— exclusive to willowglenhq . penned by lola — 30 . pst .
ꕤ 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒉𝗰𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 — 27 . biotech researcher . jessica alexander . ꕤ 𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒄𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗿𝗮 — 32 . left wing , dallas lone stars . emilio sakraya .
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— exclusive to willowglenhq . penned by lola — 30 . pst .
ꕤ 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒉𝗰𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 — 27 . biotech researcher . jessica alexander . ꕤ 𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒄𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗿𝗮 — 32 . left wing , dallas lone stars . emilio sakraya .
something about dominic had always felt different to bonnie. maybe it was because , beneath all the anger and hostility and sharp edges , she saw something in him that he stubbornly refused to see in himself. potential. real , undeniable , franchise-changing potential. if he could just get out of his own goddamn way — if he could get past whatever this self-destructive bullshit was — he could be great. not just good. great. the face of the dallas lone stars. the kind of player kids begged their parents for jerseys of. bonnie believed that with every fiber of her being. the problem was dominic seemed hellbent on proving her wrong. stressed was not a strong enough word for what she felt right now. " you do know , " she corrected , her eyes lifting to meet his. " that's the problem. you're lying to me , and somehow you think i'm just going to shrug my shoulders and walk away. "
she let out a sharp , frustrated laugh. “ newsflash , dom , i'm not one of your teammates and this isn't the fucking locker room. i'm your gm. that means when something's wrong with one of my players , it's my problem whether you like it or not. ” his jab earned an exasperated sigh. “ don't look at the ceiling. look at me when you say that shit. ” her shoulders stiffened as she took a step closer. “ yeah , you want to be tough ? then don't be a bitch about it. ” of course she pushed. bonnie always pushed. it was who she was. sometimes too hard. sometimes far past the point where she should have stopped. but she had never known how to care quietly. " fucking go then ! " she snapped , throwing a hand toward the tunnel leading back to the locker room. “ go hide in there ! slam a few lockers , punch a wall , brood dramatically—whatever it is you do. ” her voice cracked with frustration. “ but don't stand here and act like none of this matters when everyone can see you're drowning. ” bonnie crossed her arms tightly over her chest. " because i am getting really fucking tired of caring more about your future than you do. "
his eyes skip across the ceiling tiles, counting them. something to focus on besides the frustration threatening to spill out onto bonnie. she's the general manager now, after all. powerful. maybe that's a good thing, maybe she'll finally decide he's too much trouble and trade him somewhere else. anywhere would do. she doesn't understand—nobody does, not when he's spent months swallowing every gripe and fear. decades poured into a sport that keeps demanding more, only to leave him feeling like a washed-up wunderkind still chasing the one thing that's starting to feel impossible.
" why don't you build a better team, then ? " dom snaps. " isn't that your job, gm ? why waste your energy on me when you should be helping us win ? why does it feel like i'm the only one who gives a fuck about winning ? " the uncontrollable temper he's become famous for buzzes beneath the surface, arms raise to clasp hands frustrated behind his head, staring down at bonnie angrily.
" my future, " he echoes with a humorless laugh, turning away from bonnie, " that's funny ... i'm not twenty. " the silence hangs before he continues, quieter now. " every year there's another kid drafted who's faster, sharper, more excited. every year the league gets younger. " his hands drop from the back of his head only to spread helplessly at his sides. " i've given this game everything i have—my body, my time, every relationship i've ever fucked up because hockey came first—and i still haven't won a goddamn thing. "
dom turns back to her, finds her gaze. " so yeah, maybe i am pissed off. because what the hell am i supposed to do here ? you act like i've got this huge future ahead of me. " he scoffs, expression twists somewhere between anger and exhaustion. "what future, bonnie ? the one where everybody talks about how i was supposed to be one of the greats ? my potential ... " he pauses a moment. " potential doesn't mean shit when it doesn't amount to anything. " he sighs, suddenly feeling every bit as exhausted as she accused him of being. " you wanna know why i'm pissed off all the time ? ... because i feel like this might be it. that i've spent my whole life chasing something i'm never gonna catch. just a big fucking waste of time. "
he let out a loud laugh, almost choking on his drink as she spiraled into yet another completely unhinged hypothetical. "first off," he points his finger at her, trying and failing to look completely serious, "you've got way too much confidence in my ability to pull off a wet t-shirt contest. you make it sound like i'd step out looking like some romance novel cover." his hand lifts and runs through his curls, smirking. "i mean.. the hair does get all wet and drippy, so maybe you're onto something here.." his shoulders lift in an exaggerated shrug before he laughed again. her rant about her double d's earned another snort. "nah, you'd be totally insufferable.. like absolutely impossible t be around, every sentence would start with, 'as someone with huge tits...' doesn't even matter what we're talking about. car won't start? 'probably because my boobs threw off the balance.' missed happy hour? 'the bartender was intimidated by the girls.'" he grinned, nudging her shoulder lightly. "and for the record? you already don't shut up." he chuckles. “you think bigger tits are going to change that?”
savannah's gaze skips down his frame. " you're acting like i'm the delusional one here. " she gestures vaguely over his physique. " are you trying to tell me that if you walked out there with the whole wet curls, white t-shirt, glistening skin, sunlight hitting you just right, people wouldn't lose their minds ? " she stares at him, as though anticipating argument. a hand flies to her chest, mustering the most offended gasp she can. " um—excuse me ? i am a delight to be around. ask literally anybody. " she doesn't give him nearly enough time to argue before she's barreling onward. " i don't shut up because i have very important things to say. someone has to carry a conversation ! do you know how many bad conversationalists are out there ? too many, malik ! too many ... " she looks down at her chest, reaches into her shirt to readjust the girls to optimize perkiness. " no, you're right, i'd milk it for at least a couple months." she glances up at him. " but imagine if you woke up with the world's hottest muscles ? don't act like you'd be humble either. i bet you'd complain about the attention but secretly love it ... "
status : open for all ! location : later in the evening — the wet t - shirt contest !
water clings to august's skin, a bit chilly as the sun begins to set. " i can't believe i let you talk me into that. " there's no malice in his tone, instead a slightly goofy grin spreading on the firefighter's features. shirt clings to his frame, soaked through and through, picking up a nearby towel to help rid himself of some of the wetness still lingering on his skin. " i got second place so i guess it's not too bad, right ? do you think i should've hit the gym a little harder ? " his gaze shifts. " be honest. "
pearlescent teeth beam at the dripping man, hands clasped giddily under her chin. " oh, boo hoo ! it was for the good of the people. you probably boosted town morale today. " she speaks from experience, knows that watching a buff firefighter who saves people for a living show off on stage at least boosted her spirits. " second isn't bad at all ! i think it was rigged, anyway. " asking her opinion, savannah gladly scans his frame. nodding, a thoughtful look, " you really want me to be honest ? you might not like what i have to say ... " solemn words despite the exhilarated ambience.
♡ EMILIO SAKRAYA via instagram ( emilio_sakraya_ )
bonnie scoffed , rolling her eyes dramatically. " well , those things are important. within the team , i mean. respecting each other , spending quality time together. if you aren't together off the ice , how are you supposed to be together on the ice ? blah blah blah … " she waved her hand dismissively before laughing. “ whatever. we're at a block party. i'm off the clock. ” she shook her head quickly. " i didn't say you don't care about the team. i just. .." she paused , expression softening for a moment. " sometimes it doesn't come out right , okay ? " admitting fault had never come naturally to bonnie , and this whole general manager thing was proving to be a lot harder than she'd ever imagined.
" tits ? " she repeated with an exaggerated sigh. " okay , like , one tit and maybe the top half. not full breast. you know ? " she dissolved into a fit of giggles at her own explanation. " no , but seriously , " she continued , pointing a finger at him. “ if you want to sign tits , do it after curfew so i have plausible deniability. ” her brows waggled mischievously. " you're gonna do the wet t-shirt contest , right ? "
dom catches the brief softening in her expression before she buries it beneath another joke. for a second, guilt tugs in his chest for having been unkind when he knows she has a lot on her plate as is. he's sure he'll only add more to it over the season. " yeah ? " he shrugs. " well ... for what it's worth, i know you're trying. " another pause, just long enough to acknowledge it before he inevitably ruins the moment. " don't let it go to your head, though. "
his bark of laughter comes almost immediately at her clarification. " the top half ? and does anyone even use the word ' breast ' anymore ? " he repeats, incredulous. he wants to say something about the association not seeing the distinction she makes, but holds his tongue. if someone asks, and it's for charity, who is he to say no ? " good to know i've got your blessing after curfew, though. i'll make sure to pencil it into my schedule. " dom rolls his eyes at the mention of the wet t-shirt contest, his eyebrows shoot up. " me ? " he points at himself. " absolutely not. i've got an image to maintain. i don't objectify myself for financial gain. " a pause, eyes flick toward the well-stuffed collection jar and fly quickly back to bonnie's. " what time is it at ? you don't think i'll miss it, right ? ... not that i care, for any reason. "
♪ ༘⋆ ━━━the playfulness in his expression only made lucy’s smile widen, a subtle shift in the attitude toward the stranger infiltrating her body. “wow, what a way to guilt trip me!” she feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart as her bottom lip poked out. “if you just wanted to kiss a stranger, you could’ve just asked. i don’t bite,” she paused, the corners of her lips lifting. “mostly.” lucy stood to her feet, waltzing over to dom with a scrunch of the nose. “this is why i am not involved in leadership … you get to avoid things like swapping spit with strangers.” lucy dug into her purse, fetching out her wallet. she hummed as she fished out a bill from one of the folds, holding it out to him. “one dollar. it’s all i got. take it or leave it, pretty boy.” she waved the bill. “no need to kiss me, though. just a simple charity donation.” she paused. “unless i have to kiss you.” she teased, sending him a playful wink.
laugh comes easy, head tipping back for a second before his attention settles on the lonely dollar waving between them. " one whole dollar ? " he echoes, eyebrows lifting in mock disbelief. " careful, you're gonna bankrupt yourself. " he plucks the bill from her fingers anyway, holding it up to the light as though inspecting it for authenticity. " charity donation accepted, " he declares with a solemn nod, slipping it into the collection. " the board will be thrilled to know we've officially turned a profit. " the grin that follows gives him away. " and—for the record, i wasn't angling for a kiss. " arms fold across pectorals, " but if that's where your mind went ... who am i to judge ? " his shoulders rise in an innocent shrug and nods toward the donation jar. “ the kiss is entirely up to the donor. i've been told i'm explicitly not to tell anyone they ' have ‘ to do anything, even if they mention it first. guess you’ll just have to ask politely if you want me to kiss you ! ”
" using fanservice as a way to pull in some money for charity ... what's next, a sexy, shirtless carwash ? " a scandalous side eye and smirk joined by teasing nature, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of low-rise blue jeans, eyes scanning over giant sign advertising for a chance to get a kiss from one of the lone stars' best. " nicky, you fuckin' skeez. you put yourself up to this, or is this an excuse to get some action ? no judgement, of course. i respect the grind. " the sound of an impatient clearing of someone's throat earns an annoyed glance over her shoulder, brow quirked. " i'm a paying customer, relax. see ? " promptly takes her wallet out, fingers flitting through bills and dropping a clean grant into jar. fingers crossed that she won't be needing that emergency money any time soon.
" when's your shift over ? mama's got a western burger with extra bacon and curly fries with her name on it, somewhere 'round these parts ... " faux heavy southern accent laces her words, a lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a particularly loud smack, leaving behind a red lipstick mark. " c'mooon, i'll buy you fries or some protein shit for your cut, if you say yes. "
dominic's head lifts the second he hears nicky, a groan escaping before he even spots her. " what can i say ? sex sells. " as if this was what that saying was designed for—a burly, sweaty guy collecting spare change. may as well have a tin can to rattle on the sidewalk. " i am not a skeez, " hand defensively placed on his chest, " this is for charity, yas. and no, i didn't volunteer. i was ... voluntold. " he shrugs, “ ... i mean, technically i volunteered. but they made it sound a lot less humiliating than this. ”
he claps as the bill drops into the jar, about to reply fervently on the burger topic but he's hit with the kiss , a loud smaaaaack !!! ringing in his ear. "... jesus. " she pulls away and he goes to wipe a hand across his cheek, stops upon noticing the color of her lips. " you couldn't have picked a more subtle color ? “ he scolds, “... but ... ” eyes skip from hers towards a fixed point over her shoulder, ” on behalf of the dallas lone stars foundation , we thank you for your generous contribution towards increasing access to youth hockey programs. ' " it's a spiel, one he's reading from a sign behind her at the exit that donors read on their way out, rather than hearing from the man they've just paid to touch. he smiles, like yasmin deserves a special honour, and looks back at her with clasped hands. " i've got ... " his eyes dart to the volunteer schedule taped beside him, " ten minutes. " dom all but sighs, " wait for me ? i'm holding you to those curly fries. "
“ bold of you to assume you’re not my top choice , “ both knew who she was referring to but in all honestly , considering the terrible luck of trips brooks seemed to be carrying with him for the last two weeks she’d made it her personal mission to keep him as stationary as possible . steps fall into rhythm with each other as soon as an arm finds its place through hers , heels of aria’s boots clicking as they make a bee line towards the adult rated section of the party . “ god . . . why does brooks get to have you as a sister and not me ⸺ sometimes i just wanna put you in my purse and never let you leave , “ a man could never understand the sense of girlhood that came with getting cute drinks and sucking them down until there was nothing that came between them and an elevated surface of their choice . she can’t but laugh at how ridiculous she’s sure she must look , double fisting the two cups by their handles , a sip taken from each to stop them from spilling as they walked . “ fuck . . . that’s liquor , “ winces at the strong taste of tequila that warms the inside of her throat , holding one out to clink against the edge of savannah’s , “ i can cheers to that ⸺ we’re young , we’re hot , so why the hell not , “ says it like a mantra , one she’ll be sticking to for the foreseeable future even after she’s reached the threshold of what is young is likely considered to be . “ okay but i’m still serious about the fries . . . if i’m drunk and there’s not something deep fried and terrible for me within reach i think i turn into a werewolf or something , “ meant it too , not much could stand in the way of her and a drunk munchie , sure her brother could likely recount the horror of what would happen if she went without . “ i think i saw one of those food trucks that’s like , french fries with a bunch of different flavors ⸺ maybe we should repeat the taki challenge but with those instead . . . i feel like i saw they had like , lemon pepper fries or something ? it’s gonna give me heartburn but i honestly don’t even care . . . and who knows , we might find your pornstache prince charming if we get closer to the crowd . “
blue hues roll, appreciates the attempt aria makes to dodge it. there's no way she's take savannah, but it's fun to tease regardless ! eyebrow raises to infer ... something. " i know, he doesn't appreciate me. i'm awesome. i guess you'll just have to marry that dumb fuck so we can actually be sisters. please do, i'm not kidding. i need that. " she's only joking ... or is she ? a girl can dream, she tells herself, tries not to get her hopes up that it would ever actually happen. she'd grown too attached to aria to let her go now. she nods enthusiastically at aria's reactions to the drinks— exactly why savannah had brought the two of them there. strong drinks ! " oh my god — " fingers scrunched, brought to her lips and kissed dramatically, " you should use that as a tag line on your show. just credit me once, especially if it's someone hot and cool. " the drinks inhibit them from doing anything else, so savannah leads them towards an open picnic table under a canopy of trees. she plunks the large drinks down, shimmying awkwardly onto a bench. " oh my god, yuuum — lemon pepper fries ? goddamn. keep talking, i'm close. " an obscenely vulgar thing to say, a knowing smirk shot in aria's direction, never much been one to hold her tongue.
" oh my god, my bartender boyfriend pornstache prince ... where is he ? i miss him. i should text him. " sunglasses are removed from her nose and stored upon the red bandana tied over her hair, eyes scanning quickly over the crowds again. " well ! " hands thrown in air , failed attempt to spot him, leans her elbows upon the sticky wooden surface before her. "is that pathetic, that i'm pining over ... my god, what the FUCK is his name ? " savannah whips out her phone to consult, but past her has also failed her. " ohp — his name in my phone is ' mustache bartender franks tom selleck from temu. ' wow ... " locks her phone to replace it in her pocket, takes several long sips of one of her drinks. " okay, tell me something juicy. i don't care what it is. i want to know the gossip, i'm going to explode if you don't tell me something interesting right now. "
“ i care about my slushie. actually , i care about it a whole lot. ” beau punctuated the statement by viciously stabbing the cup with his straw one more time as if the frozen drink had personally offended him. “ and i care about women ! i care about women big time. my mama , my sister , my wife ! ” the declaration came with all the passion of a man delivering a campaign speech , immediately undercut by the obnoxiously loud slurp that followed. he frowned into the cup. savannah grabbing at him earned an exaggerated groan. beau rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder he didn't strain something. “ and i don't think women should be participatin' in wet t-shirt contests. ” he lowered his voice conspiratorially , leaning closer. “ right ? that's the correct answer , ain't it ? ” his lips tugged into a grin before he waved a dismissive hand. “ i'll be keepin' my shirt dry , thank you kindly. some things are meant to remain a mystery. ” he turned his cheek toward savannah expectantly. " now , i will absolutely take a margarita. but only if they got those little plastic flamingos in 'em. if i'm gonna drink poolside nonsense , i expect commitment to the theme. "
" ... has anyone told you you're a diva ? " disbelieving eyes slip from his to peer into his drink, examining its condition. " that's self-inflicted. you can't only have good sips from the bottom. you have to also have mid sips, from the middle part, where it's icy. that's how you prevent yourself from having ... this. " she looks at him sidelong, like she can't believe beau doesn't already know that. “ oh !! man cares about women in his family. yawn — very moving, beau. what about — ” sluuuuurp !!! cut short, eyes roll as her hand finds his cup to push it away. " throw that thing out. " she advises without having been asked. " ... wait a minute. you don't think we should do wet t-shirt contests ? oh ! so ... a man telling women what we should and shouldn't do with our own bodies , again ... interesting ! " she loves rage baiting, a mastermind in combativeness. since her brother isn't around anywhere to pester, beau is a worthy second target. " poolside nonsense ... " mutters as she finishes off her own drink, snatching beau's from his hand to place them upon a nearby table . " you're buying, right ? that's the least you could do after telling me i shouldn't be proud of my body ... " bright smile, innocent. " i want a vodka cran, thank you ! that sounds so yummy right now. then you can bore me with, like ... whatever you geriatric folk get up to. tell me about your chess club, or fishing, or something. "
talia was standing next to the other , blue orbs scanning the paper in-between the femme's fingers . ❝ what a degrading activity for the female body . ❞ she remarks as sav stuffs the brochure into her pocket . talia follows the gaze of the other , but no avail as to see what she is looking at . ❝ you'd like to be known as the woman with the best tits ? wow , sav . i put you on a higher pedestal than that . there is nothing more degrading for a woman that to be lessened down to the size of your breasts . trust me , i know . ❞ the female had been . . . well endowed since she hit puberty and the men in her field always saw her as a walking pair of tits than a smart woman . she speaks with no mention of fun , her always being such a debbie downer as the kids say . ❝ and which bartender is that ? i know of at least three . ❞ brunette questions softly , finally looking over at savannah . ❝ oh trust me , your mother would be extremely proud to know her daughter has the best tits in willow glen . truly , an achievement . ❞ her words were harsh , but talia was tired of being judged just by the size of her breasts . big tits = brain dead . a perfectly arched eyebrow raises at the other , arms crossing over her chest . ❝ you must be drunk to say such a statement . me ? up there ? never . ❞
savannah blinks dumbly. degrading ? she considered it anything but — thought of it as empowering, reclaiming, and maybe at worst ? fucking fun. she looks into her drink as talia continues, confused as to why she feels like she's getting scolded for having been excited for a silly event. " ... are you done with the spiel ? " she asks, eyes glancing up from her nearly-empty margarita glass. " are you always this ... judgemental ? so what if i want to get up there and wave my boobs around — what's wrong with that ? " the mango-ice-flavored vape she'd purchased for the occasion finds its way into her hand from the pocket of her denim shorts, a small puff while considering a response. " i don't remember his name .... pathetic, i know ... but he, like, looks like a young tom selleck. dumb as a brick, honestly. but ... i don't care. " he's good in bed, she wants to say. abstains for fear of receiving a lecture on self-respect, too. frown knits her brow. " my mom is proud of me, thank you very much. " arms fold across chest, defensive. she didn't like this conversation, and wanted to leave it as soon as possible. " she would be proud to know i have the best tits in willow glen. it's not true, obviously. but she'd still be supportive. " savannah isn't quite sure where she asked talia's opinion on the matter. " well ... great, good chat. maybe you should get drunk, might have more fun that way. "
“ savannah . . . “ brooks sighs , entirely unimpressed by this conversation , ” jesus christ . stop , that's enough . i don't want to know any more than i've already been subjected to . " he doesn't want to think about the wet t-shirt contest , his mind wanders somewhere else that he doesn't want to tap into right now . " what bartender ? " he clarifies , frown from the sunshine in his eyes made deeper by the thought of some broke bartender smooth - talking his sister . " jesus . a twin bed ? sav , come on . you don't have standards ? " he stares blankly , shakes his head . no matter what he says , she'll march to the beat of her own drum , like she always has . he throws his head back in a laugh at her suggestion , sharp pain throbbing behind his left eye at the sudden movement . " yeah , dude . . . i'll enter so people can just throw rotten tomatoes at me when i win ? i don't think so . "
" ohh, shut up. for someone who struts around town acting like — what's that saying ? ... ugh, i can't remember — like, the cool-guy-head-honcho-macho-man ... you sure are a prude. get with the times, brooks. we women can be proud of our bodies now, it's not the 1950s anymore ! " savannah replaces her sunglasses upon the bridge of her nose, deciding at once to stop paying attention to him. " the one from — " cut off before she can describe him further. probably for the best. " hey, don't judge a twin bed. what if he's poor ? or desperate ? or down on his luck ? " wait ... she thinks. she's making a horrible case for herself, moves along swiftly. " when you win ... " a scoff, knows he didn't have the gall to win the contest. not like her. " if you want to get rotten tomatoes thrown at you, i'll just do it myself. gladly ! " she gives up on scanning for said bartender, sighs as she turns back to her brother. " ugh … can you buy me another drink ? this one is gross. i don't even like rum, i don't know why i ordered it. "
" yeah dude , c'mere. " jason clapped a hand against dom's back before making an exaggerated series of kissy faces at him. " pucker up , handsome. it's for the kids. " he managed to land a loud smack right on his teammate's cheek before pulling back with a laugh. his eyes drifted to the price list and widened immediately. " fifty fuckin' dollars !? " he barked out a laugh , looking between the sign and dom. " jesus christ , khadra. you're makin' a killin' over here." he glanced around conspiratorially before lowering his voice. " so what i'm hearin' is i could charge ninety ? hell , we should do a two-for-one special. ' kiss khadra and get a free dorsey. ' we'd raise enough money to build these kids their own rink. "
thud ! the clap to his back wakes him up, like he needed to be physically shocked back into reality. dom grimaces at the sensation of jason's wet lips on his face, accepts it only momentarily before he pushes him away. " what the fuck — " dom wipes a hand across his cheek, looks at it like there will be a slime trail upon it.
" yeah, fifty dollars ! pay up ! " voice emphatic, like he's offended jason thinks the price is too expensive. dom points at the box near the entrance, where bills have been collected all morning. " you think could charge ninety ? huh ... i like your confidence. " snide remark, all jokes, hand finds jason's shoulder to shake warmly.
" dude, i might go crazy in here. " he stands, stretching . dom's eyes glance nervously towards the entrance to the stand, like some crazed fan might suddenly run in and tackle him. " you want to take a turn ? i don't even know how i got roped into this. i guess i talked back too much. what's fucked is that some of these people aren't even here for the kissing booth — someone just wanted to touch my hair. " dom's gaze looks far away, recounting a horror in his memories. " i have to do an hour and a half more of this. fuck … want to bring me a couple shots or something ? make this less … awkward ? "
♪ ༘⋆ ━━━ the summer heat was beginning to take a toll on lucy as she curled up a pamphlet in one hand, fanning herself, the stickiness of her hair forcing her to frown. her boots clicked on the ground as she passed through the booths, the flimsy paper keeping her cool slipping from her fingers. " fuck , " she mumbled as she leaned down, an unfamiliar voice echoing in her ear. the brunette looked up as her chipped nails curled around the paper, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of a very shirtless and very attractive man standing before her. " uhm , " lucy looked over her shoulder, seeing no one else around them. he was, in fact, talking to her...about kissing him. she looked back up at him, eyes squinting as she lifted a hand to her forehead, blocking out the sun, the lighting acting like a halo around him. " no ? " she shrugged, resuming her fanning episode. " am i supposed to kiss you ? are you like ... the best kisser in town or something ?" she grinned, glancing past him for a moment, acknowledging the kissing booth sign but wanting nothing more than to continue this conversation.
dom watches the woman, laughs at her confusion at the situation she unknowingly stumbled into. " well ... you don't have to kiss me. suit yourself, " thumb points lazily at the sign over high shoulder, gaze drifts towards it before it lands back upon her. " ... but 100% of proceeds go to charity, so … if you don't care about poor kids being able to play sports, i guess you can pass. " one shoulder lifts in a shrug, smiling while she approaches. he is grateful for the entertainment, having pecked more people than he would have liked today, and he was only a quarter of the way through his stint at the booth. " i'm kidding, obviously — no pressure. i was roped into this. turns out there are consequences for being defiant to leadership. " what a punishment !
something about the copeland candor— jonah hasn't been around her brother enough to know, but a reputation sure precedes him, and it seemed that gene was easily shared between the two. he finally looks up from the drink he's nursing, some abysmally large and overpriced lemonade, but what was a summer block party if not loaded with lemonade, something sweet, and good company? " you've still got a fightin' chance; i don't think yours are too far gone. " there was obvious sarcasm in his tone, his lower lip jutted out, mimicking the expression of deep thought. " does he even have a name? or is he just going to be fuck ass bartender with a twin bed from now on? i still can't believe you're hooked on him, by the way. " a twin bed would be a no-brainer walkout for jonah, and has been, with his brief dip into 'the apps.' " now that i think about it, y'think fuck ass bartender swings both ways? maybe i'm interested, seeing how he's got you so bad. my wet t-shirt look is totally gonna steal his heart, sav. watch out. "
" oh ! … so you've thought about my boobs. creep ! and you think they're not too far gone, whatever the hell that means. you have such a way with words. really know how to … build a girl up. “ hands find her chest, and despite the playful tone in her voice she holds herself almost self-consciously. “ no, of course he has a name, ” eyes roll, ” i just can't remember it ! maybe it's alex ? i don't know ... doesn't really matter, we don't do much … talking. " it's a low point for her, they both know it. but desperate times call for desperate measures. " okay, ' hooked on ' is too far . " finger points at jonah, " ... i think the unfortunate truth is that i just — and don't tell anyone this, it's a red flag of mine — i love a mustache. it really does something for me. but i'm not hooked. " was hooking up with someone on a twin bed really that bad ? … she doesn't answer that in her head, but tells herself people do crazier things. savannah's fingers find her slushy margarita again, tongue darts across the salted rim before she takes a sip. " yeah ? you going to go enter the contest ? go for it ! do me a favor and take that damn bartender away from me ! " words pleading, joking, but spoken empathically. " when you win the contest, you have to take me along for the prizes. i don't even know what they are, but i know they're good. "
silver nearly stops dead in her tracks when she spots the sign , a slow smirk tugging across her lips at the realization of what's going on . somehow , against his will , she imagines — or maybe not ! maybe he's into this kind of thing — the elusive dominic khadra is participating in a kissing booth . this is too good to pass up . silver readily coughs up the $50 that buys her fast pass and sidles up towards the man . " well , i paid , didn't i ? " silver shrugs , beaming . it's too funny , the thought of this man being used to raise money for charity by willing paramours . and there were many of them , judging by the line she'd been able to skip . " but i just came here to check it out . and support the charity , obviously . " silver sits across from dom , suddenly feeling shy . " been busy ? if not , you're about to be . there's , like , fifty people in line out there . on second thought — please don't kiss me . i don't want to get herpes or something from your dirty mouth . "
" oh , for sure — just to check it out, support underprivileged kids. not any other reason ... " teasing, one ankle propped over his knee, leans back in his chair to smile up at silver upon her approach. dom blows out a puff of air, looks towards the area where any number of people might be waiting. " busy enough, i guess. " how does he navigate this ? yes, it's busy — too cocky, self-absorbed. no, it's not busy — i'm not desirable enough for people to pay to kiss me, even if goodwill is involved. luckily silver fills in the sentence, laugh tumbles in nervousnness. " fifty ? now you're being too generous. " eyes find her lips ... dirty mouth being an interesting wording that he's fairly certain he's used to describe her before, too. " fine ! i'll keep my dirty mouth all to myself." folds arms across chest, shrugs though a smile lingers. the moment hangs a second, and dom continues. " you don't have any merch you want me to sign ? or want to tell me about how i played last game ? now's your chance to talk to me ! all for the low, low price of fifty dollars. i'm a big-ticket item."
rooster’s hat shielded his face from the sun as he made his way past the different block party booths. he wasn’t heading for one in particular; he just liked to see what was on offer. he usually stopped by the food stalls, always finding something delicious to eat, and always found his way to the ones selling little trinkets.
he was still meandering when a voice caught his attention. rooster furrowed his brows at the other man’s words, but when he saw the booth sign things made more sense.
dallas lone stars… he wasn’t into hockey, so didn’t know who dominic was, but he must be fairly popular or arrogant to have set up a booth like this.
“uh… no,” rooster replied awkwardly. “i’m sure you’re a great guy, but i don’t swing that way. no offence. i’d rather just hand over twenty dollars if it’s for charity.” a pause. “do ya really get that many people wanting a kiss? seems a little intrusive to me.”
a shrug rolls from his shoulders as the man declines. " suit yourself ! " it suits dom just fine — he'd been one of the only available players to take on the task without there being personal ramifications, so he'd taken up the task with minimal complaints. small smile forms on his lips, the other seeming to doubt how easily people could be mobilized for a cause when there was something they deemed valuable in it for them. beyond the goodwill and pat on the back, naturally. " it's been pretty busy, " shrugs, looks past him towards the flocks of people meandering along the block. " not everyone wants a kiss, though. some just want to come say hi. it's not too bad. " intrusive wasn't a condition that dom had considered for this situation, hadn't really considered it much at all ! " hell, i can think of about twenty things i'd rather do less than this. like interviews for social media ? i hate that shit. always feel like a poser. and this is all for charity, so it's worth any potentially ... awkward situations. " he repeats, finger motioning towards the sign.