On the Rocks

by Sawyer Bennett

Page 26

  “Thanks, Hunter,” I whisper, just before I fall asleep.

  18

  Peace.

  That is what I’m feeling at this very moment.

  It’s an experience of complete relaxation of the body, and utter contentment of the mind.

  I have it because I’m on my couch, lying on my side, with Gabby tucked in front of me. We’re watching a movie—Talladega Nights—which she thinks is absolutely hilarious, and I think is pretty f**king stupid. But when I asked her to spend a quiet night at home with me on Friday night, I assured her of two things. First, we would have the house to ourselves because John and Sasha were traveling down to Wilmington to check out the surf scene there, and second, that she could pick whatever movie she wanted.

  I remember from the time we were kids, we never really shared the same taste in movies. At first, when she was younger, it’s because she was interested in stupid, girlie movies. As she got older, and we would often watch movies together at my house—Gabby, Casey, Brody, Wyatt, and me—she wanted more slapstick comedy, and I tended to want guns and bombs blowing shit up.

  It appears, as we are in early adulthood, we’ve sort of settled into those genres and, since I promised her she could pick, we’re watching Talladega Nights and not Mission Impossible: 4.

  But I’m at peace, because even though I can’t get into this movie, I can totally get into watching Gabby watch this movie. She is laughing her ass off almost the entire time, twice snorting, which made her laugh even harder. Her body is warm and soft, pressed up tight against me, and her hair smells like clover and honey.

  It’s nice having her all to myself tonight. We’ve both been working hard during the day, her more so than me, as her crew has been scrambling to get the covered roof built before this weekend when showers are predicted. Even though the new bar she built is covered with a tarp, she wanted the added protection of the roof. Now all she has left is getting the retractable walls installed next week and the staining done, then she can move on—hopefully to the Coursier’s project.

  Gabby has stayed with me every night this week. She’s developed an easygoing friendship with John and a polite tolerance for Sasha. Oh, Sasha came off nice that first night with a heartfelt apology, but I’ve noticed she tries to get in little licks on Gabby, which are just subtle enough to be overlooked, but just biting enough that you know she’s full of passive aggressiveness.

  Just last night, Gabby cooked spaghetti for everyone, which was delicious, but Sasha had to make sure she told her that I wasn’t particularly fond of Italian sausage in the sauce. I think it was Sasha’s way of reminding Gabby that she had me first and that she knew things about me that Gabby didn’t, which let’s face it… has got to be tough on the new girlfriend. But before I could even come to Gabby’s rescue, she just smiled at Sasha and said, “Duly noted. If he doesn’t like it, he can pick it out. ”

  I roared with laughter over that, and so did John for that matter. Sasha just got a pinched look on her face and ate her spaghetti in silence. When I looked at Gabby, she shot me a wink and then slurped a noodle up so fast that it flopped all around and stuck to her chin.

  A complete dork, and I loved it.

  Gabby howls with laughter at the movie, her body stiffening, and her head thrown back against my shoulder.

  “I’m gonna come at you like a spider monkey,” she mimics as she wheezes in between laughing. “Oh my God… I think I’m going to pee my pants. ”

  “You’re such a dork,” I chuckle as I squeeze my arms around her.

  Her laughter slows down a bit, but her voice is still buoyant. “Yeah, but I’m your dork. ”

  “Yes, you are,” I murmur as I lean over and press my lips to the back of her head.

  All of her merriment shuts off instantaneously. It goes not only deathly quiet, but her body freezes in my embrace. Then she rolls to face me, her eyes questioning mine for something, but I don’t know what she’s seeking.

  “Gabby—”

  “Shh,” she whispers as her fingertips press up against my lips. She watches me for a moment more, her eyes flickering back and forth between the boundaries of my own gaze as she smiles tenderly. “I’m glad I’m your dork. ”

  Gabby removes her fingers from my mouth and leans in, brushing her lips across mine. Hers are so soft and full, generously covering my own with satin care. When she presses in harder, my mouth opens, gratefully accepting her searching tongue.

  It’s forever the same, the electric surge of desire that overwhelms me from just the contact of her kiss. My arms tighten around her, returning her passion and claiming her as my own. But it’s also different, because Gabby uttered some very important words to me just a moment ago. She released them out into the world, and I accepted them.

  She said she was mine.

  A weird feeling pierces my chest, painful and warm… like a vice-grip around my heart, squeezing forth the longing and opening it back up for something more peacefully filling.

  Gabby said she was mine, and it feels f**king fantastic.

  Yes, I’m liking this feeling a lot.

  Standing at the bar, I look back over the inventory sheets that Brody had filled out and try to make my purchase list for the upcoming week. It’s one of the things I dread about Saturday the most… trying to figure out what shit I have and what shit I need to buy to keep the doors open and my food and drink flowing.

  I look up briefly to see Brody stacking new glasses, his head bent… quietly working. Our relationship has been strained this past week, ever since his blow up with Alyssa. I tried to talk to him about it the next day, but he firmly told me it was done, he wasn’t apologizing, and he wasn’t talking about it. Since then, he’s lapsed into being more of an introvert and only speaks when spoken to.

  Glancing out the back door onto the deck, I see Gabby out there with her crew, finishing up the final build out of the covered roof. It looks fantastic, and I cannot wait to open that area up to customers… just in time for the start of the tourist season.

  My thoughts drift back to last night. When we started kissing on the couch, all thoughts of Ricky Bobby, snorting, and spider monkeys completely obliterated, I reveled in the fact that we just made out for like an hour. Soft kissing, our hands stroking each other, whispery sighs from Gabby… it went on forever and I still could have kept at it, but then Gabby whispered that she wanted to go to bed, and well… that was that.

  My feelings for Gabby are deep. I mean, really, really deep. Part of me wonders how it happened so fast, but part of me wonders why it took so long. There was something between us five years ago, something I stupidly froze out. She’s been my friend for most of my life. This may, in fact, be the slowest buildup of a relationship in the history of the universe.

  I hear banging on the front door of the bar, which is still locked, as we haven’t opened back up yet for the lunch hour. That will come week after next, when the roof is completely finished.

  Setting my pen down on the bar with the inventory sheets, I head toward the door as I dig my keys out of my pocket to unlock the internal deadbolt.

  When I swing it open, I’m stunned to see my agent, Keith Carr, standing there. Pulling his sunglasses off, he flashes me a Hollywood smile and holds his hand out. “Good to see you, Hunter. ”

  I reach out to shake his hand. “Yeah, Keith. Good to see you, too. What are you doing here?”

  Keith tilts his head and gives me a disapproving look. “Come on, man. You’re stalling and dodging me. You seriously think I wouldn’t get on a plane and fly my ass to the east coast to talk to you?”

  I step back from the doorway and motion Keith inside. When it boils down to it, I guess I’m not really surprised he’s here. He’s been pushing me with repetitive calls and emails to accept the new endorsement deals on the table, which will effectively enter me back into the Tour race for the following year. I’ve been thinking it over, but I haven’t been ready to commit.

  �
��Come on in. I was just doing some inventory. ”

  Keith follows me to the back bar, and I motion for him to take a seat on one of the stools. There’s no one in here but Brody, and I could care less if Brody hears this conversation. After I settle myself on a stool next to Keith, I say, “Brody… I want you to meet my agent, Keith Carr. Keith… my brother, Brody. ”

  Brody turns and leans across the bar to shake Keith’s hand, never saying a word, but at least giving him something less than a glare.

  “I sort of figured this was Brody,” Keith says with a laugh. “I mean… you two are identical. ”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Brody asks, taking a swipe at the clean bar top with his rag.

  “Nah… I’m good,” Keith says affably, and then turns to me. “So… Hunter, this place looks great. Everything going well?”

  “Yeah… going great. Almost finished with some remodels to give me some expanded seating,” I tell him as I point to the back glass door to Gabby’s crew, who are hard at work.

  Keith nods, gives the back door a glance, and then turns back to me. “Have you given any more thought to the endorsement offers?”

  “I have. Just like I told you on the phone… and by email. I’m thinking about it, but I’m not sure what to do. ”

  “You know these offers won’t last forever,” Keith points out. “If you don’t make a decision, they’ll go on to the next hot surfer and make the same offers. ”

  “I know,” I snap, frustrated with the way he’s hounding me but equally frustrated I have no clue what to do. “I didn’t fall off the turnip truck. I’ve been in this game long enough to know how the game is played. ”

  Keith holds his hands up. “Easy, dude. You know I’m just doing my job… looking out for you. ”

  “You’re looking out for your commission, Keith… at least be honest about it. ”

  Narrowing his gaze at me, Keith leans in and practically snarls, “Yeah… you take these deals, I’m going to make a lot of f**king money, but don’t ever think I’m not looking out for you, Hunter. You screwed the pooch when you walked away at the top of your game, and if you have even the slightest desire to get back on the Tour, you need me to help you do it. ”

  Letting out a sigh, I nod. “I’m sorry, man. And I know you have my back. You always have. I just don’t know right now… I have a lot of shit on my plate,” I say as I look down the bar at Brody. “How much time can you buy me?”

  “A week… maybe two. ”

  “Fuck,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair, because I’m not ready to make this decision.

  “Look, man. Let’s talk this through. What are your concerns? You know I’m your sounding board,” Keith says sincerely, and it’s true. He’s been representing me since the first endorsement deal came to my parents when I was just seventeen. Keith has been a good friend and a trusted advisor.

  “Yeah… we need to talk,” I tell him, casting my gaze down to Brody again. I left the Tour to come home for Brody, but now I’m not sure that was the best idea. Of course, now I’m saddled with a business I bought, and I just can’t walk away from that, either. I would need someone who I could trust to take it over, and Brody made clear to me that he didn’t want a partnership. “Let’s go take a ride down the coast, but first, I want you to meet someone. ”

  Keith gives me a smile and then follows me when I head out on the back deck. As soon as I open the door, Gabby’s curses hit my ears. “Fuck, Smitty. I told you to move the scrap out to the parking lot. I almost just broke my f**king neck tripping over it. ”

  I grin as I walk toward her, loving the fierce way she stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at Smitty, who is a beast of a man. He just hangs his head in shame and says, “Sorry, Gabby. Got sidetracked. ”