I like Jake, and I don’t mind him knowing parts of me, at least the good parts. Still, I can’t believe I agreed to do this story swap with him. Two words circle around my brain: slippery slope.
“Something about me? Right. Well, I’m an only child, and my dad raised me.”
He swallows slowly and meets my eyes. “Did your mom pass away?”
“Oh, I didn’t know you got follow-up questions,” I tease to take the edge off. I’m never quite sure how the truth about my birth will go over with new people. A person’s politics are increasingly easy to read, but I don’t know the culture here well enough.
“Pretty please,” he jokingly begs.
“Fine,” I reply, acting as if I’m exasperated. “I never knew the woman who gave birth to me. My dad was gay. He always wanted a child, so he made an arrangement with a surrogate.”
Jake blinks a few times as he processes what I’ve just told him. “Oh wow, that’s something new for me.”
“Gay?” I ask, and my pulse races. I prepare myself to never speak to him again.
“No, not gay. Someone born from a surrogate. Was that hard for you at all?”
Woo, that was a close one. I let out a big breath. “No, not at all. My dad was the greatest guy. I had such an amazing childhood.”
Jake flinches at that, and I’m reminded that he probably didn’t have the same, based on the vibes I’ve been getting. “When did he pass away?” he asks, reading into all of my past-tense language about him.
“Three years ago, this May.”
“I’m sorry. Was it sudden?”
“Yes,” I gulp. “Massive heart attack.” I still struggle to talk about it.
He reaches across and places his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” I tell him and fiddle with the aluminum foil. “When did your dad pass away?”
Jake shifts on the blanket and glances over at the shop and back at me. “Fifteen years ago.”
“You were so young.”
“In terms of years, yes. But I was already quite mature. I had to grow up two years earlier when I was thirteen and Sam was born.”
“Sam is your half-brother, though?”
“Yeah. My dad and my mom, Brian and Lynn, they were like oil and water. He was significantly older than her. She was clearly just one of his hookups, but she got pregnant. They tried to make it work for the first ten years of my life, but he was always away, on tour, and he cheated on her endlessly. It was a mess. My mom cheated on him, too. It became abundantly clear that they only tried to stick it out because of me. I felt like such a burden. After they split up, I barely saw my dad. My mom fell into relationship after relationship, trying to make one stick. She got pregnant with Sam, and his dad didn’t bother sticking around at all.”
“Does your mom still live here?” I ask.
He shakes his head while peeling back more aluminum foil. “Nope. She actually met a great guy named Gus. They moved to the Big Island two years ago.”
“And she left Sam?” I ask, hoping that my judgment isn’t seeping through into my speech.
“Yeah, that’s what we all wanted,” he begins. “Sam didn’t want to leave his friends, and I could easily take care of him since I’d already been doing that for years.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask because there’s something I’ve wanted to know.
He doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second. “Anything,”
“How did your dad die?” I ask, and his gaze meets mine.
“Old blue finally got him,” he answers and swallows hard.
Without thinking, I lean in closer. “What do you mean?”
“He drowned.”
“Oh no, while surfing?”
“Yes,” he says, his voice on the edge of rough. “He was training on his own for the senior tour. That’s probably why they consider him to be such a legend. If he were just an old dude, fartin’ around town, hitting on tourists, they wouldn’t feel the same. He went out exactly the way he wanted.”
“Is that every professional surfer’s desire?”
“Not the sane ones,” he says and laughs a little. “I’d be happy to die at the ripe old age of ninety-three with my wife beside me.”
He’s got some soft edges to him and—dare I say it—a romantic side. His admission makes my heart sing. Now that I’m learning so much about him, I don’t want to stop. “Kaila mentioned that you used to be pro.”
“I did, but I gave it up a couple of years ago when my mom married Gus.”
“Gosh, that’s such a sacrifice,” I tell him.
He shrugs as if it wasn’t a big deal. My first thought is that he’s playing it off, but then I remember what he told me last week. His dream is to live here and do what he’s doing. “Well, I’d love to see you surf sometime.”
The smile on his face is adorable. “I surf in the late afternoons, just come on by.”
“I will,” I tell him and take the last bite of my burrito. It’s a messy one.
He bends at the hips and leans toward me. With the pad of his thumb, he wipes a little bit of salsa from the corner of my mouth and pauses there for a brief moment before running his thumb over my lips slowly. I can’t help myself. I open my mouth ever so slightly, giving him access. He slips his thumb in and I wrap my lips around him. I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his mouth forms a perfect O. He tastes good on my tongue, salty like the sea and a little spicy from the salsa.
I give him a little suck and then a little bite, which makes his O flatten out into a smile. “Audrey,” he whispers, and I wish it were Sara instead, but I don’t let that disappointment ruin this for me.
He pulls his thumb from my mouth and leans over further. I meet him halfway. His nose rubs mine as his hand goes to the back of my neck. Our lips align, and he whispers, “You drive me a little crazy, you know that?”
“Same,” I reply, and I’m so ready for us to make contact in three, two…
“Yo, Jake!” someone shouts.
We both startle. “Ignore him,” Jake whispers.
But I can’t, because I’m not a robot. I look over and see a younger, shorter, slimmer version of Jake with darker features coming our way. He’s got a surfboard under his arm.
“Yo, jackass,” he shouts again.
Jake drops his forehead to mine in a move similar to last week when we made out on the beach. “To be continued,” he says in his huskiest voice I’ve heard yet. “What do you want, turd?” Jake asks as he rises to his feet. “And why the hell aren’t you in school?”
“Mrs. Flores said I could go since I’m ahead in my assignments.”
“Right, right, right. I’ll be sure to call Desiree and thank her for being so flexible with your school time.”
Sam throws his arms into the air. “Come on man. It’s senior year. I’m graduating in a month. Nobody cares anymore.”
“I care,” Jake argues.
Watching the brothers argue is a delight. As much as I loved my upbringing, I desperately wanted a brother or sister. I’ve always enjoyed watching siblings go after one another.
“Dude, you dropped out of high school to go on the pro tour. You really want to talk about this?”
Jake looks over at me nervously, as if I’d somehow think less of him. I shake my head and smile to reassure him. “What do you want?” Jake asks his brother.
“I need some wax, bro.”
“Can you pay for it?”
“Come on,” he whines.
“You’re working here, all weekend. Got it?”
“Got it,” his little brother says and kicks some sand.
“You surfing with those guys?” Jake asks and nods his head in the direction, down the beach, to a bunch of teenage guys roughhousing each other.
Sam shrugs. “Yeah, what of it?”
Jake looks concerned but doesn’t say anything more on the topic. “This is Audrey, by the way. Audrey, this is my punk-ass brother Sam.”
&nbs
p; He flicks his chin up at me, looks right at my chest, and blurts out, “Nice to meet ya.”
“Likewise,” I say, and suppress a giggle.
Jake tosses him a new package of wax and Sam takes off down the beach. Jake simply shakes his head and looks back at me. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry, he’s cute,” I reply.
“Cute? Right. I don’t think I’d use that word.”
“You love him so much, and I think it’s adorable.”
“Adorable? Yay,” he says sarcastically.
“I didn’t say adorable. I said manly.”
He scoffs and shakes his head.
Now that I’ve met his brother and seen them interact, I figure it’s worth getting to the bottom of the sacrifice he made. “Do you miss being a pro?”
“Sometimes,” he answers and pushes some sand around with his thumb. “Being on the circuit is hard and you’re constantly hustling for sponsorships. I’d rather surf for me. That’s what I discovered.”
“I bet you got to travel a lot.”
“A lot is an understatement. I spent a season in Australia. That was amazing. The surfing was outstanding, and I met some lifelong friends there.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep, like my friend Reid. Man, that guy loved to stir up fights. I was constantly pulling him off dudes he had no business fighting.”
“Jesus. What happened to that guy?”
“He moved back to London and became an investment banker.”
My mouth drops open. “Well, that’s not how I expected that story to end.”
Jake laughs. “Yeah, he’s totally straitlaced and boring these days.”
“Would you ever trade this all in for a desk job?” I ask because I can’t picture that for even a second.
“What do you think, newbie?” he says and takes hold of my hand. The sweetness of it makes my heart flutter.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. When Sam graduates, do you think you’ll start up again or move somewhere else?”
“Manalua is my home. I’m settled.”
“That’s so cool,” I tell him, and I feel a little envious. I want to be settled, too. Manalua must be pretty special. There’s a whole crowd of people heading our way with their beach gear in tow. “Looks like you’ve got some customers. I’m going to head out. Thanks for lunch and for the lesson and for story time.”
“You’re welcome, newbie. When do you want me to come by to put together your grill?”
“It’s being delivered tomorrow afternoon, so like five?”
“I’ll be there,” he says and squeezes my hand.
I take off down the beach a little way, lay my towel out, slather on my eighth coat of sunscreen, and pull out one of the new books I picked up this week. I’ve missed reading since my life got so hairy back in Chicago. It’s the first time I’ve been able to let myself go in fiction since that shit went down.
In between chapters, I look out at the ocean and watch surfers of all skill sets. The waves get bigger as the afternoon goes on. I happen to spot Jake in the distance, with his board under his arm, entering the water. I close up my book and watch as he paddles out into the water and surfs like nothing I have ever seen. He’s powerful but so damn graceful as he commands the sea. Maybe I had this all wrong. He’s not Thor. He’s Poseidon.
Jake
It started innocently enough. Well, maybe innocent isn’t exactly the right word. I wanted to find a photo of Audrey. Something to remind me about this gift from across the Pacific. So I did a little searching and came up with a lot of information about various Audrey Logans across the Midwest, but not a bit about her.
So, I took it a step further and checked for her on all the social media sites I know of, and that didn’t work out, either. She’s a ghost. Well, that’s not true, even a ghost would have a death certificate.
I can’t decide if I want to ask her about it or not when I see her later. Unfortunately, I have too much time to contemplate that decision because today is dragging like a sea turtle through the sand. Once four o’clock rolls around, I can’t wait any longer. I grab my toolbox, hop in my truck, go to the liquor store to buy a six-pack of that IPA she liked at the bonfire, and go straight over to her place.
I’m one hundred percent dismayed when I see Phil’s delivery truck still parked in her driveway.
“Shit,” I grunt. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s helping her put it together, because Phil’s a nice guy and he’s got a soft spot for pretty girls. I shift into park and hop out. It is what it is. I don’t think Audrey’s going to kick me out if there’s nothing left for me to do, so I leave my toolbox behind.
Sure enough, when I walk around to the back of the cottage, I find them together, contorted in odd body positions around the grill.
“Hey, Jake,” Phil says. The old geezer appears to be enjoying every moment of this.
Audrey turns her head to look at me from between her legs. It’s quite a view. “Jake, hi. You’re just in time. We need an extra set of hands.”
Half a dozen dirty jokes run through my mind, but that’s just my coping mechanism. I’m feeling a little bit miffed that I didn’t get to be the one to play Twister with Audrey, but pouting is for babies, and Audrey doesn’t seem like the type to put up with possessive jerks. I suck it up and join in. We get the grill put together pretty quickly, and I offer Phil a beer.
“No thanks. I’m off the stuff,” he says. “Unless it’s gluten-free.”
“You’re off gluten?” I ask, doubting every word of that.
“It’s terrible for you, man.”
I shake my head and give him a good pat on the back.
Phil takes off, and that leaves the two of us on our own. I suddenly feel like a teenager again, hanging out with a girl when her parents aren’t home. Every bit of me is wired.
“So, do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Pot roast?” I tease.
“Not quite, check it out,” she says, and I follow her into the house. I look around the place as if it will somehow reveal something more about her, but I’m quickly reminded that it’s just a vacation rental. There’s nothing personal that sticks out, except for a few romance novels stacked on the coffee table.
I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle. I guess my most pressing question—that she did not sufficiently answer when I asked—is why she picked up and moved here with not a whole lot of stuff.
“So,” she starts when we get into the tidy kitchen. “I kind of went overboard. Don’t laugh.” She points a finger in my direction.
I put up my hands in defense. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She opens the fridge and starts to pull out multiple packages of meat. There’s chicken, pork, steak, ribs. Pounds of it.
“All for me?” I ask, and I suppose I am laughing at her.
“I was so excited about getting the grill that I went a little nuts. I’ve never had a grill before.”
“You haven’t? Show me your passport,” I tease.
She twists toward me. “What? Why?
“So I can see if you’re American.”
A small laugh, maybe one of relief, escapes her. “Oh. I guess we never quite had the right space for one,” she explains.
“Should I just pick a meat?”
She walks around the kitchen island to me and places her hands on my hips. It takes a lot of willpower to stay still and listen to what she has to say and not scoop her up into my arms and kiss her. “Well, I was wondering what you’d think about calling some of those nice people I met at the bonfire. Maybe they can come over and we can cook for them?”
I wrap my arms around her waist. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re just using me for my connections.”
“Nailed it,” she says.
Ten. And I’d do pretty much anything for her when she smiles like that at me.
Audrey’s grill is deluxe. That much Hideo, Manny, Tua, Lin’s boyfriend, and I agree. How to cook with it is a whole different s
tory. I keep saying we should just defer to Manny on all things food, but Lin’s boyfriend and Hideo have strong opinions, particularly on the ribs. Tua is contrary just for sport.
Audrey, Aimi, Kaila, and Lin don’t seem too bothered by it. Somebody brought margarita fixings, and so the ladies have been caught up in that business and laughing way too much at us men.
It’s a little bit of us versus them, and I’m not going to lie, I like having an opposing half on the other side. She keeps giving me these fucking sexy eyes when we look at each other from across the way. Every time it happens, I curse under my breath that I agreed to invite a whole bunch of people over that are not the type to leave before midnight.
Finally, Manny wrestles away the barbecue tongs away from Hideo and threatens to never serve him again from his food truck if he doesn’t walk away. It works. Lin’s boyfriend doesn’t budge at first until Kaila gets wind of it.
“Lin, get your boyfriend to back off that grill. I’m starving!”
Lin, who’s usually staring at her phone for the majority of her waking hours, looks up and says, “Darren.”
Darren.
With that one word, the dolt backs down.
“Hideo, put on some music,” Aimi orders, and he goes to get his gear from the car. “Tua, go do whatever it is that you do that I don’t know about.”
“It’s medicinal, Chief, I swear.”
I catch Audrey’s head snap up toward Aimi. Did she not know that Aimi is the chief of police? Apparently not.
“Right, I’m sure you’ve got a prescription,” Aimi says. “Don’t answer that; I don’t want to know.”
Manny gets to work at the grill, and I stand by to assist. “Teach me everything,” I tell him because I want to be able to cook for Audrey sometime when it’s just the two of us.
An hour later, we’re finally sitting down to eat on the back patio and watching the sun start its incredible descent. Audrey pays particular attention to the sunset and it makes me appreciate it so much more. I think about how lucky I am that this is my home, and I wonder if she feels the same. I hope she does, too, and considers staying forever.
Between The Waves Page 5
