Bea and the Bad Boy: Young Adult Sweet Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 3)

by Anna Catherine Field

  For a quick moment I’m ready. I want to kiss him. What was I fighting about before? Convictions? What’s a conviction? I feel the whisper of his breath on my cheek and I shout, “Cheese!”

  Every person in the restaurant looks our way. I giggle nervously and call out, “Cheese, amirite?”

  Carter laughs, genuinely without the smirk and amusement. “You’re so weird, you know that?”

  “I do,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “And now you get to claim me.”

  13

  Bea

  Carter and I part in the driveway that night. He’s carrying the leftover box of pizza and I’ve got a phone full of notes describing our arrangement. “See you tomorrow,” I say, stepping into my yard.

  He pauses and scratches his head. “Shouldn’t I walk you to the door?”

  “Oh, right. Maybe?”

  He crosses the driveway and reaches me, shifting the pizza to one hand and slipping his hand in mine. It’s such an easy fluid move, one that I’m still not accustomed to, but I know that hand-holding isn’t a big deal and I need to stop treating it as such.

  We reach the front door and there’s a second where I worry where this goes next. If he’s supposed to walk me to the front door, am I supposed to let him kiss me?

  I stand on the top step, eye level with him, and he does that thing where he pushes the hair away from my face. Goosebumps travel down my spine and arms. “Night, Clarke.”

  “Goodnight.” I take a quick step back, fumbling for the door. I get inside and the last thing I see is him smiling at my skittishness. I press my back against the wood and exhale.

  I walk down the hall and into the living room, too rattled by my whole night to process the fact Atticus and Katherine are on the couch watching TV.

  I can’t back out before they see me.

  Atticus removes his arm from around Katherine’s shoulder and leans forward. “Where have you been?”

  “Out.”

  “With Carter?”

  I shrug and look out the back window. The studio light is on, which means Mom is still out there. She probably didn’t realize I wasn’t home for dinner. I start to walk out of the room, but he hops up from the couch and grabs me by the arm.

  “Seriously, Bea, what is going on with you two?”

  “None of your business.” I pull away but he holds firm. I realize that at some point I’m going to just have to say it, why not now? “Fine. Carter and I are seeing one another.”

  Katherine audibly gasps. I look behind my brother’s frame and see her staring at me wide-eyed with her hand to her mouth. “You’re dating?”

  “Yes.” Lying feels so gross, but like eating a bag of salty chips, once you start it’s hard to stop. “Honestly, you can blame Mom. She’s the one that made me go over and apologize. From there everything just kind of fell into place for the two of us.” I flash them a smile. “You know how it is.”

  “That’s a clever story,” Atticus says, “but I know Carter and he’s not some kid you just fall for over an apology. If there’s really something going on, he’s using you.”

  Or I’m using him, I want to shout. The fact they can’t figure that out tells me how lame they really think I am.

  “Maybe he is,” I say, suddenly tired. “But that’s not really your concern.”

  “Yes, it is. You’re my sister and—”

  “And you made it clear we don’t get an opinion in who the other dates.” My eyes dart to Katherine and she has the good sense to look guilty. “This thing with Carter? I don’t know how long it will last, but I do know it’s happening whether you like it or not.”

  Now he has the good sense to look a little ashamed. Both of them. They created this situation. Not me.

  “I’ll be riding to and from work with him, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  I’m halfway down the hall when I hear him say, “Easier said than done, Bea, I’m always going to worry about you.”

  The easy part of having a fake relationship with my next door neighbor and co-worker is we don’t have to overthink seeing one another. What once would have been unthinkable, me riding to school with Carter, or hanging out after hours to watch him swim, or feeling the eyes of all the other staff members on me during the work day, quickly becomes the norm.

  I’m walking into the pool area during free swim a few days later when Carter strolls across the deck, whistle twirling around his fingers. “So the meet starts tonight at six.”

  The swim meet. Right. It will be my first public appearance in the role of “supportive girlfriend.” Ironically, for someone who doesn’t know how to keep a girlfriend for more than three dates, Carter is surprisingly good at it.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m just going to stay after my shift but you may want to get a ride home. There’s a lot of hang around time before it starts. Can you get a ride?”

  “I’ll take her,” Maria says, obviously listening. My ears heat up because it’s still weird for people to take notice of me alone, not to mention with someone like Carter.

  He glances at her. “You sure? I don’t want you stranded.” He touches my finger tips and gives them a tug. That tiny movement sets my whole body on alert. How does he do that?

  “Yeah, it’s no problem,” she replies.

  He tightens his grip on my fingers and tugs me closer. My heart hammers when he lowers his head to mine. He whispers in my ear, “Don’t forget the deal about making an effort.”

  Jerk. He knows I can’t help this stupid uniform any more than he can. It’s not my fault his shows off all his better attributes while mine makes me look like a frump. I lift my foot and slowly smash it down on his bare foot. He hisses and I smile. “Don’t be a sexist pig.”

  “Don’t make me back out.”

  Oh boy, he definitely can’t back out now. If he does, then no one will believe this was ever real and I’ll just look even more pathetic. “Fine.”

  He gives me a big, confident smile and walks back toward the pool.

  Maria, who has witnessed the whole thing, frowns and says, “You two have a strange relationship.”

  “Tell me about it,” I sigh, sitting on the bench. I take a second to look at her though. Carter’s right. Even though we’re about the same size and height, she doesn’t look so awkward in her camp uniform. I guess maybe it’s the little things like her painted nails and the delicate necklace in the V of her shirt. She has on a few cute bracelets too and her hair is just always amazingly shiny.

  “What?” she asks, noticing me studying her.

  I glance across the pool and see Carter giving me a pointed look. Ugh. “Do you have any time after work? I kind of need a favor.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  I suck up my ego, fighting through the embarrassment and ask, “Want to go shopping with me?”

  Turns out Maria did want to go shopping with me and I didn’t even have to push feminism back fifty years by saying I’m doing it for a guy. Turns out some people just like shopping. Maria is one of those people.

  She parks her beat-up Toyota in the business district and heads towards a few of the fashionable stores. I have spending money. My parents give me an allowance, which I rarely use on anything other than graphic novels and Slushys. As she heads to the first store I stop in my tracks. It’s one of those girly places where the blank-faced mannequins wear halter tops and wide-legged pants that would look beyond ridiculous on me.

  “Are you sure about this?” I ask, eyeing the window display.

  “You said you wanted something cute and fashionable, right?”

  “Yes, but not ridiculous. I forgot to add that part.”

  “Bea,” she says, eyes sweeping over me. “I’m not going to put you in something ridiculous. Just something—more flattering. Something that will accentuate your figure.” She taps my hip. “Which, by the way, is super cute and hidden under clothes two sizes too big.”

  “Is that why you look cute and I look like a frum
p?"

  She laughs. “Pretty much.”

  “I just like to be comfortable. Is that a crime?”

  “A crime of fashion, yes, come on,” she says and drags me into the store.

  Although I’m not a swimmer myself, I’ve been to a million swim meets because of my brother. Even my dad who travels twenty days out of the month does his best to get home for every single high school or competitive meet, and my mother will shuck her paint-covered smock to attend.

  Summer league is different. These take place in the evening, just as the hot sun is falling into the ocean. The air smells of hot dogs and hamburgers. There are packs of children running around all in the same bathing suit with little numbers penned down their arms and legs. Event numbers. Atticus will have these faded down his arms until the next meet.

  After allowing myself to be dressed and redressed like a doll at the shops, the meet had already started when I got back to The Club. Maria, to my surprise, came in with me. She hasn’t said as much, but I get the feeling she may have a crush on Hippie Sam in the concession stand.

  It’s crowded with two pools of parents and grandparents and whoever else came to watch these meets. With space limited, we climb on the low diving board and sit with our legs dangling over the water. It’s still hot but this area is shady, and the blue and white flags shift in the summer breeze.

  “Are you sure this doesn’t look stupid?” I ask for the tenth time since leaving the store.

  “Would I let you walk around looking stupid?” She rolls her eyes. “You look hot, by the way.”

  That makes me even more uncomfortable.

  After a dozen outfits, we’d finally compromised on a green tank top with an empire waist and a pair of denim shorts with strategic holes slashed in the thigh. I allowed this because it’s a mixture of looking nice but also casual and even though I am definitely trying too hard, I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. Like Atticus in the mornings with his carefully tousled hair.

  At the counter of the shop, Maria had tossed me a pair of basic flip-flops because she said she couldn’t look at my dirty sneakers any longer. Then, because we still had an hour to kill, she dragged me to the nail salon to “tackle my feet.”

  I look down now at them hanging over the clear, blue pool water and see the dark red nail polish and feel that mixture of nerves and pleasure. They look nice. Respectable. But is it wrong I’m doing this for a boy?

  The sharp screech of a whistle cuts through the air and I instinctively glance over. Katherine is on duty for the meet. She yells something down at a swimmer and then looks up, our eyes meeting. The same rage and sadness rolls over me and I remember the truth. I’m not doing all of this for a boy. I’m doing it for revenge.

  The jab of an elbow pulls me from my thoughts and Maria says, “There’s your man.”

  It’s not hard to notice him as he climbs on the starting block. Carter Haines is a work of perfection, like marble chiseled by one of the masters. His shoulders are broad, his chest taut, his abs rows of defined muscle. He’s clad in tight swimmer’s trunks, the kind that go down to the knee, and only helps display his strong legs. No wonder every girl in school had a crush on him. There’s a slight hush in the crowd and I tear my eyes from him and look around. In that moment I think everyone in the pool has a crush on him.

  I stand on the diving board to get a better view just as the official calls out to him and the other swimmers and they take their marks. Just before he bends down his eyes meet mine and the smallest curve tugs at his lips. The horn blares and in an instant, Carter is in the air, slicing through the water.

  “That smile was for you.”

  I want to deny it but I think she’s right.

  “Wow,” Maria says in a low voice. “He’s…”

  “Good. Really good.”

  I’ve seen Carter swim countless times before. Meets, water-polo games, in his backyard, but this is the first time I’ve done so as something more than a casual observer. I’m fascinated by the way his long arms cut through the water, the easy and rhythmic kick of this feet. His shoulders bob out of the water, giving a peek at his sculpted muscles. I find myself completely caught up in the race, my voice raising above the others in the area. I shout and scream for him even though he beats his opponents easily, gliding into the wall with a final kick and the outstretch of an arm. The crowd cheers, even the other team, because they’ve just seen something special.

  “Are you going to go congratulate him?” Maria asks, reminding me of my role.

  “Oh, right,” I say, feeling my own weird sense of adrenaline. I walk down the diving board. A quick glance tells me Atticus has moved to stand next to Katherine and they’re both watching me. This is a test. How does a girlfriend react to their boyfriend when he’s just won a race?

  It’s time to find out.

  I push through the crowd of people, half of them wet bodies of the various swimmers. I see Carter ahead, smiling and laughing with his teammates. Anxiety consumes me. Do I just walk up? Do I insert myself like this? The questions pummel me as I stand frozen a few feet away. I’m about to turn and run when his dark eyes connect with mine and his eyebrow raises just the slightest. I can’t help but smile, knowing he’s thinking I’m ridiculous. He slaps one of the guys on the shoulder and heads my way.

  “Hey,” he says, gaze sweeping over my new outfit. “I like it.”

  “Thanks,” I shift on my feet. “Impressive swim.”

  A small smile tugs at his mouth. “You saw me?”

  “Of course, what else would a doting girlfriend do?”

  “Give me a celebratory hug?” he teases.

  “You’re very—” Shirtless? “uh, wet.”

  He takes a step closer. “I don’t think a doting girlfriend would care.”

  I hold up my hands. “Seriously, you’re wet and you’ll make me cold and what if I want to return this outfit?”

  He lunges for me, grabbing me with those ridiculously long arms. I try to dart away but there’s too many people around. I screech but he just pulls me to his surprisingly warm body where I hear the low rumble of laughter in his chest. My skin heats where his touches mine and I fight to squirm away, which only makes him hold me tighter.

  His laughter is infectious and I feel the smile breaking on my face. He eases his grip and looks down at me. “That probably did the trick.”

  “What?” I ask, kind of basking in the strength of his powerful arms.

  “Your nosy brother and Katherine haven’t kept their eyes off of us in two minutes.”

  “Right,” I say. “Good.”

  The announcer calls out a few numbers, none that make sense to me, but Carter tips his chin and releases me. “That’s me. I need to go line up.”

  “Okay.” I swallow, feeling a flurry of strange emotions. “Good luck.”

  He grabs my hand and squeezes. “Thanks.”

  He starts to walk away and I stand aimlessly for a moment in the crowd. He looks back over his shoulder and says, “Hey, Clarke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hang around after, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  A small grin turns his lips and he adds, “Oh, and definitely keep the outfit.”

  Maria wanders off toward the concession stand at the end of the meet. “Let me know if you need a ride,” she’d said.

  “Carter told me to wait for him, so I think I’m good.”

  “I bet you are.”

  I ignore her and focus on the last event. It’s the eighteen and under boys and both Carter and Atticus will be swimming on the same relay. From the prior races, it’s clear that Atticus is slightly slower than Carter, but combined they make an unbeatable team. Atticus goes first and instead of watching him as he completes his leg of the race, I can’t help but focus on Katherine. She’s watching him with such interest and devotion. It hurts and makes me feel guilty at the same time. When did that happen? How did she fall for him?

  Atticus hits the wall and the nex
t swimmer dives in and I see Carter offer my brother a hand to get out of the water. They seem to keep their behavior in check while swimming together, but I don’t know how long that will last with the game Carter and I are playing. If I have my way, things will get worse instead of better.

  Carter is the anchor of the relay, swimming last. He’s fastest and can recover more ground from the two weaker links in the middle. The crowd buzzes from a long night of heat, sweets, and sportsmanship, the cheers for Carter growing louder with each stroke. I push my way to the edge of the pool, entranced by the way he moves, how easy this comes to him and wondering why he’s always threatening to blow it all with his behavior. What makes him behave with such destruction?

  It’s then that I realize I really don’t know him that well at all.

  I wait by the diving board after the meet is over, waiting as Carter heads to the locker room to change. The pool clears out quickly, the parents with younger swimmers needing to get them home and to bed. I notice that Atticus is trailing behind Katherine, helping her clean up so she can leave. It’s a sweet gesture and I feel a lump in my throat.

  “Hey,” Carter says, walking up in clean, dry clothes including a soft-looking, faded, Academy Swim hoodie. His eyes shift to across the pool. “Are they bothering you?”

  I shrug. “When do they not?”

  He starts walking toward the exit and I follow. I’m surprised when he says, “It’s tradition to head down to the Creamery after the meet. Want to go?”

  Ice cream after a long, hot, kind-of-boring night? “That sounds good.”

  He smiles and as always it rattles me more than it should. We walk to the car and he opens the passenger side door, giving me a chance to get in. Once he’s in his seat I say, “You surprise me sometimes, Carter Haines.”

  “Oh yeah?” He cranks his engine. “How so?”

  “For someone that doesn’t date seriously, you know how to pull out all the stops. Opening the door for me. Doing all the right stuff.”

  “I’m not a barbarian.” He laughs.