“I thought the water here was warm?”
“Nope. So, even if you had the teeny bikini, no one would see it.”
He stripped, and I started to forget about leaving the room.
“I know that look,” he teased as he stepped into his suit. “You want me.”
“That’s a given. But I guess I can take a raincheck since we’re going to the beach.”
Covered in skintight black fabric, he was a sight to behold. He held open my suit and help me slip into it like a second skin.
“Joe’s waiting in the garage for us.”
He grabbed a couple of towels then laced my fingers with his.
After we stopped by the garage to pick up Dawson’s longer board and Joe, we walked to the beach. The walk was short—across Pacific Coast Highway, through some dunes and down to the rolling ocean.
I slipped out of my shoes as soon as we hit the shore. The soft sand sifted between my toes. It was always a marvel to me, the subtle differences in texture and shade of something as simple as sand between here and the beach at home. Instead of the brownish grey of the beach at home, Malibu’s sand was much closer to the actual hue that bore the label sand. The color and power of the Pacific always awed me. The clear, bright blue was so different from the brownish green of the Atlantic. Gulls cried in the cloudless sky overhead as waves rushed towards us.
We left Joe sitting with our towels and moved into the water. As my feet became submerged, I sucked in a sharp breath. “Damn, that’s cold.”
I stopped moving forward. Dawson halted beside me.
“Told you. It’s best to just get it over with like when we were kids.”
I knew he was right, but it was so cold. The ocean never felt this cold when we were kids. Maybe we were just too reckless to notice back then.
“On three?” he asked, looking at me.
I nodded.
“One,” he said, dropping the board into the water.
“Two,” I said, willing my body to warm up.
“Three,” we said in unison and dove into the oncoming wave.
I sputtered as my head broke the surface. The temperature stole my breath. Dawson’s head popped up next to me, and he wrapped his arms around me. I welcomed his warmth. His lips descended on mine. My mouth fell open to welcome his questing tongue. My taste buds were bombarded with a hint of salt and the taste of him.
My fingers clutched at his wet suit. No matter how many times I kissed this man, those same butterflies I felt during our first barely there kiss still took flight in my belly. It was a feeling I loved and was grateful to have again. I mourned those damn butterflies for two years.
He pulled back and grinned at me. Damp locks hanging across his brow made him look like a quintessential surfer boy minus the blond hair.
“Hop on,” he said as he shifted the board between us and held it steady so I could climb on the front.
Once I was in position, he eased himself on the back of the board, careful not to dump me in the cold water.
“Paddle out,” he called up to me, the breeze taking his voice beyond me.
I reached down and started moving my cupped hands through the water, guiding the front of the board through the undulating sea. Dawson’s head rested on my butt as he synchronized his paddling with mine.
When we got far enough out, Dawson sat up, allowing me to sit straddling the board. He pulled my body backwards into his. I sank back against his chest, the water gently bobbing us. The motion was soothing and torturous as it rubbed my back against his front. The fabric of the wet suit did little to disguise his body’s reaction to our proximity. Pride swelled in my heart at how much this famous man’s body responded to me when he could have anyone. But he chose me. His heart picked mine.
“Want to try that one,” he pointed to the horizon, interrupting the emotional thought train I was on.
My gaze followed the line of his finger. The sky was beautiful out there where the sun kissed the sea. My mind snapped a mental picture for me to recreate later.
Turning to look over my shoulder at him, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and said, “Sure.”
We paddled out a little farther to get in perfect position to catch the wall of water heading our way. Once we were far enough out, we turned the nose of the board back towards the beach. Joe was a small speck amid a patchwork of color on the shore.
“I’ll tell you when to pop up,” Dawson said from behind me. His head was turned to watch the approach of the coming wave.
In no time, the swell of water was upon us. Because he was in the rear, Dawson jumped to his feet first. Beneath me, the board lifted slightly with the redistribution of weight. Once he was up and steady, he ordered me to pop up.
Biting my lower lip, I hopped up and immediately jutted my arms out for balance.
With his hand on my hip, Dawson guided me back on the board a tad. Wherever we touched, I heated. It was like satellite fires breaking out on my skin that were in direct contrast to the areas now being cooled by the offshore wind caressing my body. Dawson shifted his weight causing us to ride higher down the length of the swell as the cap of the wave curled over us. I looked over my shoulder and basked in the grin lighting up his face. Another snapshot to file away for later—vivid wall of water as the backdrop, crown of whitecap sending foamy spray out around his perfect form, muscles taut holding the classic pose, breathtaking smile and sparkles of sun bouncing off the sea.
The adrenaline surged in my veins as we rode through the tunnel of the wave and headed to the shore.
“That was awesome,” I panted when we got off the board.
“Catch another?” he asked.
I nodded. And we did it again. And again.
* * *
When we arrived at the bar, the rest of the band was already inside being rowdy and flirting with a group of women.
A blonde in skimpy clothes was perched on Wilder’s lap with her tongue down his throat. Jett was chatting up two similarly dressed women. Maddox and Brooks were talking to each other.
“I see the party started without us,” I said as we made our way over to the table.
“Nah, now it can really start since you’re here,” Maddox said with a huge grin.
The girls on either side of Jett slid closer to him, making room for us to join the table. Brooks shifted out of the booth. He turned a chair around and straddled it.
“What did you guys do today?” Brooks asked as we settled in the end of the U-shaped booth.
“Surfed,” I offered.
“When was the last time you surfed?” Maddox asked from beside me.
“Gosh, not since I was out this way for you guys’ first West Coast tour a few years ago.”
“Did you wipe out?” Jett piped up.
“Surprisingly not. But that’s probably because we surfed tandem today,” I said.
“Dawson’s been trying to get me to catch some waves since we’ve been back. But we probably wouldn’t look too cute surfing tandem,” Jett joked.
“I don’t know. I think it would be fun to watch you try,” I teased him.
“It would be hot as hell, the two of you half-dressed moving in sync with one another,” bimbo number one chimed in from Jett’s right side.
I shot a glare in her direction, but before I could answer her with some snarky comment, a grating giggle sounded from behind us.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” a sultry voice said.
Brooks shot Dawson a look I couldn’t read. “Sorry man,” he mouthed.
A woman draped her hand over Dawson’s shoulder. “Long time no see. Though not as long as before. Did you come by tonight to collect your raincheck from last time?”
She was nearly pouring herself into his lap. To his credit he didn’t even glance her way. And she was hard to ignore with her huge boobs and dark hair dipped in bubble-gum pink. Her fingers trailed across Dawson’s shoulder.
I was about ready to knock her hand off my man, but before I could Dawson li
fted her hand off him and dropped it. “Hey, Cleo. Have you met Izzy, my girlfriend?”
I took my cue and leaned forward, holding my hand out to shake hers.
As she turned to me, I had a weird sense that I’d seen her somewhere before. Her face was familiar.
“Oh, it’s you,” she exclaimed, smiling brightly at me.
“Have we met before?” I asked as she continued to hold my hand.
“No, we didn’t get the chance. You rushed off before we could be properly introduced,” she said.
What the hell was this woman talking about?
“Oh. Sorry about that. Normally, I’m not that rude,” I offered with a shrug.
“Don’t you worry about that, honey. I don’t blame you. If I’d walked in on my best friend mid-blow job, I’d probably hightail it out of there too,” she said with a laugh. After giving my hand a squeeze, she let it go.
Dawson’s neck flushed red. At least now I knew where I’d seen her before. I was mortified that night when I showed up to surprise my best friend at one of his shows. The surprise was definitely on me.
“The way he chased after you that night made me think there was more than friendly feelings going on with you two. Glad he finally manned up and told you how he felt about you. Congratulations,” Cleo said.
“Uh… thanks,” I said awkwardly. This woman was something else.
“D, why don’t you go get your girl something to drink, like a gentleman,” she admonished him. She stepped out of the way, giving him a wide berth as he jumped up to flee the awkward situation.
Cleo laughed as Dawson beat a path to the bar like his pants were on fire. She slid into Dawson’s spot and turned to give me her full attention.
She reached up and fingered my hair. “Love this shade of pink. I should try it next. Mine’s a little too bright, don’t you think?”
The girl obviously had no regard for personal space.
“Actually, you know what would look really good with your hair color and complexion?” I found myself asking, taking a curly lock of hers between my fingers.
“What?”
“Blue, like a bright indigo.”
“You really think so? I never thought about blue.” She pulled out her cell phone and began tapping away. “There. I booked an appointment to have it done tomorrow. Thanks for the tip.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And sorry for the first impression I left on you and the second one a few minutes ago. I often forget to engage my filter,” she said with a half shrug.
“No problem.”
“Just so things won’t be awkward, you should know D and I were never more than a casual hookup when he first moved to New York. While I have to admit I was sad when all that ended, I am happy he found someone to be serious with. He’s a good guy, and a helluva lay.”
“Uh…” How was I supposed to respond to that? I was waffling between wanting to like this girl and wanting to claw her eyes out.
“Damn. Sorry. There I go again with no filter. Ignore me. Anyway, how long have you two been official?” she asked.
“Well, we were together for three years, then broke up for two. We just reunited not too long ago,” I answered, seeing no reason to lie.
“Three years?” I could see her doing the math. Her eyes lit up. “You’re the reason he stopped coming around and stopped letting anyone near him after shows. I should’ve known he’d found love.”
I smiled at her.
“And you said you guys broke up for a couple of years?”
My face fell as I remembered the pain of that time period. “Yeah.”
“So, you weren’t together when they shot the music video for ‘Love Rocked’?”
When she brought up the video, something clicked in my mind. “You?”
“Yeah, I was in the video. D and the guys here are my claim to fame. Between that video and the old photo of our makeout session going viral, I got tons of calls for other gigs. I owe a lot to the boys of LO.”
Cleo was the girl from the news article and the music video. I’d spent years hating her.
“What do you mean old photo?”
“That chick from the label was always snapping photos backstage when they first started out. She used them to generate buzz about the band in the gossip rags. She caught us in a lip-lock once. Then when they called me to do the music video, she circulated that old photo around to stir up new buzz for the music video. The timing was perfect for my career.”
And perfect for the destruction of my heart.
My face must have said as much, because Cleo patted my hand and said, “Don’t you lose any sleep over any of that. After that interrupted blowjob, Dawson and I never hooked up again. Not that I didn’t try, but he always turned me down. Even turned me down not that long ago when they got back from touring.”
Before I could say anything else, Dawson returned with a hot pink drink for me. “The bartender made you a hot pink Barbie.”
“And that’s my cue.” Cleo slid from the booth. “It was nice to officially meet you, Izzy. Make sure you enjoy D. He’s a good one,” she said a little wistfully. Then she stood tall and addressed the rest of the guys, “It’s been real, boys. See you at the concert.”
She blew them a kiss and walked away, swaying her hips as she went.
“Well, that was awkward,” Brooks said.
“Thanks for summing it up, Captain Obvious,” Dawson retorted with a snort.
“Speaking of awkward, I have a bone to pick with you,” I said sternly, pointing my finger at Brooks.
“What did I do?”
“Did you hook up with my cousin, April, at my parents’ anniversary party?” I took a sip of my fruity concoction. The combination of fruit juices and coconut lit up my taste buds.
“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he answered.
“We both know you’re no gentleman. I saw you flirting with her. Then you didn’t say goodbye. Neither did she. And Dawson said you didn’t come back to his dad’s that night. I’m just wondering if you hooked up with April?” I asked again.
“You worried I didn’t show her a good time, and that it’ll be awkward at your next family reunion?” Brooks teased.
“Gosh, no. I’m worried about you never being able to shake her. That girl is a stage-five clinger. I’d feel bad if she got her hooks in you, and I hadn’t warned you to steer clear.”
“Aww. You do love me. Your concern is really touching. But don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.” He winked at me.
I shook my head and turned my attention to Maddox who was grinning like a fool over something on his phone.
“What are you up to?” I asked, bumping him with my shoulder.
“Just texting a couple of people,” he said never lifting his eyes from his phone.
“Oh yeah. Anyone special?” Maddox had always been the shy one of the group. He was the one I knew the least about.
“Actually, yeah. This girl Gina. I’ve been seeing her for about six weeks. I actually met her a while back at one of our shows, and we ran into each other after the tour ended.”
“What’s she like?” I was curious.
“She’s beautiful and really nice. She’s a bartender.”
“You like her a lot?” I asked because of the way his eyes lit up at whatever text message he just read.
“Yeah, I do. I’m trying to arrange a double date with Sky and her boyfriend. That’s the other person I’m texting,” he explained.
“Sky’s your best friend from Ohio, right?” I’d met her a few times over the years.
“Yeah. She’s amazing. I haven’t talked to her much since she started dating the guy she’s with,” he said, the smile slipping from his lips briefly.
“Ah. Well, maybe you can spend some time with her when you go home for the concert. If she’s still in Ohio that is.”
“She’s still there. She’s a kindergarten teacher. I invited her and her boyfriend to the show,” he said, still tapping away
on his phone.
“Awesome. It’ll be nice to hang out with a familiar face while you guys rock out,” I said.
“Hey, that band from last time is about to play,” Wilder interrupted.
Dawson turned to me. “These guys are pretty good.”
“Too bad we aren’t in a position to help them out yet,” Brooks said as he spun his chair around to face the stage.
“Yeah, but you know even when we get our label established and are ready to manage other artists, there are so many good acts out there just waiting to be discovered. How will we find them? How will we choose?” Wilder said, spinning his empty beer bottle on the table.
“You know what you guys should do?” I asked excitedly, laying my hand on Dawson’s bicep.
The guys all looked at me expectantly.
“When you’re ready, you should host a battle of the bands. Get some of the musicians you’ve met along the way to help you judge. The winning band gets a record contract at your new label.”
Dawson planted a loud kiss on my lips. “You’re a genius, flutterby. Highs and Lows Music can host a battle of the bands,” he exclaimed.
“Highs and Lows Music?” I asked.
“Yeah. Because life and love are both filled with highs and lows, and they’re the inspirations to our songs,” he said with a sheepish shrug.
“It’s perfect.” I beamed up at him.
All the conversation around the table halted as the house lights dimmed and a band took the small stage. We spent the rest of the night watching Steele Strings perform. They had a lot of potential. I saw in them what was under the surface with LO in the beginning. Those guys were destined for greatness too. I knew why the guys wanted to help them.
* * *
It was after midnight when we finally pulled into Dawson’s neighborhood.
“That was really nice of you to talk to those guys after they performed tonight,” I said, squeezing Dawson’s hand.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I just don’t want them to get discouraged. I remember what it was like playing small crowds and hoping someone would notice us. I mean, if that guy from Matthews’ Melodies hadn’t noticed us in that seedy bar back in New York, we might still be playing for free beer,” Dawson said with conviction.
Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3 Page 28
