by Ward, Tracey
Manello gets ahold of a big wave at the end of the time but he can’t hold onto it. He rushes it and flounders inside the whitewater, recovering before he wipes out but emerging from the whitewater with an angry frown on his face.
He was good, but Lawson was flawless and his one hasty mistake might have cost him the heat.
Fans rush the beach as Lawson emerges from the water. I notice quickly that there’s an entire camp of fans dedicated to him sitting center beach and it doesn’t surprise me. A lot of these surfers are international, coming from every corner of the globe, but Lawson is a local boy. A surfing legend in the area since he was just a kid. A few little boys and a couple of young girls ask him for autographs which he happily signs. Guys his age give him a nod and a fist bump. Girls in nothing but bikinis and a smile want to give him hugs and probably their number. Girls with unblemished bodies and big boobs. Girls who are local.
“You can’t kill them with your eyes so stop trying,” Katy mutters to me under her breath.
I shake my head, clearing my face. “I wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up.”
“You trust him, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“And he loves you, remember?”
I sigh. “Yeah. I remember.”
“Lawson’s never been big on the groupies,” Wyatt assures me, surprising both Katy and I. I hadn’t realized he was listening. “He’s got a few stories, but mostly from high school. He really calmed down when Aaron joined the Navy and he got serious about going pro.”
I look sideways at Katy, gauging her reaction. She doesn’t give one. Her face is stony still, her eyes on the empty water, and I wonder what the hell Wyatt was thinking. I also wonder if he didn’t drop that name on purpose, intentionally reminding her he’s gone.
Leaving them to deal with each other however they want, I hurry down the beach toward Lawson as he approaches.
“That was amazing!” I gush, throwing my arms open to hug him.
He plants his board and picks me up in his arms, holding me tightly above the sand. “I like this,” he tells me as his wet jersey seeps water into my tank top, down to my bikini underneath, and onto my burning skin. “Walking out of the water to find you waiting for me. I could get used to this for sure.”
I bury my face in the crook of his neck. He smells like sunscreen and sea salt. Like home.
The thought makes my stomach turn painfully.
“I’m getting used to being here,” I tell him quietly.
Chapter Nineteen
Manello falls out, sending Lawson on to the Semi-finals and finally the Final heat where he goes head to head with a pro. Same guy who won the event last year.
It’s close, but Lawson beats him. He wins the event, takes the purse, and earns himself ten thousand points toward his bid for the World Tour. According to Wyatt, this win lands him in the top five Men’s Qualifying Series ranks.
“How many more of these do you have to win to get in the World Tour?” Katy asks over dinner. “You have to be close, right? You’ve won two of them.”
Lawson has taken us to a burger joint he knows of just north of Huntington Beach. It’s small inside but the outdoor area is the draw. It used to be a garage, the west side of the building two huge bay doors that slide up into the ceiling and leave you eating outside no matter where you’re sitting. The ingredients are all fresh, all locally grown, and they taste like heaven as we watch the late evening waves glistening gold and yellow across the highway. There’s a band setting up, one Lawson knows the bassist for, and he promises they’re good. He’s ordered us a pitcher, pouring hefty amounts into each of our glasses, so it looks like we’re staying for a while.
I’m not complaining.
“The top sixteen go to the World Tour,” Lawson explains, “but my problem is that I only compete in local events. I’m not allowed to qualify for the World Tour if I only win in California.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my home turf. It favors me because I know the waters. I have to win heats in other countries to qualify.”
“So where are you going next?”
“Nowhere,” Lawson replies simply. “This was the last event in California for the year.”
Katy shakes her head. “But you just said that you can’t qualify if you’ve only competed here. Why wouldn’t you go somewhere else?”
“Too expensive.”
“Didn’t you just win a shit-ton of money at this event?”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t call it a shit-ton.”
“Next event is in two days in Chile,” I tell Katy, reading off the schedule I’ve pulled up on my phone. “But that’s a thousand point event. Barely worth getting out of bed for let alone getting on a plane. There’s two events in September in Portugal. Both ten thousand points apiece.” I look up at Lawson, shrugging. “That’d be worth it, right?”
He’s watching me with a mix of admiration and amusement. “You’re getting the hang of this, aren’t you?”
I smile. “I like watching you win.”
“I’ll do it more often.”
“You’ll have to if you want to stay in the top sixteen. Portugal next month is your best bet.” I plop my phone down next to him on the black mesh table. “Better book your flight now. Trust me, last minute tickets are expensive.”
He doesn’t reach for my phone. He watches me carefully, his eyes guarded in a way I haven’t seen in weeks. “You’ve been pricing tickets lately?”
“I’ve been staying informed,” I answer carefully.
His eyes linger on mine before dropping to my phone, his head bobbing in a slow nod. “I think I’ll pass on Portugal this year.”
“Why?” Katy demands incredulously. “You’re on a roll. You’re in the top tier.”
“Bad timing,” Lawson answers coolly.
He kicks back his beer and sets his pint glass down firmly, the foam slowly easing down the sides and settling in the bottom of the glass. He reaches over with his now free hand and lays it on my knee. His fingers caress my skin absently, his eyes on the water, and I wish we were alone so I could talk to him. So I could ask him what he’s thinking, but part of me is scared to know. I’m not ready to have this conversation yet and I know Katy is right, I know time is running out, but I want to linger here just a minute more. I want to be here with him as much as I can, let him celebrate and enjoy this day because he deserves it. He deserves to be happy.
Lawson wasn’t wrong – the band is good. After just three songs I understand why he likes them. They’re a Sublime cover band, Lawson’s favorite. The four of us finish our burgers, Wyatt and I finish the pitcher of beer, and we watch the sun start to set on the water.
Two hours later and another pitcher split between Wyatt and I and we’re ready to head home.
“Hey, Katy,” Lawson calls to her when we head out to the parking lot. “You mind if we switch passengers?”
She shrugs. “Sure. Wyatt, you’re with me, buddy.”
He cringes at the name, but he happily climbs inside her car, tripping once on the way in. He’s buzzed and so am I. Katy and Lawson each had one beer from the pitcher at the start of the night but nothing for the last couple hours. Wyatt and I however have probably had too much. I’m all smiles and hands up and down Lawson’s arm that might be holding me vertical more than I realize. He leads me toward his shining black car, Layla lovingly strapped to the roof, and I run my hand along her surface as I step toward the passenger door.
“I’m glad you and her are back together,” I tell Lawson happily.
He smiles, unlocking the car. “Yeah, me too.”
“Did you miss her?”
“Yeah.”
“You surfed on other boards but you always wanted her back, didn’t you?”
“Yup.”
He holds my door open for me, waiting patiently. I don’t get in the car. I look up into his handsome face and I feel myself start to crumble inside. His face falls to wo
rry when he sees it.
“If she’d needed more time,” I whisper softly, “would you have given it to her?”
“You mean would I have waited for her?” he asks seriously, his voice so lovely and deep.
“Yeah.”
“Yes. I would have waited for as long as she needed.”
“But you’d still surf. You’d still use other boards.”
“Rachel,” he begins.
I take a shuddering breath and race forward over his words. “Even if you did, you’d still love her, wouldn’t you? Layla. You might take another board out on the waves but you’d always love her.”
“Yeah, Rach.” He uses both hands to smooth my hair away from my face, out of the wind to where he can see my eyes. He holds my head in his hands steadily. “I would wait and I would always love her.”
I stand on my toes and kiss him, tears in my eyes that I don’t totally understand. I’m a mess of emotions and beer and confusion. I’m so lost and so torn that even the taste of his lips doesn’t set me straight. The feel of his hands on my skin, his chest under my palms and the perfect beat of his heart isn’t enough. It spins me out further, buries me down deeper, and I can’t see and I can’t breathe and I absolutely cannot think.
I fall back to the flat of my feet and force a shaky laugh. “I’m drunk,” I tell him apologetically.
He grins faintly, but it doesn’t look convincing. It doesn’t reach is eyes. “A little bit, yeah.”
“Will you take me home? I need to get to sleep.”
“Yeah, of course.”
It takes over two hours to drive home from Huntington Beach. We’re quiet almost the entire way. I try to talk to Lawson about his competition and the other people who were there, the pros and the amateurs he’s grown up with, but eventually he falls silent and I fall asleep. I barely wake up enough for him to walk me to my door. He assures me he can see Katy’s car in her driveway next door, telling me she made it home safe, and he offers to help me to bed. It’s late, though, and I can only imagine the wrath my dad would show us if he saw Lawson Daniel leaving my bedroom at this time of night.
He kisses me goodbye sweetly, waiting until he hears me lock the door to go back to his car. I listen as he starts it up and drives away. I wait until I can’t hear the engine anymore. Until the feel of his lips on mine fades. I stand there in the dark in the living room waiting for him to leave my senses, to feel what that’s like and imagine it lasting not just a day but a week and a month. A year.
I stand there in the dark.
And I cry.
Chapter Twenty
“Wake up!”
A painful snap hits the end of my nose, jolting me awake. I swat wildly, connecting with something soft and hard at the same time. Something that shouts and hits me back.
“Crap!”
My eyesight is blurry with sleep but I make out the outline of Katy standing next to my bed. She’s holding her right breast and glaring at me.
“You hit me in the boob, you bitch,” she hisses.
I touch my nose, the sting still strong. “You flicked me in the face. You get what you give.”
“I was trying to wake you up.”
“Why? Why would you wake a person up that way?”
“Because you refused to wake up when I yelled at you!”
“Well I’m awake now so stop yelling at me!”
She sags, collapsing on my bed and across my legs. “Okay,” she replies glumly.
I try to sit up but she has me pinned. “What’s the matter?”
“I had a weird night.”
“After you left Huntington Beach?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
She rolls dramatically onto her back, her hair splaying out over my comforter and her body freeing my legs from her weight. “Wyatt kissed me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Very seriously.”
I smile, sitting up excitedly and shaking her arm. “That’s good news, right? He’s a great guy and he’s had a thing for you forever.”
“I know.”
“Did you kiss him back?”
“Yeah. A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“For like an hour.”
I giggle happily, earning a glare from her.
“This isn’t a good thing,” she warns me.
“Why not? The kiss couldn’t have been bad if you did for a solid hour.”
“Probably longer, and no. It wasn’t bad. It was actually really, really great. I haven’t kissed a guy in over a year and when he did it I just… I lost my mind. I mounted him, Rach.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. I straddled him in his seat and I attacked him.”
“And it was good?”
“It was so good. That boy knows how to kiss.”
“Did he try anything?”
She throws her arm over her eyes, shaking her head. “No.”
“Did you want him to?”
“No.”
“So why are you treating this like it’s a bad thing?”
“Because he’s a good guy! Good guys are the worst.”
I laugh, pulling her arm off her face. “That’s not true and you know it. They’re the best. You’re just scared to like him.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I feel guilty. Like I cheated on Aaron.”
I reach out and flick the end of her nose hard.
She shrieks, sitting up and scurrying away from me to the end of the bed. “What the hell?!”
“No,” I scold her sternly.
“Are you talking to me like I’m a dog?”
“Yes. You’re a bad girl! Stop it!”
“But I feel gui—“
“Stop it!”
She throws a pillow at me. “You stop it.”
I swat the pillow away, settling in seriously. “You can’t feel guilty about Aaron, Katy. It’s over.”
“You don’t know that. No one knows that because he’s not here. Who knows where he is?”
I shake my head, shrugging helplessly and avoiding her eyes.
“Lawson knows, doesn’t he?” she asks quietly.
The fact that she’s asking doesn’t bother me. She’s shown a lot of restraint in the last two months. She’s given me a lot of time for Lawson and me to be just that – Lawson and I. She’s never asked me to find out where Aaron is and that couldn’t have been easy for her. But with Wyatt’s kiss and her guilt and her never ending longing for a man who is dead set on disappearing, it was inevitable that this moment would come.
And I will not lie to her.
“Yeah, he does,” I tell her hesitantly.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yeah. I do.”
She takes in a quick, shaking breath. “And you didn’t tell me?”
I feel sick inside with the secret I’ve kept, and when I meet her eyes I hope she can see that. I hope she can forgive me. “I swore I wouldn’t.”
“Where is he, Rach? Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“He’s here. He’s in Isla Azul.”
She’s shocked into silence. Her eyes blink several times but it’s the only reaction I see. Then she laughs.
“Are you fucking with me?” she asks, smiling.
“No. He’s really here. He’s at his parent’s house.”
She laughs again, standing up and turning in a circle, not sure what to do with herself. “That is… oh my God. Rachel, that is the best news!”
“No, it’s not,” I tell her urgently, standing to face her. “It’s really not. He’s been here for months. Something happened in the military and he’s back now and he doesn’t want people to know.”
Her smile disappears. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. Lawson wouldn’t tell me.”
She goes to dresser, opens my underwear drawer, and fl
ings a piece of white fabric at my face. “Put a bra on,” she demands. “We’re going over there.”
“Katy, we can’t.”
“Aaron Daniel is in Isla Azul.” She points out the window. “He’s less than five miles away and you think there’s anything on this earth that’s going to stop me from going over there and seeing him?”
“He doesn’t want anyone to see him.”
“Well then he should have gone to the moon! He owes me answers and I’m going to get the goddammit!”
She bursts from my room and heads for the front door.
I hurriedly throw on my bra and follow her out of the house.
She’s twitchy on the drive over. I don’t bother trying to talk her out of it because this is obviously happening. She’s right – nothing on this earth could stop her from going to him. Even if it is to tear him a new one.
Lawson’s car is in the driveway when we pull up. I’m surprised by that. It’s after eight in the morning. He should be at the beach right now. Part of me wishes he was because when he sees us here, he won’t be happy.
Katy has slammed her car door and made a dash for the front of the house before I can even get out. She’s ringing the doorbell over and over as I slowly go to join her.
“Come on, come on,” she mutters impatiently, looking up at the second story of the house for signs of life.
There’s nothing.
“Maybe they’re not home,” I suggest halfheartedly.
She snorts. “He obviously doesn’t get out much or someone would have known he was here.” She pounds on the door with her fist, giving up on the doorbell. “Aaron Daniel, I know you’re in there! I know you see me out here! Come answer this door and face me like a man! You owe me that much!”
The door swings open, filling instantly with an angry Lawson. He looks from Katy to me, his face darkening when he spots me.
“You told her,” he accuses angrily.
I nod slowly. “I said I wouldn’t lie to her. She asked me so I told her.”
“Where is he?” Katy demands of Lawson. “He’s inside, I know he is.”
He holds the door halfway closed. “He won’t want to see you, Katy. He doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“Not okay. This is happening. Rachel says he’s been here for months. In all that time he couldn’t have called me? He couldn’t have sent a letter telling me he was alive? I’ve been waiting for him for almost a year, Lawson! One day he’s sending me emails telling me how much he loves me and that he can’t wait to see me again, and the next he drops off the face of the earth without a word! Who does that to a girl?!”
