The Size of Texas – Part 7

Everyone in this story is 18+

The next morning, the house smelled like burnt bacon and leftover chlorine. Everyone was sluggish, scattered across the kitchen table.

Mom breezed in wearing a red blazer, hair teased to heaven, pearls swinging like a weapon. Behind her came Dad, lugging a cooler that looked older than me.

“Well,” Mom said brightly, clapping her hands, “I am off to the convention!”

Antonia, still in pajama shorts and sunglasses, raised a brow. “Didn’t you just do this convention?”

“This is different,” Mom said, adjusting her cross pin. “Last week was God Bless Texas. This week is Jesus Came Guns Blazing.”

Antonia blinked. “Those are… different things?”

“I already told you,” Mom sighed, like Antonia was the problem. “Completely different sponsors. The Blazing one’s got better raffle prizes — you can win a gold-plated AR-15.”

Austin choked on his coffee. “Praise be.”

Mom ignored him, scanning the table. “Now, does anyone want to come? I hear they’re doing a panel on Christian masculinity. Might be very educational.”

Silence.

Troy looked like he was about to raise his hand out of reflex until Ayden elbowed him.

“No takers?” Mom said sweetly, though her smile was tight. “Fine. But don’t complain when your souls are in peril.”

Dad set down the cooler with a grunt. “Buck’s meeting me at the lake,” he said. “Fishing trip. Be gone all day.”

“Lake Austin?” Texas asked.

“Yep. Big ones biting this time of year.” Dad nodded like that explained everything.

We all watched as Mom kissed Dad on the cheek, grabbed her monogrammed tote, and marched out the door humming How Great Thou Art. Her SUV roared to life, tires crunching down the driveway until the sound disappeared.

Dad stood in the doorway a moment, staring after her like he’d forgotten something. Then, without a word, he wandered back inside, muttering low into his phone. We couldn’t make out what he was saying — just a few clipped words, the sound of the back screen creaking, the cooler scraping tile.

A minute later, he reemerged, voice back to normal, face blank like nothing had happened. He hefted the cooler and headed out toward the driveway, mumbling something about meeting Buck early at the lake.

Austin frowned, leaning against the counter. “That was… kinda weird, right?”

“Yeah, Buck his literal only friend, usually picks him up in his Chevy.” Antonia said, watching him go. “Little sus.”

Austin nodded. “Definitely sus.”

The door shut behind him, leaving the house suddenly quiet — that heavy, electric quiet that only happens when the real chaos is about to start.

Ayden stretched across the counter like a cat. “So… party’s still on, right?”

Antonia smirked. “Oh, it’s on.”

Austin ducked into the pantry and came back with a bottle of tequila, grinning. “And now it’s officially on.”

◆◆◆

The party hit like a storm.

By sundown the backyard was lit up with string lights and bad decisions — cheap beer sweating in coolers, bass thumping off the pool tiles, half-strangers already stripping down to swimsuits they hadn’t planned on wearing. Someone started a drinking game by the grill, someone else was already skinny-dipping, and nobody seemed to care whose phone was filming what.

Austin was in his element, holding court by the pool with his daddy — yes, the same slightly older guy I’d caught him with by the guest house. Tattoos, beard, leather sandals. The man looked like he’d wandered out of a motorcycle calendar and Austin was loving every second of it.

Antonia rolled in with two of her college friends — lean, cocky, already buzzed before they even hit the driveway. They spent most of the evening circling her like bodyguards-slash-flirt machines, handing her drinks and grinning whenever she whispered something in their ears.

Texas and Hayes vanished early. One minute they were cuddled on a pool float, the next they were slipping upstairs with that we’re totally not sneaking off to have sex energy. No one bothered pretending not to notice.

A beat later, Austin grabbed his Daddy’s hand and led him upstairs too — barely pausing to snag another beer before disappearing down the hall.

Then Antonia. Her friends flanking her like a royal escort as she headed to her room, door shutting behind them with suspiciously quick locks clicking.

And then it was just the four of us left in the living room: Ashlee, Ayden, Troy… and me.

Ashlee was different tonight. Less sharp, less scrolling through her phone. She sat close, thigh brushing mine, voice soft and sugary in a way that made my stomach twist.

“Truth or dare,” she said suddenly, eyes flicking between us like she’d been waiting for this. “Come on. No bailing.”

Ayden smirked. “Always truth. Always dare. Your pick.”

Ashlee leaned back, thinking. “Truth. Is it true you and Troy never hooked up?”

Troy laughed, unbothered. “Nah. Not totally true. There was… an attempt.”

I blinked. “An attempt?”

Troy shrugged like it was no big deal. “Drunk thing, couple years back. Ayden tried to blow me. Didn’t work.”

Ayden rolled his eyes, drying his lips dramatically on his sleeve. “I actually thought nobody was a hundred percent straight. Guess I was wrong. If I can’t do it for you, no guy can.”

Troy grinned. “Guess I really am one hundred percent straight. Limp as a rope. After, I asked if he wanted to grab some pancakes caus’ he seemed like a cool dude.”

Ashlee wrinkled her nose. “Ew, Ayden, you are so nasty. He’s very obviously straight.”

Troy just shrugged. “It was all good. You can’t know for sure unless you try, yeah?”

“Yeah, but Ayden’s such a bitch,” Ashlee said, sweet smile hiding sharp edges. “Always messing with guys.”

Ayden’s grin faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said, still smiling. “You’re like… chaos in eyeliner.”

“Better than fake-perfect in glitter,” Ayden snapped back.

The air cracked between them — a sudden, sharp tension that had nothing to do with me or Troy.

“Okay,” Ayden muttered, standing. “I’m out.”

“Finally rid of the dead weight,” Ashlee said as the door clicked shut behind him.

Troy blinked. “I thought it was you who begged to get him here?”

“Yeah, sure, sure,” Ashlee said breezily, already sliding closer. “Anyway.”

Before I could react, she swung a leg over Troy’s lap, straddling him with practiced ease.

“Wonder if I could get you hard?” she purred.

Troy jerked back. “What? Not cool. Dallas is right there.”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, eyes bright and dangerous. “He doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. Don’t you, babe?”

My throat went dry. Rock hard. Gulping air like it might save me.

“I… I guess.”