He was all too aware of the fact that she had a friend.
Lo Fredericks and Spencer Clementine were friends. And Spencer Clementine was the arch nemesis of his brother. Which made any kind of attraction for Lo difficult.
“I bet I could get you a hookup,” Steve oozed his over confidence. Brady reached out and gripped the blond surfer’s arm just as he started to walk in that direction.
“Nah, man, let’s pack it up and head home. We told Kip we’d have the living room clean before he got home tonight.”
Steve’s eyes remained trained on the girls behind Brady but he nodded grudgingly. Which was great because the absolute last thing Brady needed right at that moment was Steve walking over and introducing himself to the girl that Brady was bound and determined to get out of his head.
It wasn’t Steve’s fault. Not really. Well, at least, Brady didn’t think it was. Who knew where Steve really came from and what he’d been through to get him to this point in life? A lot of it may very well be Steve’s fault.
But in this case, this specific scenario, it wasn’t Steve’s fault. Again, not entirely, but perhaps partially.
He would go over and be obnoxious and Brady would have to try to get him to close his mouth. Which had always proved difficult when he’d managed to fit both of his size twelve feet into his overwhelmingly large mouth. Still, Brady would have to save his friend. Which would draw attention to Brady. And that’s what he needed to avoid.
In fact, the whole point of driving up to La Jolla had been to avoid this exact scenario. Which begged the question, what the hell was she doing here anyway?
“You know that pizza being upside down on the couch wasn’t me,” Steve said, picking up his t-shirt from the sand and tugging it over his tousled blond locks and back onto his torso.
“Yeah?” Brady asked with an arch in his eyebrow and his tone as he started walking towards the parking lot, carefully keeping his back to the woman he was pretending like he didn’t know. “Who was it?”
Steve shrugged. “It was a dog.”
Brady stopped walking and stared at his friend. Steve held his gaze without flinching. “A dog.”
Steve inhaled and sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. See? This is why I don’t tell you the good stuff.”
Brady frowned as he tried to understand that statement.
“Are you coming or what, Brady?”
He jerked his head up to see that Steve had continued on without him and was nearly to the car. And shouting, don’t forget the part where he was shouting. Brady pressed his lips together and took long slow steps the rest of the way.
Don’t run, you’ll attract attention. Don’t be afraid. Fear has a smell. Don’t turn around and look. You don’t need to know if she heard or saw or if she’s still there.
Brady had never been good at listening to his inner voice. He pulled the handle up on his silver Subaru and casually lifted his eyes.
Translucent green tangled with sunlight and desire and Brady froze. A hundred yards away, surrounded by people, and she was all he could see.
This did not bode well for Brady and his midnight conviction to stay away from her.
It was a stupid conviction anyway.
He let his eyes skate through her, as if she was just another person. No recognition, no acknowledgment. She was just another beautiful woman. He lived in California, he was surrounded by them.
He took a deep breath, telling himself he was satisfied with that lie. Then ducked into the car and out of her sight.
Stubborn Hearts Page 25
