“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.”
17
Brady
Brady's body locked at Lo's tone of voice and of course, what she had said. He ran critical eyes over the man standing beside his friend. Having never met Miller Boden before, he hadn't recognized him immediately. It was only somewhat disconcerting to see him paired with Serge, a man Brady greatly admired and looked up to. Though it wasn't surprising. Serge's job, if you could call it that, was to travel the world bestowing his wisdom and riding with the top athletes in their field.
Guess that meant Miller Boden was legit.
“Halo?” Serge asked for clarification as he offered his hand to Lo, ignoring the tension which had sprung up between the foursome. “It is not often I am introduced to someone with a name that so strongly suits them.”
Lo stretched out a trembling hand, Serge took it, held it firmly, his quick eyes reading whatever it was that Serge read when he looked at people. His face softened and then he kissed the top of Lo's hand. His action caused Lo to tear her eyes away from Miller Boden and blush deeply.
“My friends call me Lo.”
Serge hinted at a smile. Brady pointedly removed Lo's hand from Serge's, making the Norwegian grin outright. Brady laced his fingers together with Lo's. “All right. That's enough.”
Miller missed none of this. His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed fractionally on their joined hands. He took a quick breath and cleared his throat.
“It's good to see you, Lo.”
“You too,” Lo responded softly.
Wait. Softly? Not hotly? Or tartly? Or pissed-offedly?
Brady's brain started to cloud over with different ways he could get Miller Boden alone in the water. Gold Coast had sharks, right?
“I see,” Serge said with a single nod.
He probably did see. He saw everything.
“We were just heading to dinner,” Brady declared as the elevator door opened. The foursome entered the lift together.
“Same here,” Miller replied, his eyes still on Lo. Only on Lo. “We just got in from Japan. Thought we'd eat and pass out.”
“We're just in from Ireland,” Lo shared, shocking Brady. Why the small talk with the ex? What the hell was going on?
Miller's eyes skated over to Brady and back to Lo. What was that Brady thought he saw before Miller had looked away. Sympathy? Jealousy? Pity?
“Ireland,” Miller said, a dark sigh barely withheld.
“For work,” Lo explained.
Serge broke in. “Yes, you are working for Brookings now?”
“Yeah,” Brady confirmed, not enjoying the squirming in his gut as he watched the way Miller Boden was looking at Lo. Like he freaking adored her.
“You have access to all of his new equipment,” Serge went on. “I would very much like to speak to you about some of it.” He wagged a thumb between him and Miller. “We are on our own international expedition.
The elevator doors slid open.
“Perhaps all of us can meet up tomorrow some time? Compare experiences?” Serge asked, stepping off the lift. He pointed a finger at Lo. “I especially have questions for you.”
“I don—”
“That's fine with me,” Lo answered. Her eyes snapped up to Brady's. “I mean, if that's cool with you.”
Brady took a deep breath. What in the name of all that was holy was going on? Was she really so tired she wasn't thinking rationally? Or was something else happening here?
Brady didn't have experiences with exes. Not really. He had never had a serious enough relationship to consider it even breaking up. They'd basically stopped meeting at restaurants. Maybe people who used to date seriously still ate together? Who could he even ask about that?
Instead of expressing any of his discomfort, Brady looked into Lo's eyes and knew he'
d do whatever she wanted. That was how over the moon he was for her. “Sure, babe.”
She rolled up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, lingering for a second longer than was normal for a public setting. It helped. Especially when Brady raised his head to see Miller's dark glare before they all left the hotel.
That one was definitely jealously.
***
Lo
Lo watched the reflection of lights bouncing off of the ocean onto the ceiling of her room. Purples, blues, reds, gold. It was beautiful. But not beautiful enough to distract her from her thoughts.
It was inevitable. Miller was a successful surfer. He traveled the world all of the time for sponsors, competitions, and on impulse. They were bound to run into one another.
It didn't bother her.
Truthfully, it was nice to see him.
Maybe that's why she was still awake when she knew she should be sleeping.
And of course, meeting Serge had her entire head buzzing. She couldn't even think about him without feeling the need to get up and pace out her nervous energy. So she kept pushing it to the side, which was where she'd circle back around to Miller.
Turning on her side, she curled around her pillow and tried staring at the wall.
The bed depressed behind her and a strong arm came around her middle. Brady pulled her back to his front, his face burrowing into her neck.
“You're quiet,” he said there.
“So are you,” she countered.
They'd both been quiet after encountering Miller and Serge. Dinner had been great, but quiet. The walk back had been nice, but quiet. They got ready for bed in the quiet. Lo had retired to her room, not really thinking about it, and Brady had gone to his.
She should have gone to him, instead of making him come to her. But he had come. He was there now. And she hadn't even been aware his presence was exactly what she needed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
She didn't. Not really. It was still something she hadn't completely processed. But maybe it would help to give voice to her tangled thoughts.
“You're so different from him.” His arm tightened around her middle but he didn't interrupt, so she sallied forth. “I mean, even how you look. You're blond and blue-eyed, with muscles for days. Miller is dark-haired, brown eyes, lanky and lean. You're patient and cool. He's a hot head, impulsive.”
“What happened between you two?” Brady asked.
Lo ran her fingers over his hand on top of her stomach. He flexed his out and she tangled hers with his, curling their hands together into a tight fist.
“I might ruin this,” she said, her eyes and the inside of her nose stinging.
Brady moved quickly, letting go of her hand and turning her onto her back so his big body was looming over her in the dark. “What are you talking about?”
“Brady,” she whispered, pleaded, trying to express exactly what the broken parts of her heart were telling her. “I break things.”
His eyes turned from sharp to soft in a second. “You can't break me.”
But she knew. She would find the place where he was likely to break and she'd apply pressure. Not on purpose. It would happen because of who she was. She broke people, and things, even when it was hers. She ruined all sorts of wonderful things.
Brady must've seen her thoughts piling up in her eyes because he curled a hand around the back of her head, threading fingers though her hair and caressing her cheek with his thumb. “You're so silly.”
She huffed a surprised laugh. “What? I'm silly?” Here she was, trying to have a poignant emotional moment and Brady called her silly.
“Yeah.” His lips twitched with gentle amusement. “Trying to scare me away. But you forget I've met your friends. Spencer and Tessa have thrown down over you. I knew those chicks in high school. They're legit. They don't pledge loyalty to a-holes.”
The burning in Lo's eyes had been increasing with his words until he said that, then she barked a laugh. Brady grinned, proud of himself for making her laugh.
“And I've been traveling with you for weeks now. Little sleep, bad food, broken nose, ridiculous sleeping habits.” His tone gentled even further. “You're funny, sweet, kind to strangers. I don't think you know you the way I know you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I mean it,” he pressed. “I think I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You're ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head.
Brady sighed with faux exasperation. “Fine. I'll be ridiculous and you can be silly.” He turned them both so they were back in their original positions, with her back to his front and their hands laced together over her stomach.
She sighed and relaxed against him, her fears fading to the back of her mind. It was so much easier to ignore them with Brady's strong arms wrapped around her, as if he would literally fight her demons to keep her safe.
He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
But she was already asleep.
18
Brady
The moment Lo's bare feet hit the surf, splashing against the white sand and water, Brady saw the visible change in her.
It wasn't that she was behaving differently, but he could sense it. Her undercurrent of disquiet and confusion was marked only by the skittering of her green eyes as she had difficulty holding his gaze. Her words had been efficient and succinct, making their conversations more monosyllabic than was their normal.
But she'd spotted the ocean when they hit the beach and her focus had become singular. She'd dropped her gear, took her board, and run to the sea.
The choppy turquoise waves blocked his view of her as she paddled furiously out to open water, going wide to avoid the rider who was just dropping in.
He couldn't help but admire her. There was a grace in her wildness.
She turned her board around, a bobbing, glistening dot on the horizon. But Brady would be able to spot her anywhere. He was accustomed to her presence. He could pinpoint her location by instinct alone. He'd never experienced that deep and cognizant a connection with anyone before. It ran through his veins and beat alongside his pulse.
He could feel her, in any place and any time of day. Similar to the currents and channels, except it had taken him less time to learn the specific movement of her energy than it had taken for him to learn how to read the water.
A wave opened up and she began her run. Her hair slicked back, her body moving powerfully, expertly. She popped up on the board and crouched into the curve of the wave.
“There's a sight I've missed.”
There was exactly one thing in this world that could ruin a moment like this. And look at that, Miller Boden happened to find it.
The dark-haired surfer dropped his gear on the sand and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes on Lo.
Brady felt the muscle in his cheek twitch.
“Man, she's gorgeous,” Miller breathed, appreciation evident in his face and voice.
Brady wondered if knocking out all of Miller Boden's perfect teeth would get him in trouble.
Only if Miller could identify him in a lineup.
“Is that Lo out there?” Serge asked from Brady's other side before he could act on his more primitive impulses. He swung his gaze back in time to see Lo crouch and grab the outside rail as she steered out the backdoor that only she could see. She also made it look so easy. If Brady hadn't spent nearly his entire life in the water, he would never know how difficult it was to pull of the stunts she did.
“Fearless, huh?” Serge asked, making his own observation. He grinned at Brady. “Do you have your hands full with that one?”
Brady couldn't deny the smile that accompanied the image in his mind of actually holding Lo. He didn't just have full hands, he had a full heart.
“You guys haven't been together very long, have you?”
The smile faded from Brady's face and his eyes rolled to the sky. Seriously, what was it with this g
uy? Why did he think anyone cared what he had to say?
“And why is that any of your business?”
Serge's pale eyes sharpened on Brady, but Brady ignored him.
Miller seemed unconcerned, stretching his arms out in front of him and yawning. “I can just tell. It's always nice in the beginning.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Brady asked, feeling his hands clench into fists at his side as the pressure in his head increased.
Miller shrugged, dropping his hands to his hips and turning to face Brady. “Don't get mad at me, bro. I'll buy you a beer in a couple of weeks when she evaporates into thin air. We can cry about it together.”
Brady sucked in a breath, Miller bent to pick up his board.
“Is this what Brookings has set you up with?” Serge interrupted Brady's dark thoughts. Serge was inspecting Brady's board closely. Brady's vision bounced between Serge and Miller's back as the surfer headed out into the water.
“Yeah,” he finally answered tightly.
“How do you like it?”
Brady crouched down beside his friend with a grimace. “It's the same one I used in Nicaragua. I haven't used it here yet, but it held up nicely for the beating it took over there.”
Serge nodded and ran expert hands along the edges. “It has an unusual shape. Big. Like you.”
***
Lo
Lo sat up, straddling her board, feet and legs dangling in the warm sea.
Oh beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, Australia. What a welcome.
Water ran into her eyes, she wiped her hand across her face in a futile attempt to clear some of it. The morning light bounced off the water, surrounding her with golden sunbursts.
Anywhere in the world, no matter what, if she could find the sea, she was home. She was at peace.
Something about the unpredictability and the power. All she was expected to do was ride the wave she was given. Nothing more. It was the same way with life. People changed, left, lied. Circumstances altered in a moment's notice. All she had to do was ride it out, eventually she would find her groove.
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