The knock on the door startled Brady awake. For a moment, he was completely disoriented and he tried to gain his bearings. Dark hair spread across his bare chest and he automatically sank his fingers into it. Lo stirred against him, her arm heavy around his middle, her cheek pressed to his chest. He took a deep breath, feeling refreshed by everything she had given him with her arms and her heart.
The knock came again and he carefully removed her hand from around him and slid out from underneath Lo and out of the bed. He pulled his jeans on and made his way to the door, flicking a glance at the clock above the microwave on the way by.
It confirmed what he'd already figured out. They'd slept way past noon.
He opened the door to find housekeeping.
“Sorry, we slept in,” he explained. “We should be out in about in an hour.”
The middle-aged woman didn't seem to care. That was management's job. She nodded and knocked on the door across the hall. Brady shut theirs before he saw Serge or Miller.
He didn't want to have to explain his side to Serge. He wasn't sure where his friend would stand, but from past experience, Serge avoided drama. He saw it as a needless waste of energy and didn't get involved. No doubt it contributed to his permanent zen state.
And Miller, well, Brady was afraid he'd finish what he started yesterday.
Just the reminder of Miller existing caused him to clench his fists in frustration. Brady had never disliked someone to this extent. He ground his teeth together as the pressure built in his chest again. The idea of Miller ever having touched Lo, his Lo, made Brady want to break something. Again.
She was soft and wild and sweet and Miller wasn't.
He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark angel still asleep. He didn't want to have to wake her. Didn't want to make her move. He just wanted to take care of her the way she cared for him.
She loved him. She'd said so.
She was his.
He felt badly they were being called home when she was very much alive on this adventure. Hopefully Shane would just give them a slap on the wrist and they could return to this life of freedom. Part of him knew as soon as they returned to California, things would change.
So he held onto this moment, this image of her in his life, loving him.
No matter what happened when they got back, he would earn this again. Or he'd die trying.
Live, Love, Tacos
The Blog of Lo Fredericks
Australia
Sometimes I don't look at all and I leap. And I'm not even looking during the leap. I keep flying through the air, the wind on my face, the freedom of the jump the only thing supporting my limbs. There's a certain immunity to consequences when you're not looking. You're just flying.
This has not always been the most effective and beneficial life choice for me. Depending on the context.
In surfing, it has served me well. Allowing the ocean to decide where it wants me, and me figuring out how to ride it to the end has taught me a lot about how the world works.
It has taught me a lot about how my heart works.
This trip to The Gold Coast has been cut short, but I'm hoping to return sooner rather than later.
The board I was provided with this time was amazing. I felt more in control of every little turn, but it did nothing to diminish the power of the wave. The wet suits are always perfection. They fit like they were designed for me. I know Brookings' wife has been the body model for the wet suit creation and it's working. I didn't get a chance to try any of the new bikinis this time but I'm heading home in the morning and I plan on using them during our (hopefully) short break.
Soaring Bird, as a business concept, is run by a man with a team that knows what it feels like to live life in the leap. This trip I began to understand the deeper meaning of the brand name. The equipment doesn't turn you into a master athlete. But it does give an average athlete beautifully crafted wings.