Lo flexed her fingers and then tightened them again in Brady's strong hand. She turned their hands over, examining the differences in the skin and the size. His were so much larger, stronger. Hers were tiny by comparison, but strong in their own way. She had never really acknowledged her hands before. Not beyond the daily tasks they completed to assist her life.
She was very aware of them now. The way they held things she wanted closer to her. The way they let things go.
The expression of knowing something “like the back of your hand” always eluded her. She didn't know her hands, let alone the backs of them. If she had been shown a video of her hands doing something, she wasn't sure she'd be able to identify them. They had never been a huge point of focus for her.
Not until Brady started holding them.
They weren't perfect, marred by scars and use. Her forefinger on her left hand was perpetually swollen because she'd jammed it in a door when she was ten. The knuckles on her right hand were always healing a fresh scrape from using her fist to propel herself off the sea floor when the waves had pounded her down. But they were hers. And she decided she liked them. She especially liked the way they touched Brady without fear. The way they seemed to know he was safe and meant for exploring.
She ran her free hand up his arm and under the hem of his t-shirt. Her fingertips traced the curves of the muscles there. Yes, she was much more appreciative of her hands than she had been before.
“What are you doing?”
Her eyes flicked up to see Brady watching her with amusement.
“Touching you,” she replied in truth.
His lips tugged up on one side and his hand tightened around hers. The elevator stopped moving and Lo stalled, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her.
The doors opened up and Brady pulled her down the hall to their assigned apartment.
Their residence for the next week was part of a floor of rooms in a hotel customarily rented out by surfers. The beautiful Gold Coast of Australia was frequented by amateur and professionals alike as a go-to destination for some of the world's most perfect waves. She was looking forward to the crash that came after their long flight. Hopefully there would be snuggling and touching and kissing. Jet lag wasn't so hard to suffer through with Brady.
She went to the fridge immediately as Brady deposited their bags in the living room.
“Which bedroom do you want?” he asked as she twisted off the lid to a bottle of water.
She shrugged, putting the bottle to her lips and taking a long swallow.
He studied her, hands on his slim hips, lips pursed. Finally, “Okay.” Then he picked up both of their bags and tossed one in each room.
She tried to ignore the discontent in her stomach at seeing their bags separated. But how insane would she have to be to think they'd be sharing a room? Not yet, not this soon. If he had assumed that, she'd have called it quits on them instantly.
This thought struck her and she stared at the cheap but clean linoleum floor before her.
Did she just test him?
She shook her head, trying to rid it of Miller's accusing voice and the final arguments they'd had that effectively ended their relationship.
No, she didn't play games. She wasn't one of those girls. She was down to earth and honest. Except Brady had asked her which room she wanted, had given her the chance to vocalize what she wanted, and she had shrugged.
Warmth stole through her body as Brady slid his arms around her from behind. He found her neck by nuzzling her hair out of the way and pressed a kiss to her skin.
“Nap or food first?” he asked, followed by another lingering kiss.
Brady was unbelievably good with his mouth. He could make one kiss last several long minutes and still leave her wanting more.
“I haven't eaten since London,” she said, relaxing backwards into his arms. “But a nap sounds lovely.”
“Babe, that was yesterday,” he said, the concern evident in his tone.
“I know.” She sighed.
“Tell you what,” he said, taking her hand in one of her huge ones, grabbing the key off the table with the other. “Let me buy you dinner, get your belly super full.” He grinned, pulling her against his side and kissed her on her nose. “And then you can pass out like a chubby puppy. You'll be good as new by tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she agreed easily.
The light was already fading in the sky, casting golden shadows all across their little rental. Their flights had taken more than thirty-six hours to get there, but Shane had booked them to hopefully minimize travel shock. He was experienced with that apparently from his years of competing. Lo was grateful. It wasn't something she would normally think about. Her parents never taught her how to make their lifestyle work for them. Every time they uprooted and left the country, it took a week to acclimate. Probably because they never planned anything out, they wanted to be “authentically free.” Whatever bullshit that meant.
Truthfully, she had tried to mentally and emotionally prepare for that exact scenario signing up for this gig. She had no idea you could travel the world and not spend forty percent of the time feeling like you had to puke your guts out from fatigue and reverse cycling.
Also, Brady's obsessiveness with taking care of her was becoming less annoying. Okay, it wasn't annoying at all anymore. Which was kind of freaking her out. Tess and Spencer were the only two people she kind of let take care of her. Even then, she hated feeling like a burden.
But Brady didn't ask for permission. He just busted into her life like a bull in a super cluttered yet charming flea market. And messed everything up.
And God bless him if she was starting to find it lovable.
Wait. Not lovable. She wasn't in love with him.
How about really, really likable.
Whatever. She was too tired and too hungry to have cohesive thoughts right now.
She wrapped her arms around her middle as they entered the hallway. Hopefully she would be able to stay awake during dinner. Falling asleep in mashed potatoes again wouldn't be as cute as it was when she was nine she would bet.
Male voices on the other side of the door across the hall from them grew louder as they got closer. She stepped closer to Brady as he closed the door behind them, not wanting to collide with their neighbors. The likelihood of them being surfers as well was fairly high and she was curious. So far in their travels, they'd been relatively alone on the beaches and in their residences. It might be cool to hang out with others on a similar journey.
Lo and Brady were almost to the elevator by the time the neighbors left their apartment. Their quiet conversation was punctuated by masculine chuckles and Lo found her head tilting in their direction.
That voice...
Brady pressed the button to call the lift and he smiled down at her, tugging her hand so she was right against his side. She was smiling back up at him, lost in Brady world, when his eyes lifted as their neighbors joined them.
“Serge,” Brady greeted in surprise, letting go of Lo and stepping away.
Lo recognized the Norwegian legend instantly. He was the equivalent of a rock star in her eyes. Well, in the eyes of most people who led the life.
She thought she had seen him once at Soaring Bird leaving Clarke's office upstairs, but she couldn't be sure. And she wasn't exactly in a position to ask anyone. It was common knowledge Serge was close friends with Shane, which made sense since they both were probably the best on water and snow and could switch out whenever the mood would strike.
Even though Serge was known for being a pioneer in snowboarding, he was just as well known for his talent in the water as well.
Lo had a strictly professional crush on him.
What she didn't know, was Brady was friends with him. At least that's what she was guessing when they embraced in the cool guy hug thing where they clasped hands and pounded each other on the back simultaneously.
“Brady Samson.” Serge's pale eyes drifted to Lo as he let go of Brady and she held her breath.
It was like being up close to a tiger at the San Diego Zoo. She didn't even have to know his history or his stats to recognize the power and confidence in his face. She wanted to hide, but she was frozen in place.
“Who do you have with you?” he asked Brady, his eyes assessing.
“Halo Fredericks,” came the tight reply, but not from Brady.
Lo knew without having to look. But she looked anyway. Her lips pulled tight against her teeth as she attempted to force a smile and failed.
“Miller.”