by Piper Lawson
“But?”
“But the thing is, when my dad says I fucked up, he’s not completely wrong. I spent money I shouldn’t have staying on tour.”
“How much money,” I asked, wary.
“A lot,” he admitted. “Coming out the other side I had zero prospects. I started college a year late. Even then, it was hard to get myself to graduation. Every day I spend inside with books or a computer feels soul crushing.”
“Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to in order to get what you want.”
“It sucks,” he said.
“I don’t know about that. I think it makes it sweeter when you do get what you want. I mean, if after a few weeks or months you don’t want it anymore, maybe it didn’t matter enough.”
Kent’s gaze found mine again and his expression relaxed a degree. “I’ve never thought of that before.”
“Because you’re the king of carpe diem.” The words were out before my brain caught up.
But he didn’t look offended, just intrigued. “What’s that mean?”
“‘Seize the day’.”
“Well, yeah.” The grin came back. “You add enough days together, that’s your life, Supergirl.”
It was my turn to be left blinking. He had this way of making things seem so simple, but I’d never considered it before. Was I living the way I wanted to? If I added enough days together, would I be satisfied with what I’d done?
When we emerged from the tent, the sun had partially set. A few people were surfing, and a few dozen walked the pier.
“You driving back to Jordan and Ethan’s now?” I asked him.
“I have to do something first. Every day since I’ve come to California, I go down to the water.” He cocked his head, turning something over in his mind. “Come with me.”
It was my turn to hesitate. But he had me trapped in his attention, that clear sky gaze promising something I’d never experienced.
“Sure.” The word was half-whispered but his mouth curved at the corner and I knew he heard me.
I walked next to him, my sandals still in my hands and the sand squishing between my toes.
It felt personal, which was crazy since we were two people walking on a public beach. But it was the invitation, that he’d let me into his ritual, that affected me.
At the water’s edge Kent took a step into the ocean, then two. The waves lapped at his ankles. He tossed a look over his shoulder, and already the tension had started to seep from him. “When you’re riding, especially here, you’d swear it’s alive. Just over the pier—” he pointed “—there’s this trench. If you’re carving out past that, it dies on you. But it picks back up on the other side. And the surf at HB is totally influenced by Catalina. It’s small barrel, not heavy like pipe, but technical as anything anywhere.” He paused, looking out over the horizon. “It won’t kill you, but it’ll make a fool out of you.”
I had no idea what a barrel was—or a pipe, for that matter—but hearing him describe it had me wanting to listen to him forever.
I was distracted enough that when a dark object flew past my waist, I jumped.
Kent’s shirt lay in the sand behind me.
Jesus. How is it possible I’ve known this guy for more than a year and he’s only recently adopted this ‘permanently half-naked’ thing?
Even in the half-darkness, the light dancing from the middle and end of the pier, his hard body had me wondering what it would be like to know it better.
The indentations of his shoulders, pecs, and abs, were a rare kind of fascinating.
I had the random urge to trace a finger along them.
Or my tongue.
When my gaze finally met his, a faint smile stretched across his face. “Anytime, Dal.”
He backed into the water and I took a step toward him. The waves lapped at my ankles and his knees, flirting with the edge of his board shorts.
“You’re going to get—” The next wave rose and crashed against his skin above the waistband of his shorts, making me wish I was closer so I could see the water droplets cling to his body. “—soaked,” I finished lamely.
“Come on.” His voice was low, confident.
I grabbed the hem of my dress with my free hand and held it up around the tops of my thighs. “I have no fall clothes, no guts, and, since I fired Jason this morning, no staff,” I grunted.
A delighted laugh had me looking up. “You fired Jason?”
I couldn’t help the smile pulling at my lips. Cool sensations licked at my knees.
Because apparently I’d moved closer.
“I remembered what you said yesterday. About being a badass.” Another step. “I mean, I’m not going to buy a motorcycle and pierce my…whatever constitutes a rebellious piercing these days. But yes. I want to be independent. Free. Brave.”
The water grazed the top of his board shorts when it rolled in. Waiting.
A shiver ran through me and I glanced down at my dress. The hem hit partway down my thighs, and now the waves started to suck at the white fabric.
I stopped in front of him. The water was cool, but warmer than I’d expected. A wave crashed on us and I grabbed for his shoulders. His hands found my waist.
I could pretend we weren’t in LA, that the lights of the pier, the coast, were far away. Work and interviews and photographers ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the licking of the waves at my skin, pushing Kent and I together and pulling us apart.
His face tilted down at me. “You can’t be afraid out here, Dal. It’s like you’re connected to everything, and everything moves through you.”
Kent’s voice was as hypnotic as the sound of the ocean. I wanted to cling to him, the only familiar thing in this place, even as a new feeling stirred inside me.
The next wave knocked me over. I sucked in sea water, coughed it out while he steadied me. “Okay, that’s enough temptation for today,” I said, catching my breath.
My clothes were soaked and probably see-through. But he motioned me closer.
“You’re missing the best part. Bend your knees.”
I hesitated, but eventually I complied.
I started to float. Panic took me over, but Kent’s strong arm wrapped around my waist, his other under my head. “I’ve got you. Close your eyes.”
It felt dumb for a second. Then I relaxed into his hands, his comforting warmth. The strength of his arms. The hardness of his body, the water carrying us together and away again in a way I suddenly welcomed.
I was deaf, the water filling my ears with a dull fullness that provided glimpses of the world around me when I turned my head to the side.
With the passing seconds, my mind began to bob and drift, like a buoy tethered loosely below the water.
An idea clicked into place.
“Hey,” I exclaimed, splashing until I could get my feet under me. “You know people will love your boards when they try them, right? You just need to reach those people.”
Kent’s jaw ticked. “You want me to dress like a surfboard and walk up and down the beach.”
I stifled the laugh as I reached down to adjust the dress, now soaked and sticking to my thighs. “No.” I was getting excited now. “The shipment we unloaded yesterday was all summer clothes, so I need to do something to make the store look great fast and stand out for the photographer. What if we put some of your boards in Travesty? It’ll help the store, and I’ll see if you can get the license to use some of the shots to promote your boards. Worst case, I’ll make sure you get credited in the article. It comes out in a few months.”
He cringed. “Dal, I don’t have a few months.”
“You have to,” I countered. “Business is a long game, Kent. You’re not going to have a following overnight, even if your boards also do laundry and walk dogs and make creme brûlée.”
He snorted, glancing past me toward the shore. “What the hell. Yes.”
I was grateful he couldn’t see me flush in the half-light. Kent smelled like mint and
the ocean, and the combination was doing weird things to my brain. “This might actually save both our asses.”
His mouth curved in a half-smile. “Saving your ass is a worthy cause. I’d hate to see anything happen to it,” he murmured, his breath light on my face.
My gaze dropped to the square jaw with the slightest hint of stubble. It would be rough on my face. Even rougher on my thighs.
And holy hell, I wasn’t sure where that thought had come from.
But I wanted it.
I felt my body sway toward him.
“I can bring them by tomorrow,” Kent said.
“Huh?”
“The boards.”
His voice had cooled off and I blinked. “Right. Great.”
Just when I thought I could keep a handle on the Daydream-Porn box of Kent, it opened spontaneously and attacked me.
We picked our way toward the beach, the ocean sucking at my dress and making the fabric stick hopelessly to my legs. The sounds of the beach filled the void between us.
“I looked up American Pie,” I said as I wrung out my hair, needing to break the silence.
Kent followed the movement with his gaze. “And?”
“And gah.” I reached for my sandals as he grabbed his shirt, tugging it over his head and hiding that gorgeous body. “You think I did…that…with school property?”
“The word is ‘masturbate,’ Dal. Get off. DIY.” He shook out his hair like a dog before straightening. The look of intense curiosity on his face made me flush. “I’ve never seen someone so weirded out talking about sex.”
“It’s not something people go around talking about,” I informed him.
“Really, Miss Texas?”
I was about to protest that the crown I’d competed for—and missed—was about five tiers below that when Kent stepped closer. He reached out, twirling a piece of wet hair around his finger. Goosebumps formed on my arms.
“What if they do,” he murmured, the challenge in his gaze making me swallow, “and this is just one more thing you’re afraid of?”
I stared back at him, helpless to do anything else and trapped by his attention.
Finally, Kent ducked to grab his sandals off the beach, banging them together to get the sand off.
My hands formed little fists on the damp waist of my dress.
“How do you do that?” I asked, unable to hold it in any longer. “You have this confidence, like you ask anyone for anything and make it sound totally normal.”
He rounded on me. “Sex is normal, Dal. It’s a human function. Not something to be revered, or afraid of.”
“I thought it was about love.”
“Love.” Kent’s flat voice was skeptical, not harsh, but it made me flinch anyway.
I summoned my lady balls. “Yes! No little girl grows up dreaming about stripping down in front of some guy she might not know from Adam on the street. Of hearing the words she’s always wanted from a voice she won’t remember a year from now.” I took a breath. “No woman wants to be interchangeable, Kent. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why…”
“Why what.”
“Why it’s not better. Not satisfying. Why it never ends well.”
I sucked in a breath. I wasn’t sure why I was accusing him. But suddenly I was irritated at all of mankind, and he was the only one here to bear the brunt of it on behalf of every biped with a penis.
Kent stilled. “I feel like we stopped talking hypotheticals a while ago. Play this out for me, Supergirl. What’d he do to you?”
Dammit. How could he seem so oblivious one second and so intuitive the next?
“He was into things I wasn’t,” I said finally. “He got them from someone else.”
His casualness fell away, replaced with a deliberateness that narrowed to the pinpoint of his gaze. “Not all guys are like that, Dahlia.”
Kent looked like he was going to say something more, but in the end he just plucked my sandals from my hands and started toward the parking lot.
6
Kent
It was barely six am when I dropped into the pocket on my first wave, the ocean wrapping around me, under me. I waited for it to carry me off—my body and my mind.
I took advantage of the shortboard, my feet steady on the freshly waxed deck as I carved up the next wave. I needed to feel my body work. To burn off the frustrations of the week, including learning last night on the way back to Jordan’s that Seth had scratched from the Open and wouldn’t be coming at all.
Which put me back at square one. No business, no money, no options.
On my way back up the beach, I watched the pros warm up. Since I’d stopped competing on account of school, I’d lost track of some of the names.
One woman took a first wave with striking style before struggling with the second. I watched her stride out of the water, board dripping under her arm.
“You could put another two fins on there,” I commented as she passed. “Forecast says there’s a combo swell later today, and that’ll give you better turns in your heat.”
She raised a brow. “Do I look like I need a guy to tell me how to ride?” But her gaze landed on my board. “What is that?”
“Four fins. Domed deck. Rails specifically designed for SoCal break.” Her head, covered in dark hair chopped to her chin, bent as she looked it over. “I have a few you could take a look at, if you want. I’m Kent.”
“Tasha,” she said. Then shrugged. “What the hell. I’ve got time.”
She came to my tent and I showed her my stock.
“You could start with fins. But this is what I’d really recommend.” I pulled out the board. I held my breath as she looked it over, then the one next to it.
“I’ll try it out this afternoon and let you know what I think.” She took my number and texted me hers, and my chest loosened a degree. “You’re not from around here.”
“Idaho,” I offered. “Moved to San Diego for school. You?” I unlocked the chest of drawers I’d brought, rummaging through the fins for the ones I had in mind.
“North shore. Born and raised.”
“You surf pipe.”
“I have a death wish.” I glanced over my shoulder to see her mouth relaxed into a smile, her shoulders rounding as she shifted to lean an arm on one of the boards. “You know it?”
“Competed juniors three years before I stopped for college.”
I shut the drawer, turned, and held up the fins.
“Huh.” Tasha nodded thoughtfully. Surfing the baddest waves in the world creates the kind of mutual respect of the highest order.
“I can put ‘em on for you.”
“I’m okay.” She took the fins from me. Her gaze narrowed. “But there is one more thing you can do. What do you do for fun around here? My crew’s wondering where to unwind tonight.”
“There’re a few places down on Main Street. Just follow the crowds. You want to get away from them… It’s going to be hard this week, but I know some options.” I named them.
“Thanks. I’ll drop this off—” she patted the board under her arm “—then come back for that one.” Tasha tucked the fins under one arm and reached to tug at the neckline of her rash guard. “You should come out with us. Tonight, I mean.”
I should say yes. I’d been wound tight the past few days. Plus, she was a potential client, and I had zero of those.
But Dal’s face rose in the back of my mind.
“I have to run an errand tonight. Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay.” With a nod and a last look, she turned and left.
I sent off a text.
Kent: Hope you’re ready for your photoshoot
Dots appeared almost immediately.
Dal: If by ready you mean I have nothing in the store? Then yes. So ready.
I chuckled.
Dal: You bringing some boards by the store tonight?
* * *
Kent: I can be there at seven
* * *
Dal: Great. Kyla will be here. She
can let you in by the loading dock. I’ll get everything set up in the morning.
I ignored the disappointment. I was dropping off boards. It wasn’t meant to be an excuse to spend time with her.
Still, my fingers flew over the keypad.
Kent: What are you doing tonight?
* * *
Dal: Mac and I are watching a movie.
The response was instantaneous.
But more dots appeared, and whatever message was about to follow was taking its sweet time.
I shifted on my feet.
Dal: You want to join?
I looked up from the phone, my gaze running over the surf store.
Did I want to watch a movie with Dal, even if her crazy roommate was around?
Yes.
Did I want an excuse to shift closer, feel her body brush against mine like it had standing in the ocean last night?
Also yes.
Which was a problem. Since I’d arrived yesterday, I’d caught myself looking longer at her smile. Fascinated by the bubbly voice that seemed to catch when she was uncomfortable. The way she played with her hair when she was distracted, which had tempted me enough to lean in and do the same last night.
That’s when I shut it down.
There was a line I couldn’t cross, especially after what she’d told me about her prick of an ex.
She’d been hurt, I could see it in every part of her. She was stronger than she knew, but she was vulnerable too.
I thought it was about love.
Like me, Dal hadn’t always had life handed to her. But the fact that she was still so idealistic, that she refused to give into the pressure of this instant gratification world we lived in…
That, I could respect the hell out of.
Last night in the ocean when I hadn’t been thinking about how fucking sweet she was, there’d been a moment. A moment that wasn’t about us, but about her standing on her own.
That was what I could give her.
It was all I would give her.
