Page 52 of Finding Noah

My boxers came next.

Jay howled with laughter behind me. Julia giggled, and if I had to bet, I’d say she was blushing at the sight of my naked ass. That nagging little voice in my head told me not to do this while the other louder voice, fueled by alcohol and marijuana gummies, told me that maybe, just maybe, this is what I needed to do to get someone to notice me. To see. To listen.

So, I took off running from beneath the cover of the willow trees. Summer sunshine hit my flesh, warming my shoulders as I crossed the street, my bare feet slapping against the asphalt. I reached Mayor Fischer’s white vinyl fence and effortlessly scaled it. The bushes on the other side scratched and prickled against my skin, and I winced, cupping my hands around the more sensitive, vulnerable parts of my body, until, finally, I emerged and stood on the outskirts of her yard.

Success.

And, man, it really was nice back here. Manicured and clean.

Alongside the pool was a seating area with wicker couches and chairs. Directly behind the house was a covered patio with an outdoor kitchen and dining area. Near where I stood, there was a firepit and tree stumps carved into little stools.

We’d been invited to a bunch of parties here over the years. The mayor and her husband, Howard—the owner of The Fisch Market, where Dad had worked and been made partner when I was fifteen, and brother of Dad’s best friend, Harry—were nice enough people, and they knew how to throw a shindig like no other.

But she was snooty as fuck. She looked down her nose at people—Dad had been one of them at one point before he got the chance to prove himself—and someone had to teach her a lesson. Someone had to humble her.

I supposed that someone could be me.

So, with alcohol and weed fueling my confidence, I uncovered my groin and coolly sauntered over to a nearby planter. Then, with a wave toward a security camera, tucked between the branches of a nearby cherry blossom tree, I took my dick in my hand and started to water the flowers with my piss.

Then it was time for a swim, and with that same casual flair, I walked onto the diving board and did a very impressive backflip into the water, if I did say so myself.

I swam to the bottom of the deep end, spun in the water, then took my time reaching the surface. Breaking through and hitting the air, I closed my eyes, sucked in a lungful of oxygen, and pushed my hair back off my forehead.

When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by Mayor Fischer and Sergeant Kinney, standing at the edge of the pool. And neither of them looked all that happy to see me.

“Wow,” I said, wiping the dripping water away from my mouth. “You got here fast.”

“You know, Mr. Mason,” Mayor Fischer said, looking down her nose at me in the very manner I would’ve expected her to, “when you want to break into someone’s backyard and use their pool for … whatever it is you’re doing, you might want to make sure they aren’t home first.”

Dumbfounded, I slowly nodded as I muttered, “Yeah, that was an oversight.”

“I’d say.”

She was angry. Livid even. I wasn’t too drunk to see that. I guessed I hadn’t anticipated anything less, but I also hadn’t anticipated facing her during the act either.

Sergeant Kinney though … he was less angry and more … disappointed, and somehow, that stung more than Mayor Fischer’s fury.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Mayor invited me in for a cup of coffee,” he explained in a flat tone. “Just in time to watch you finish waterin’ her flowers.”

“They looked dry,” I jabbed with a smirk, even as my gut told me to shut the fuck up.

“How much you been drinkin’ today, Noah?” Sergeant Kinney asked in that slight Irish accent of his.

“Enough to feel it,” I said. But not enough to not care about the way he was looking at me.

His chest lifted with a sigh as he regarded the mayor and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

She scowled, lifting her chin even higher as she replied, “Get him out of my pool and call his parents.”

Call his parents. I snickered, shaking my head. Twenty years old, and this town still treated me like a kid. A child who’d seen too much.

But Sergeant Kinney caught my amusement. He saw me. And he cocked his head and said, “Actually, with all due respect, Mayor, I have a better idea.”

Then he demanded I get out of the pool and put my hands behind my back. I complied, and Mayor Fischer shielded her eyes with a hand while Sergeant Kinney seemed unfazed by my nudity.

“What are you—” I stupidly began to ask when I felt the cool metal of his cuffs being slapped onto my wrists.