Brazen Steele: Brazen Series Book 2

by Dean, Ali

  “Well, you can deny being in a relationship with either one, but unless you manage to avoid being pictured with either one of them for a while, I don’t see the questions and speculation dying down. And since you’re only going to be competing in more high-profile contests and gaining more attention, I don’t think the wondering will stop until the public gets an answer.”

  “And if we tell them it’s Beck I’m with?”

  “The contract won’t let you do that. I’ve discussed this with Beck. They will demand a break-up, or at least the appearance of one. So that’s one option. If he breaches the contract and refuses to do that, he may be able to pay monetary damages to settle a legal battle before it gets out of hand. Given the show won’t air until next year, there’s a possibility they won’t want to settle. They might even want to turn it into a public spectacle to garner attention. It’s difficult to know how they will respond, but it’s very risky.”

  “What about trying to negotiate to modify the contract?” Jordan pushes. “Beck mentioned that might be an option.”

  “Also risky. We could threaten to pull out entirely and not participate in filming at all if they don’t modify the relationship clause, but again, monetary consequences aren’t the only ones to consider here. Beck’s reputation is at stake as well. And Brazen’s,” she adds, making it impossible for me to dismiss.

  “And Jordan’s,” Summer says quietly. Yes, and Jordan’s. I don’t know what the recent messages from the troll accounts have said, but Summer told me the early ones called Jordan a slut and a skank. Not particularly original and far from justified, but if we play this wrong, those sentiments might not be limited to a couple of random outliers.

  I can’t listen to this anymore. “All right,” I tell Vienna. “We all need to take some time to think about this and decide what to do. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I understand, but you need to make a decision soon, Beck, okay?”

  “I know.”

  After the call ends, we eat sweet potato pancakes in silence. I can’t look at anyone as I process what Vienna advised. We give no answer or deny we’re together, and Jordan gets slaughtered by the razzleydazzles and bubblerollies of the world. We go public about being together, and we all risk getting our reputations slaughtered by Shred Live. I don’t exactly want to go bankrupt either, but if it could guarantee getting out of this unscathed, I would. Too bad there’s no guarantee, not even good odds.

  Or, we take Vienna’s advice. Just the thought of letting the world believe Jordan’s with someone other than me makes it difficult to swallow my favorite breakfast. I could pull it off for a few minutes, maybe an hour, and survive. But an entire year? And then what? We pretend they break up and she gets with me? That wouldn’t exactly be good for our reputations either. Fuck it. No. I can’t do it.

  Griff finally speaks, as if he’s been reading my mind. “We could say we’re together for like two weeks, and then come back and say we’re better as friends and break it off. That would answer the questions brewing and then it would be done.”

  I finally lift my eyes from my plate and look at my best friend of twenty years. He’s serious. “But it’s up to you guys. I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “Thanks Griff,” Jordan says, and I finally look at her. I’m standing in the corner of the kitchen as I eat, and she’s on the opposite end sitting at the kitchen counter. She feels miles away. I’ve got no idea what’s going through her head right now.

  “I think Beck and I need some time alone to talk it out. Beck, come on.” She puts down her fork, walks around the island, and takes my plate out of my hand. After putting it on the counter, she leads me to our bedroom.

  As soon as the door shuts, her arms are around my neck. “Let’s take that shower, yeah? And then can I have that rub-down you mentioned?”

  She’s already pulling my shirt over my head, and then tugging down my shorts. All I can do is nod, the lump in my throat growing bigger by the second. I love this woman so hard. It doesn’t seem like I could love her more, but with each day, each moment it gets bigger, stronger. No one warned me love could grow this way, but I’m witnessing it, experiencing it right this instant as she takes off her own clothes, one item at a time, without breaking my gaze. It’s painful though, because I know whatever path we choose, it’s going to hurt her. I know for sure which one will hurt me most, but I’ll do it, if it’s the best one for Jordan.

  Jordan

  Beck doesn’t wait until we’re in the shower. He doesn’t even make it to the bed. Beck makes love to me right there on his bedroom floor. No words are spoken between us, and we’re almost silent, with the others just on the other side of the door. It’s passionate, and quick, but Beck’s eyes and body and hands show me all I need to know. Between us, together, with no one else around, there’s nothing to question. There’s nothing to be uncertain or confused about. And that’s something we need to remember, cherish, and hold on to, no matter what happens next.

  In the shower, we laugh about the rug burn on my knees, and that I can’t wear shorts in front of Naomi or she’ll be scandalized. We talk about how we’ll have to skip skateboarding at a park today because we’ve got to work on research papers. And when we exchange massages on Beck’s bed afterward, we talk about competition schedules next year. The massages inevitably lead to more, and through it all we don’t mention the elephant in the room.

  I don’t want to think about it.

  I can feel Beck watching me as I get dressed. “Hey.” He reaches for the belt loops on my jeans and pulls me to him. Beck zips and buttons me. “You said we needed to talk about this alone. And I agree. Are you ready to talk now?”

  I reach down and grab my shirt, pulling it over my head. “No.” He lets me go as I crouch to slip on my socks and shoes.

  “Jordan.”

  He doesn’t continue, and I look at him. I don’t want to talk about it, any of it. Can’t we just forget that part of the morning happened and go on with our day remembering the rest of it, which was perfect? I try to communicate this with my eyes, and maybe he sees my plea, because his smile is sad when he shakes his head.

  “You heard Vienna, Jordan. We need to make a decision. And it’s going to be one we make together.”

  “I’ve got to write a twelve-page research paper by tomorrow night and all I’ve got is the outline.”

  Beck’s blue eyes see right through me. I’m not lying, but it’s the same paper I’ve been preparing to write for a week now. At this point, it’s ready to go, all I need is a solid few uninterrupted hours to bang it out. Our last classes were on Friday, so I’ve got nothing else to do in the next thirty-six hours but write this thing. I could spare a few minutes to talk with Beck.

  “All right,” he says patiently. “Come on, did you get enough breakfast?” He holds the door open and I check my watch. It’s after 10 AM now.

  “I’ll take a couple more pancakes and a donut if there’s any left.” I want to go straight to the library and get to work without interruption. Best to have a full tummy so I don’t have to break for lunch soon.

  Griff, Summer and Naomi are gone, but Taylor and Ellie are picking through the box of donuts. “Hey guys, these up for grabs?” Taylor asks.

  “Go for it.” There’s a stack of pancakes on a plate on the island too, and after taking a few from the pile to hand to me, Beck pushes them toward his roommate. “You can finish these up too.”

  “Sweet, thanks man. Hey, nice wedding photos by the way. You guys clean up nice.”

  Beck and I share a look. Leave it to Taylor to either be oblivious, or pretend to be oblivious, to the potential catastrophe from those photos.

  “Thanks,” I manage to answer as I throw our pancakes in the microwave.

  Ellie’s right behind me when I turn around. “You okay?” she asks.

  I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t.

  “Yeah, it’s whatever.” I shrug. “We’ll deal. I’m more stressed about writing a research pap
er that counts for eighty percent of my grade this semester.”

  “We’ll have dinner tonight with the girls,” she says, and I know it’s her way of telling me she’s not letting me pretend to brush this off. “Where do you want to go?”

  It’s like she already knows I’m planning to pull out, trying to butter me up by letting me pick the restaurant. “I can’t tonight, Ellie. I’m just going to eat a sandwich at the library or something.” I don’t even apologize for skipping, even though I missed last Sunday’s dinner too, and I’ve barely seen the girls this week.

  Ellie doesn’t respond, but it’s not annoyance I sense from her, it’s concern. And that makes me even more eager to escape. The microwave beeps and I wolf down the pancakes as the guys, thankfully, talk about something totally unrelated to the wedding pictures. Taylor’s trying Brazen’s new men’s skateboard, and they compare notes on how it rides.

  I’m packing up my books that are piled up in the living room area when Beck comes up behind me. “You don’t want to study here?”

  “Nah, I’ll be more focused at the library.”

  “Okay, hang on, let me get my stuff. I’ll be ready in a minute.” He turns to go to his room.

  “Beck.” He glances over his shoulder. “I need to write this paper alone.” It has nothing to do with the paper and we both know it. My entire body is itching to get out of here, to get away from the impending discussion of legal disputes, fake-dating my boyfriend’s best friend, and trolls harassing me on the internet. It’s all suffocating me right now, and I need space.

  “It’s not you. It’s not us. I just need to deal with school right now, okay?” Except I’m lying to him, and myself. It’s him and us that I’m escaping right now, and this paper is a convenient excuse.

  Beck doesn’t push it though. “Call me later, then? As soon as this paper’s done, I want to talk about everything.”

  I nod, even though I don’t want to talk about any of it. Ever.

  Beck stands still as I walk by and pause to kiss him on the cheek. It’s an apology kiss for blocking him out. If only there was a kiss that erased the parts of the outside world I don’t want to deal with, one that let us experience only the good stuff. But that kind of kiss is only in fairy tales, and in fairy tales, it’s always clear what the happy ending will look like. In our story, there’s no solution that will solve all this. Except ignoring it. For now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Beck

  I try to spend a few hours studying after Jordan leaves, but concentrating on negotiation and dispute resolution in global business right now is tough. I’ve got dinner tonight with my family, and I’m not expecting to hear from Jordan until later anyway, so I decide to head to Callaway early to hit Airwalk for a bit beforehand. Griff’s on his computer at the kitchen table when I come out of my bedroom. “Headed to Airwalk before family dinner. Want to come?”

  “What’s your mom making?”

  “Sure, you can come to dinner too.” He knows he’s got an open invitation any time, but that I was talking about skating together.

  “I hope it’s enchiladas. Haven’t had those in a while. Or maybe pork green chili.” He’s already closing his laptop down.

  “Dude, dinner’s not for a few hours. Chill.”

  “Already skated with the girls this morning and should probably work, but I’ll get back to it tonight.”

  We drive to Callaway in easy conversation, shooting the shit about everything from the skateboard world rankings to our little tagalong Taylor turning into a fairly mature adult right before our eyes. This is what I love about Griff. There’s a looming possibility he might fake date the first girl I’ve fallen in love with, yet our friendship isn’t shaken. In some ways, I can say the same about me and Jordan. We’re solid, and this morning, we were totally good when it was just the two of us. But it’s different too, because we’ve got to make a decision, and I know Jordan doesn’t want to.

  “Hey, look who it is,” Griff says as we pull up to Airwalk.

  The park is pretty busy, but I spot who he’s talking about immediately. Moses Roan commands attention as he zooms across the park, up a ramp, and jumps over an upside-down trash can.

  “You ever talk to Moses about partnering with Brazen?”

  “No, but maybe I should, huh?”

  “He’s hot right now. I’m sure he’s got plenty of sponsors and it’d be tough to compete with them. But maybe it’s worth putting it out there. Who knows, maybe by the time Shred Live goes on air, you’ll be in a position to compete with his current sponsors.”

  “He’s a good one, Moses. Happy he’ll be on the show with you. At least you know you’ve got one solid dude.”

  “There are a few more who might be cool too, just don’t know them well enough yet.”

  “I like your optimism, man.” We both know it’s more like wishful thinking. While it’s true I don’t know most of the cast on a personal level, from what I do know, they weren’t selected based on integrity of character. Some aren’t even on the radar in the world rankings, but they’ve got big followings for other reasons. There’s a former Victoria’s secret model who skateboards almost exclusively in a bikini. Another is a dude who got a bronze medal in the Olympics for gymnastics, then quit for a shoulder injury. He’s been talking smack about how easy it will be for him to rise to the same level in skateboarding. So while I don’t really know all these people well, the vibe I get from a glance at their social media doesn’t really scream humble. They are the opposite of Jordan, who avoids attention as much as possible.

  For the next hour, we skate with Moses, and it’s the perfect distraction. It’s no surprise that the crowd grows, and by the time we wrap up, we’ve got a little fan club waiting for autographs. It doesn’t happen every time we’re at a park, but with Moses here too at a popular time of day, it’s just the way it goes.

  Wanting to catch up with Moses without an audience, I invite him to follow us in his car the couple of blocks to my mom’s house for a beer.

  On the way over, Griff asks if anyone at the park asked me about Jordan.

  “No, most people don’t care about that stuff or even pay attention.”

  “They do, they just don’t say it to our faces. Only online. That’s the downside to social media.”

  “Someone say something to you today?”

  “A teenage kid asked if Jordan was joining us but I think he just wanted to see her in person.”

  “You think Vienna’s overreacting and we can get away not saying anything?”

  “Yeah, maybe. Shred Live might not be a problem if nothing else happens. But Summer told me Jordan’s getting beat up online pretty bad.”

  “Yeah, I’m worried about that.”

  Griff checks his phone. “There’s already a pic up of us from Airwalk just now. It shows us skating together and the caption says – ‘Beckett Steele and Griffin Perry spotted at Airwalk. They don’t look like two guys fighting over a girl. Maybe they’re into sharing?’” He laughs, but it’s more out of disbelief than humor. “Again, it’s a chick’s account. The girls are the vicious ones, man.”

  “It sucks we’re the reason she’s in this. We’re the ones who’ve got the millions of followers. And I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to stand up for her, protect her, without making it worse. Whoever that chick was didn’t say anything to our faces just now. It’s all behind a screen.”

  “Jordan’s tough, Beck. She’s young and new to all this. But she can handle it. She wants to do what’s best for you too.”

  We’re at Mom’s house now, and I’m ready for that beer. Skateboarding hard for an hour alongside two of the world’s best helped chill me out, but guess it’s not lasting long. No, the only fix is seeing Jordan happy, and being with her. And I don’t know how to make that happen anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jordan

  I turn the paper in on Monday, and give myself a free pass on studying for the afternoon. Instead, I take
the bus to Rampas and skateboard until my stomach grumbling is too strong to ignore. It’s late by the time I stop for food and get back to my dorm room. I’m expecting it to be empty; Lucy’s been spending most nights at Coby’s. But when I try the door, it’s not locked.

  Lucy isn’t the one inside though – it’s Beck. He’s sitting on my bed, barefoot, highlighting a textbook. I knew he wouldn’t give me any longer ignoring him. “Lucy let you in?” I guess.

  “Yeah. She was headed out when I came by.”

  Beck puts down his book and opens his legs wider. “Come here.”

  He watches me put down my skateboard, his eyes softening as I climb onto the bed between his legs.

  “You’ve got the post-park glow.”

  “Yeah, I went to Rampas.”

  Beck doesn’t ask why I didn’t invite him, and I appreciate that. “Did anyone give you a hard time?”

  “A hard time? At the park?”

  “Yeah, you know, about the stuff going on?”

  The stuff going on. Right. I’ve been pretending like none of it really matters, that it can’t touch us. And I’m going to keep going with that mindset as long as possible.

  “No one gave me trouble, Beck. A couple of ten-year-old girls recognized me though and asked to take pictures with me. That was kind of cool.”

  He moves his hands from his own thighs to mine. “So the harassment’s just online then?”

  My eyes move around the room, unable to hold his piercing gaze. “It’s not harassment really, Beck. It was just a couple of the troll accounts Summer mentioned.” I try to sound dismissive, because that’s the attitude I’ve been trying to adopt whenever I see the messages pop up.

  Beck doesn’t seem to agree with my take. “It’s what Vienna predicted. The speculation is growing. Everyone wants to know if you’re with me or with Griff, or if you’re with both of us.”

  “Both?” I roll my eyes. “And who is everyone, anyway?”