Free Butternut Summer by Mary McNear Page B

blond hair, and laughing exaggeratedly at whatever they were saying. Will looked away, but Jason was fascinated by her performance.
    â€œShe keeps looking over here, Will. I think she’s trying to make you jealous.”
    â€œIt’s not working,” Will mumbled into his beer.
    â€œOkay, she just walked away from those two guys. One of them, by the way, looks like he’s about to cry in his beer. I think he thought he was gonna get lucky. Let’s see, what’s she doing now. She’s walkin’ over to the jukebox, she’s puttin’ some quarters in—”
    â€œHey, Jason,” Will broke in. “I don’t need the play by play.”
    Jason shrugged and was silent for a few minutes, but then Will heard him whistle softly under his breath. “Will, you have got to see this,” he said.
    Will glanced over to where the jukebox was and saw that Christy was dancing, suggestively, by herself. Even Will couldn’t quite bring himself to look away, which meant he was in good company, since by now the whole rest of the bar was staring at her too.
    She was dressed tonight in a tiny, vintage rock concert tee, denim cutoffs that were so short the linings of the pockets peeked out from beneath their fashionably ragged hems, and high-heeled wedge sandals that made her long suntanned legs look even longer. Her arms were above her head, her head was thrown back, and her eyes were closed, as she swayed and swiveled to an ’80s rock anthem that everyone in the bar knew by heart.
    â€œWill, seriously, just go with her already ,” Jason said. “I can’t take much more of this.”
    â€œYeah, well, you’re pathetic,” Will said, making a point of staring into his beer.
    â€œI’m not pathetic,” Jason said, unperturbed. “It’s just . . . her legs, Will. What’s up with them? Seriously. How does she get them so shiny?”
    Baby oil , Will almost said. This was true. He knew for a fact that Christy rubbed it into her legs to make them softer and smoother because he’d seen her do it on more than one occasion. But he didn’t tell Jason this; he’d never hear the end of it if he did.
    â€œYou know what?” he said suddenly, taking out his wallet and throwing some money on the bar. “Let’s go.”
    â€œGo?” Jason objected. “The show’s just getting started.”
    â€œWell, it’s over for us,” Will said, sliding off his bar stool.
    â€œWill, I haven’t even finished my beer yet.”
    â€œWe’ll stop and buy a six-pack,” Will said. “Then we’ll go back to the garage and play some darts, and I’ll try really hard not to beat you.”
    â€œOkay,” Jason said reluctantly, taking a final swig of his beer and giving Christy one last look. “But you’re paying for the beer.”
    A n hour later they were back at the garage. They’d finished their dart game, and they were sitting outside in a couple of beat-up old lawn chairs, drinking beer.
    â€œI thought you said you were going to let me beat you at darts,” Jason said, a little sulkily.
    â€œDid I say that?”
    â€œYep,” Jason said, reaching into the cooler between them and grabbing another can of beer. “You said that, Will.” But Will could see he’d already forgotten about it. This was why he could spend as much time with the guy as he did; Jason was the most easygoing person Will had ever met.
    Jason started to open his can of beer, then changed his mind and held it up against his forehead instead. Even now, with a decent breeze finally blowing, it was still at least ninety degrees outside.
    â€œBy the way, you were right about that girl,” Jason said, taking the beer can away from his face and popping it open.
    â€œWhich girl?”
    â€œThat girl from today. Daisy. She called right before closing to see if her cell phone was here. I said it