14...15...16
She turned and paddled like hell with the growing wave below her. She popped up and dropped in, crouching into the curl and felt the cold water trying to bite her through the wetsuit. But it didn't. She let go of the outside rail as she pivoted the board, daring the water to stop her. Then she spun back again. The water ripped the board out from under her and the wide smile on her face couldn't be stopped as she plunged into the chilly, rough waves.
She swam towards the surface and broke free, her board popping up beside her.
It had been a long time for a homecoming and she felt welcomed. Missed.
Brady stood on the shore, shaking his head at her, but she saw the grin he was trying to fight.
It hadn't taken too much coaxing to get him out of the bed and into the cold water. She'd promised it was the best cure for jet lag and she hadn't been wrong. A couple of hours in the mid-50's water and they were both feeling a lot better.
Her inner peace had nothing to do with sleeping soundly snuggled up against the warm, capable, solid, perfect, sculpted, divine... Where was she again?
Brady
Brady threw his head back and laughed.
“I'm not joking,” Lo exclaimed as she bit into another taco. “So good!”
He shook his head at her and leaned both elbows on the table. They'd decided to go on a small excursion for food instead of trying to cook after their long day. The pub they'd found themselves in offered authentic Irish tacos, which Lo jumped at immediately. Brady decided to play it safe and order something more American.
The atmosphere was exactly what he'd expected. Happy music, people dancing, loud conversation... people living and celebrating life.
“You're missing out, big man,” she said, coleslaw sauce running down her chin.
“You're a mess,” he said, taking a swallow of his beer, but not bothering to hand her a napkin.
She grinned despite her mouthful of corned beef, cabbage, and tortilla. When she'd spotted the damn things on the menu, Brady had rolled his eyes. No way was that any good. Who puts yogurt in a taco? That's going to ruin it for sure.
But leave it to Lo to make something unappealing look like the best idea in the world.
“One bite,” she declared after wiping off her face.
His lips twitched at her suggestion but he shook his head once. “No. I'll pass.”
She narrowed her eyes and leaned as far across the table as she could, fork held at the ready. “One. Bite.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked, amused by her serious tone.
“Maybe. Would that scare you?”
Brady chuckled deeply. “Nope.”
“Then try a bite, you won't regret it.”
He held her hopeful eyes and leaned forward with his mouth open. She slid the fork inside, her cheeky grin growing into smug confidence. She wasn't wrong. It was a damn fine taco. But he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a win.
He chewed thoughtfully, rolling the textures around in his mouth for a bit before washing it down with a long drink of beer.
“Well?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I've had better.”
When she chucked the rest of her soda bread at him in annoyance, he couldn't help but laugh. Again, he eyed the people dancing towards the back of the pub.
“Do you wanna dance?” He jerked his chin toward the dance floor.
She glanced over her shoulder and back to him with a suspicious glare. “Seriously?”
He stood. “Yeah. It looks fun.” He held out a hand and waited for her to take it.
The green in her eyes grew more vibrant as she attempted to ascertain his motives.
“It's only dancing,” he said with a sideways smile.
She caught her bottom lip between her straight white teeth as she thought about it. Warmth shot up his arm when she took his hand.
He pulled her towards the music, feeling his soul anchor itself to hers. Maybe they were too similar, too free to be anything more than two souls similarly searching and finding, for one small second, a reprieve from the mundane and common. Maybe all they had was now.
He really liked everything happening right now.
“I don't understand why you left town two weeks ago and this is the first time I've gotten a call.”
Brady blinked at Bo's belligerent tone and unaffected expression.
“Yeah, you look really broken up.”
Bo adjusted the computer on his lap (big surprise, he was on the couch again). “Ireland, huh? What's that like?”
“Cold,” Brady said honestly.
The door to the apartment opened, he lifted his eyes at Lo's entrance. They had been in Ireland for four days. It had taken all four of those days for Brady to convince her to show him her old stomping grounds. He was checking in with Bo while she had been running a couple errands.
She spotted him behind her mirrored aviators and made a silly face as she hurried into the bathroom, taking all of her beauty with her. She was in distressed and loose jeans, and a gray long sleeve tee thin enough to let him know she was wearing a green bra. Emerald to be exact.
Obnoxious laughter interrupted his thoughts.
Brady glanced back down at his brother. Bo was wiping tears from under his eyes and Brady was glad he'd opted for headphones during the call.
“What?”
“You are so screwed, dude,” Bo said, his deep laughter not abating.
Brady rolled his eyes. “It's not—there's nothing—”
“For shit's sake, Brady,” Bo stopped him. “You're wearing headphones and you still managed to ignore me when she walked into the room. Little cartoon hearts may as well have been floating around your head. Does she know how in love with her you are?”
Brady sighed a long suffering sigh. “For the record, I usually ignore you.”
“Liar.”
“And we're just friends. We get along. She's really fun.”
“I bet she is.” Bo waggled his eyebrows knowingly. “Is that why you're not complaining about the cold? Do you have your own special way of warming up?”
“You're thirteen, you know that, right?” Brady rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
Bo only laughed harder.
“How are things there? I see Spencer hasn't killed you yet.”
At the mention of Spencer's name, Bo sobered and looked away.
Interesting.
“I avoid her if I can.” Bo ran a hand through his hair. Still shaggy and wild. Brady was glad he'd taken to keeping his own short. Over the last year or two they'd finally stopped looking like twins and more like individuals.
“And everything is going well at the shop?”
Bo wagged his head back and forth. “It seems to be. Kip has been working more. Steve, too. I think they're gonna get a promotion.”
“Good.” It was about time. Kip and Steve had been working their asses off.
Lo
Lo scrunched her messy hair in her hands. It looked really great actually. She was going for “carefree beachy tousled” and seemed to be pulling it off. She knew she wasn't supposed to care. But she cared a great deal.
It was like being a teenager again. The cutest boy in the whole school had been giving her hidden glances and open smiles. She liked it. She liked it so much she never wanted to wake up. Because this was a dream obviously, and who knew when it was going to end?
He had pushed and pressed to have her show him around. Today's rain storm had offered the perfect opportunity.
She leaned forward and darkened her eyeliner just a little. They were just hanging out. As friends.
Her hand trembled and she stared at it in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward again to make another attempt. Again, the pencil in her hand shook too much.
Straightening, she set the pencil on the vanity and closed her eyes. Had she had too much caffeine? Not enough sleep?
Brady's face flashed into her mind. His open smile as she had entered the small apartment. It wasn't fair. His teeth were entirely too white, his eyes too blue, his torso too shirtless.
Maybe it was because there had been so much concentrated togetherness since they'd left town. Realistically, she thought they'd kind of do their own thing, see each other off and on, maybe interact occasionally. She hadn't banked on spending nearly every waking moment with him. Let alone the ease and familiarity they had slipped into.
Her heart pounded haphazardly in her chest and her eyes flew open, connecting immediately in the mirror.
She was scared.
Because she liked him.
But more than that, she wanted him to like her back.
The pounding in her chest increased.
She wanted him to like her and not leave.
Shit.
She was too damn excited about today's events. Never had anyone asked to see where she had grown up, where her love for the sea had first developed. She was too different. Maybe he saw her as a novelty, the way Miller had. She had developed her skill in the cold waters of the North Atlantic while both Brady and Miller were children of the warm Pacific.
The bite of the cold had taught her early on she could surf whatever wave life threw at her, as long as she was wearing the proper outer shell. A wetsuit to guard against the temperature drop. It was the kind of lesson she'd been able to apply to her heart—keep the warmth protected, hide it.
She squeezed her eyes together and fought against the irrational thoughts bombarding her brain.
It wasn't like that anymore.
She'd let people in. She'd learned to make lasting friendships by taking chances on good people. Tessa and Spencer were perfect examples of that.
Not everyone left. Some people loved honestly.
It wasn't fair to judge people based on the isolated actions of a few selfish individuals.
However, and she was trying to be entirely pragmatic about this, she had no idea what category Brady fit into. The super hot, confusing category.
Brady
Lo left the bathroom and stood before him, dangling the keys.
“Let me guess, the love of your life just walked back into the room?”
Brady tore his eyes away from Lo and glared at Bo, who held his palms up, an enormous grin plastered on his face. “Don't shoot the messenger! If you could see your face, you'd agree with me.”
Brady flattened his lips. “Just try to stay out of trouble, would ya?”
“Hey, Brady, man, for real.” Bo's face got serious. “Have fun. Proud of you, big brother.”
Brady froze. He never knew what to do with Bo's random and unexpected moments of sincerity. And in a flash, Bo helped him through it.
“I better let you get back to that hot piece waiting on you.”
Brady shook his head. “You're a dick.”
Bo laughed heartily and ended the call. Brady tugged the ear buds out of his ears and stood up.
He didn't miss the way Lo's eyes scanned his bare chest, lingering in a way that had him feeling warmer than usual.
“I guess I should put a shirt on,” he said. Her eyes snapped up to his and her cheeks turned a bright pink.
“It's pretty cold,” she agreed, her tone not sounding cold at all. “And it's getting ready to rain.”
“Then I'll bring a jacket.”
“Good.”
They stared at one another as the seconds ticked by. This happened occasionally. She would linger, and he would let her. It was as if she had something right on the tip of her tongue, something she wanted to ask or say or state. And he would wait.
For as long as it took.