink ones her mom begged her to buy. She took a dramatic deep breath before sitting back down with her legs dangling over the edge of the dock, her feet swimming in the water. The exact same way I’d been sitting.

I shook my head and smiled at the image. I watched with a curious gaze as she sat with the pole out in front of her, placed between her legs, her hand ready to reel in a big fish. Determination was written all over her face. She would beat me, even if it meant she would have to stay there all day trying. Something about the way she looked in that moment inspired me. Before I knew it I was opening my notebook, turning it to a fresh page. She didn’t pay me any mind, her attention focused solely on the task at hand.

I tried to capture how the lighting from the sun made the freckles on her nose more prominent and enticing. I watched as a few dark brown strands of her hair blew in the wind. The rest of it tied high on her head so she could fit in better with us. I watched the way she rubbed her lips against each other every few minutes, biting on her bottom one when she was done. How the boy clothes she was adamant about wearing fell off her thin, tiny frame, making her appear younger than she really was.

Nothing lasts forever.

There would come a time when she would shed the boy clothes, not wanting to look like one of us anymore. Blossoming before our very own eyes. Always wearing her long hair down with loose fitting dresses and flip-flops.

Still a tomboy at heart.

The scent of her sunscreen that I knew she put on every morning filled the air all around us. I smiled, enjoying this rare time alone with her. These memories were few and far between. I tried to capture every last detail of her, my hand running wild against the sheet of paper. Peering up at her every few seconds. She just had this natural beauty about her. I don’t know how much time went by. I was in my own little world, and I loved it when that happened. My mind would shut off for a little while, and I could live in the moment.

That didn’t happen very often.

Even at that young of an age.

I always felt older than I was. Even my thoughts were beyond my years, an old soul was what my mom called me. Maybe that’s why being the youngest got to me so much. Having to try and do everything first, proving to the other boys and myself that I wasn’t the last one. Regardless of how much bigger and older they were, I wasn’t going to be the one left behind. It didn’t stop them from trying to order me around, and as we got older, I’d tell them where they could shove it.

Putting an even bigger rift among our friendship, to the point that I no longer called them my brothers. My best friends.

Except with Alex.

Never with her.

She was what held all of us good ol’ boys together, had been since she was born.

I continued to get lost in her, my hand not stopping for one single second. I could see her frustration growing with each passing minute. Not wanting to accept that defeat may be the inevitable, until finally she got a bite. Her face lit up and her body jerked forward from the force. She jumped to her feet for more leverage. I didn’t stop drawing, I couldn’t.