Brady snapped startled eyes up to Lo as she set her plate of food down and took a seat across from him.
“Where were you?” she asked, unfolding her paper napkin.
He blinked slowly and shook his head once. “Just... thinking.”
About her. About the hell he'd found himself in... sweet, sweet hell.
Of course he would fall for a wild child. A woman so aggravatingly untamed it made his mouth water and difficult to swallow all at once.
He was also trying to come up with a plan on how to fight it. It was one thing to have an attraction. Attraction he could handle. But need?
To need someone who so easily could blow away with the Trade Winds made his chest hurt.
Fight it? Embrace it? Ignore it?
It wasn't the kind of decision he could make in a morning. It wasn't a decision he could make at all if she were in his space.
Lo
Lo shoveled a huge forkful of eggs into her mouth. “Mm, these are good. Why aren't you eating?” She gestured to his plate of untouched food.
Brady glanced down at his plate like he just remembered it was there.
“What's on your mind, big guy?” Lo asked around a mouthful. “Didn't you sleep well? I slept like a rock.” She shrugged one shoulder, forking another mouthful in. “You know, assuming rocks sleep well.”
“I slept fine.”
Her head jerked up at the tone of his voice. His eyes were pointed to the nearby ocean, tight lines around his mouth and the strong lines of his neck strained.
“You sure about that?” she asked after swallowing.
He turned those blue eyes back to her and she briefly lost her breath. Sometimes when Brady looked at her, it felt like he was looking into her.
“Yeah. Why?”
She pursed her lips. “Well... because you're all, you know... broody.”
“Broody?” His lovely, lovely lips twitched and she heard her female sensibilities sigh.
“Yeah. Did I snore? Or kick you? I've been told I'm a very active sleeper.”
He arched his eyebrows.
“Active sleeper is just a nice way of saying I punch people while I'm unconscious.”
Brady chuckled, his face relaxing. “You didn't move at all.”
“At all?” she sat back, surprised. “How would you know? Maybe I punched you really hard.” She leaned forward again and squinted, inspecting his face for bruises. “I don't see any obvious contusions.” She grinned as she got his undivided attention. But her grin weakened when his expression softened as he looked over her face.
“You didn't move at all,” he said again, holding her eyes.
Lo sat back in her chair and dropped her gaze to her food. “Weirdo,” she muttered to her plate as she scooped up another bite.
“I figure we can get a few hours in on the water before we have to head back to the beach house,” Brady announced, finally digging into his food. “Then I'll write my blog first and you can write yours last.”
“Wait.” She shook her head. “Why do I have to go last?”
“Because I called it first.”
And that fast, he was already finished eating. Lo stared at his clean plate as he stood up and pushed his chair in.
“C'mon, pokey,” he said, sending her a grin she felt all the way to her toes. “I'm not waiting all day for you.”
Lo practically inhaled the remaining eggs on her plate and hurried to catch up.
Brady Samson was the absolute most confusing, frustrating, gorgeous man she had ever met. From broody to playful in a heartbeat.
It was unpredictably wonderful.
Brady
Brady closed his eyes and took a long slow deep breath.
That stupid bikini again.
When they got back to the beach house, he would be taking a pair of scissors to it.
It was too much of a distraction and it was giving her an edge over him he didn't like. Instead of getting prepared for his next ride, he found himself staring at her golden skin and perfect body.
He'd never considered what a perfect body would look like. He didn't exactly have a type. He liked women in general. They were gorgeous in their variety. His attraction normally started with their energy and smile and the body was the cherry on top. But Lo, she embodied perfection for him. It was like she'd been created out of a dream he didn't remember having. She was familiar and exciting in a way that told him he was supposed to know her better.
He wanted to devour all of it. From her long lean legs, to her shapely arms, to the curve of her hips.
It didn't help that he knew how those curves felt with his body wrapped around them in the middle of the night.
You know what else didn't help? Her smile, her laugh, her energy.
He couldn't take it.
He was one more wipe-out away from surrendering the whole of himself, declaring her the winner, just so he could be rewarded with one more kiss.
One more fantastically perfect kiss, from a girl who had shown zero interest in him since that first night. A girl who had written in detail online about the irrelevancy of relationships and how she preferred her independence. Because, yeah, Brady had gone through and read all of her previous blogs. Searching for the answers that weren't there. Wanting to know what it was the previous guy had done to lose her, wanting to know more about her. Anything and everything. He tried to rationalize it, calling it research and other such bullshit.
Apparently he was a sucker for torture.
He was also a sucker for a girl who just wasn't interested. Not in a long term. And if he was going to have her, it wasn't going to be temporary.
He needed to get their kiss out of his head. For all he knew, she had only allowed him to kiss her because she was curious. It made sense in context of her lifestyle and her writing. She liked to explore, she had an adventurer's spirit. He was just another adventure.
Any moment she would be onto the next one.
Lo
The beach house was dark when they returned that night. Lo helped Brady unload the back of the Rover before getting in the shower. They should find out tonight where their next destination was and she could start to get pumped up for the next wave.
Today had been amazing. Brady was immeasurably talented and she had enjoyed watching him explore and take chances she didn't see many others take. Gifted, was a word she didn't throw around, but it was one that kept rising to the surface.
She wrapped her wet hair into a braid to avoid the massive amount of volume she'd otherwise have to deal with in the morning. They didn't have to have their blogs posted until tomorrow before they left, but she was already pretty confident with what she wanted to post.
She wandered out into the living room and saw Brady's head tipped back along the couch cushions.
“Totally cashed out,” she said, running her fingers lightly through his hair and placing a kiss on his forehead. She wasn't surprised, he'd been running at full throttle for four days. It was bound to catch up with him.
The glow of the laptop on the table in front of him caught her eye. She came around the couch and sat down on the edge, leaning close to the screen. It was his blog. He'd beaten her to it.
She glanced back at his sleeping form, wanting to read it, but knowing she should probably write hers first. She tucked her legs underneath her and pulled the laptop into her lap. Resisting temptation, she opened a new tab and signed into her account. She would write hers and then reward herself for a job well done by reading Brady's. Yes, good plan.
Live, Love, Tacos
The blog of Lo Fredericks
Nicaragua
Someday I'll learn to run into an adventure with my eyes open and my insecurities shut, instead of the other way around.
On day one, I was nervous. Not because of any outside reason. All of my reasons are internal, as always. I was unsure and irritated with my unsureness. I ran face first into a cement pylon and broke my nose. As comedic as it sounds, it's actually quite symbolic for how I do most things.
I think I have a plan, or an idea of a plan at the very least. And then I break something of mine. I break it with my hurry and my good intentions. I smash it to pieces with my stubborn streak and my tendency to flight/fight in conjunction.
I need to stop breaking my things.
I have a preference of the two boards that came along with us from Soaring Bird. I didn't think I would, but I was wrong. I think the 6' would be fine in a slightly different location. But not for the pounding we took down here. Though, it did hold up nicely, despite the heavy boat traffic and my numerous wipe-outs the first two days.
Oh, yeah, I have a travel companion. Brady Samson. I'll attach some pictures next time so you can see his majesties gorgeousness. If ever there was someone born to surf, it's this guy. It's too soon to declare him my partner in crime. Mostly because we have yet to really find a good rhythm, but I think we're getting there. We're supposed to be competing, trying to best each other, but it's hard for me. I find myself cheering him on. Gifted is a word that gets thrown around too often, but it's easily the most accurate one. He has a subtlty in his technique that makes my heart stand still.
We spent two days further south to base camp and I rocked some amazing left handers in a much more challenging cove. I think I would have been happy to die right there. I even managed to rip a few backside barrels this week. Which reminds me, the wetsuits provided were divine and I can't wait to use them again. But also, the bikinis!! I wore two different bikinis this week and they both stayed functional and in place, even during my messiest rides. Lovely swimsuits, Soaring Bird, thank you for keeping the ta-tas hidden!
We head out tomorrow for the next unknown stop. Wish us big waves and high SPF.
She posted it, satisfied with her short first post. She'd be able to add more to the next ones as they went. Checking to be sure Brady was still sleeping, she clicked on the tab where his blog was posted.
Open Heart Surf
The Blog of Brady Samson
Nicaragua
Have you ever witnessed a miracle?
I'm not talking about the miracle of life or a sunset or any of those overly touted things that happen every day. Yes, they're miraculous, but that's not the kind of thing I'm talking about right now. I'm talking about the kind of miracle that if you blink, or if you doubt for even one second, you'll miss it and it's gone forever.
I don't think I've slept properly since we landed in Central America. The girl I've been paired up with is... I don't even know how to describe her. I want to say crazy, but that seems to be the go-to phrase every jackhole uses to describe a female he doesn't understand.
She's fearless.
She broke her nose on the first day and didn't complain about it once. Or hide it. No dark glasses or staying indoors. It was like she forgot about it as soon as the pain went away.
I don't know about you, but if any of my friends broke their nose, I wouldn't hear the end of their bitching.
But it was only the beginning.
Her skill level is unlike anyone I've ever seen.
I know it seems like I don't understand the point of this entire gig I'm on. I'm supposed to be competing with her and trying to best her. But I'm in awe of her.
Maybe I should lie. I'll try that. Maybe it'll get my head in the right mindset for this epic competition.
She looks like shit in a bikini. She has terrible technique and her style is absurd. She's not funny and I can't stand being around her. I hate everything about this entire trip and I want to go home.
Lo pressed her fist to her lips as she tried not to smile too big.
“Did you read my blog?”
She glanced over at Brady as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“Yes.”
“I guess there's really no denying it,” he said, standing up. “I have a big fat man crush on you. Try not to break my heart.”
Lo shook her head as she watched him stagger down the hall and turn into his room. Confessions of a sleep deprived athlete?
His praise of her ability was a little unexpected, especially with all of his dissatisfied grunting and frowning all week long. Were they mutually crushing on each other?
She absently clicked through the screens and signed into her email, her mind sorting through all of Brady's Bradyisms.
A new email from Clark!
Tomorrow you're leaving for an eight day stay in Bundoran, Ireland!