Provoke: A Seaside Pictures Novella

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Fire raged over my foot then headed up my ankle and kept going. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and then dropped down my wind-stung cheeks as I whimpered in pain. “Are you sure? Because it feels like it got my entire leg!”

  He swiped his thumbs under my eyes, wiping my tears away. “I’m sorry, I should have thought it through. It’s jellyfish season. There’s more on the beach than usual.”

  I sniffled as the wind picked up, matting my hair to my tear-stained cheeks, and messing up my lip gloss.

  “Up you go.” He gently picked me up, cradling me in his arms.

  “Oh.” I pressed a hand to his chest and watched him steel his expression as he glanced at my foot and started to walk. “You really don’t have to—”

  “This is my fault.” I could feel him limping on his bad leg and hated that I was probably adding to his pain, along with his memory of the incident.

  “Brad—”

  He shot me a glare. “Let me carry you, Piper.”

  “Okay.” Part of me wondered if he was carrying me out of the guilt that still clung to his memory or if he was just worried.

  My ex would have probably asked if he needed to pee on me Friends style and then would have documented it for his IG stories because, you know, influencers gotta document it all!

  I winced.

  “You hanging in there?” Braden asked.

  I nodded and then ducked my head against his chest as more tears fell of their own accord.

  It was painful, like really painful.

  “If that jellyfish wasn’t already dead, I’d kill it dead,” I said through my teeth as I tried to blink away the hot tears. “Stupid stingers.”

  Braden smiled down at me as we finally made it back to the boardwalk and then to his massive beach house. “I’m sure you would have put up a killer fight, small-fry.”

  “Hey!” I sniffled as the burning sensation pulsed around my foot. “I would have.”

  “Methinks you would have most likely slipped on your ass after trying to throw your shoe at it.”

  I glared, thankful for the distraction.

  He chuckled and then opened the front door and walked me into the living room, setting me on the leather couch and flipping on the fireplace.

  Before I knew it, I had a cup full of hot chocolate with a shot of whiskey, and a blanket tucked around my body. Where had he gotten the caretaker skills?

  Most guys would be panicking or at the ER.

  He walked back into the room his cell pressed to his ear. “Cool, thanks, just drop off the script when you can.”

  My foot was still throbbing when Braden came over to the couch and sat on the coffee table. “Good news or bad news?”

  “I think this is the bad news.” I pointed at my elevated foot. It had one angry slash across the left part of it and was still hurting, though I wasn’t swelling that much.

  Braden let out a chuckle. “All right, good news then. I don’t have to whip out any boy parts.”

  “Huh?” I frowned.

  “Friends!” He threw his hands up into the air. “And I’d pee on any one of you!” he said in a perfect Joey voice, making me laugh. He winked. “The bad news is that I have to pull out the stinger. I noticed it earlier but wasn’t sure if it was best to take you to the ER or not—”

  I opened my mouth to say not when he put up his hand, cutting me off.

  “Relax. An old friend from high school works at the local hospital as an ER physician. I called him up, and he said as long as you don’t have an allergic reaction, and we soak your foot in vinegar and remove the stinger, you’ll be good. Though in some pain for the next twenty-four hours, which”—he took a deep breath and winked—“brings me to the good news.” Part of his messy red hair fell over his forehead, giving him this beautiful Jamie from Outlander look that had my jaw nearly dropping to my waist. Damn, he was so nice to look at. “You get happy drugs!”

  He held up his hand for a high five.

  I weakly hit it and then sighed. “But what about the vision board?”

  He shook his head like he was massively disappointed in me. “I just told you that you get happy drugs, and you’re concerned about the vision board?”

  “You.” I pouted. “I’m here to help you, not the other way around.”

  He stood and took the mug from my hand, smiling. “We all need help at some point. You help me, I help you.”

  I sighed. “Does that mean you’ll work on the vision board while I sit here with a throbbing foot?”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “That depends, will it distract you from the pain until the pills get here?”

  I didn’t tell him that I wouldn’t take the pills anyways, especially when my ex was the sort of guy who stole my painkillers when I had mouth surgery.

  It just made me uncomfortable having them anywhere near me now, even though he was out of the picture. I hated what they reminded me of.

  “Yes.” I finally said. “Watching you work with glitter will most definitely distract me from the throbbing pain in my foot.”

  He let out a dramatic sigh and went to work grabbing a bowl from the kitchen. Within minutes, he brought it over. It smelled like vinegar, and I made a face as he slowly set it in front of the couch and then went over to my foot to examine it. “One stinger, from what I can tell.”

  I gulped, suddenly feeling weak. “Thanks, Doc.”

  He grinned and then pinched me hard on my thigh as he knelt down and pulled the stinger from my foot. “Done.” He stopped pinching.

  I rubbed my soon-to-be bruised thigh. “What was that for?”

  “Didn’t want you to feel the stinger removal.” He gave me a lazy smile. “I’m a professional, after all.”

  I gulped when his eyes moved to my mouth. “You feeling any…pain anywhere else?”

  Here. I wanted to point to my mouth. I wanted to indicate a few other places as well as a shiver ran down my spine. “N-no.”

  “Pity.” His voice was low, raspy. My body reacted in a very violent way. I told my heart to stop pounding and my brain to stop thinking of him as available.

  I sat up as he gently put my foot in the vinegar water, and then he eyed the table with trepidation. Finally, with a sigh, he walked over to the table and picked up a few of the Polaroids he’d taken at the beach. He also grabbed a glue stick and the blue glitter. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

  I smirked. “It’s going to be freeing, just wait.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what went through my mind when I picked up the exact brand of glue stick I used to lick when I was five—how fucking freeing this is.”

  “Ah, it all makes sense now. You ate glue when your brain was still underdeveloped. I’m amazed you can tie your shoes.”

  He flipped me off with a laugh and then said, “You’ve only seen me in sandals, I could have a shit ton of Velcro sneakers in my closet.”

  I made a face. “No, that takes away the entire sex appeal thing, doesn’t it?”

  His head swiveled back in my direction. “I’ll be damned! Did you just call me sexy?”

  “No.” My eyes widened while my body betrayed me by pumping blood into all the wrong areas, including my face, which felt as hot as the sun. “I just meant, you know, to other people, Velcro shoes may kill the sex appeal you have to…others…” I gulped. “Humans.” Another gulp and a weak nod.

  Braden threw back his head and laughed. “It’s okay, I can keep a secret, Piper.”

  I put my hands over my face and groaned. “Braden, this is my job, be serious.”

  “Oh.” He jerked off the cap to the glue stick and then blew across it. “I’m very, very serious.” And then he leaned over until his lips were next to my ear. I could smell the spicy cologne on his skin and nearly felt his pulse. “By the way, I think you’re sexy too, in an uptight, wanna-save-the-world sort of way.”

  “Thank you, I think?” I frowned.

  He patted me on the head. “Welcome. Now, stop distracting me. I have a vi
sion to create!”

  Chapter Seven

  Braden

  If I had to do art for a living, I would starve. That was my first thought as the tube of glitter spilled across my board and spread onto my coffee table.

  The second thought?

  Piper was ridiculously distracting when she wasn’t busy being so damn professional.

  She watched my every move, and like an idiot, I wanted to impress her with my skills, not my lack of creativity. But it felt like I was back in school waiting for my teacher to either pass or fail me.

  I held in my groan. Shit, I would have failed every class if that woman was my teacher, standing there all prim and proper with a black pencil skirt that she’d hike up the minute I grabbed her by the ass and set her on my desk, spreading her legs wide enough to—

  “Braden? Are you even listening?”

  “Yes,” I lied and then met Piper’s gorgeous blue eyes. “I was planning…in my head.”

  “And this, this is what you were planning?” She pointed to the board. I’d tried to make a music note out of glue and then attempted to dump the glitter onto the board in an effort to up the cool factor.

  Spoiler alert, the music note looked like a dick, and not a nice one. A small, sad dick that would never see any action. Ever.

  I tilted my head.

  She frowned. “Is that a—?”

  “Note,” I interrupted. “The glue just didn’t stick right…”

  “Stick,” she repeated and then covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  I shot her a glare. “Are you making fun of my music note?”

  “Are we really calling it that?”

  “I’m not drawing random glitter dicks on my vision board!” I huffed. “The glue wasn’t sticky!”

  “Poor guy.” She burst out laughing, and then I was on her. Well, not on her foot, but on her, tickling her sides as she laughed harder.

  “Take it back!” I roared, “or I’m going to torture you even more.” Hell, I was the one being tortured as she moved beneath me.

  This was either a horrible idea or the best I’d ever had.

  She sobered at about the same time I stopped tickling her and moved my hands to her face, tilting her chin with my finger. “I like your laugh.”

  Her eyes darted to my mouth. “Thanks.”

  I was probably going to get kneed in the balls, but I couldn’t let this moment pass. I was sick and tired of moments passing, of not taking opportunities when they presented themselves. If the incident had taught me anything, it was that life’s short, so when a beautiful woman is smiling at you and staring at your mouth, you kiss the hell out of her and capture the moment. Because who knows if you’ll ever be given the opportunity again?

  I leaned down, maybe an inch from her gorgeous, full mouth, only to hear the sound of knocking followed by my front door opening.

  I brushed a soft kiss across her lips and whispered, “Damn shame.” And then I was up and ready to kill whoever had decided to invite themselves over.

  I should have known it would be Zane, followed by Drew.

  “Is that a glitter dick?” Zane asked, pointing at the vision board behind me—or lack of one since all I’d managed to do was glue a picture of the beach to the poster board along with a shot of my old guitar and a blue glitter note that looked like a penis.

  “No, man,” Drew answered for me. “It’s a misshapen drumstick.”

  “Is there a reason you’re both here?” I wondered out loud. “Don’t you have wives to annoy? Music to write? Birds to chase?”

  “That was one time, and Drew was high,” Zane pointed out and then shot a look to Piper. “Don’t worry, he’s on the train now.”

  “Thanks, man.” Drew rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I know you asked Ty to grab the script, probably because he’s the least annoying out of all of us—”

  “Speak for yourself,” Zane interrupted, pulling a marshmallow out of his pocket and shoving it into his mouth.

  I think it was the pregnant pause of silence that followed that had him flipping us all off.

  “Anyways,” Drew said slowly. “Apparently date night was starting earlier than he thought, so he gave us the difficult task of walking into Safeway without getting mobbed. We wore disguises. You’re welcome.”

  He tossed me the white bag full of pain pills and then smiled down at Piper. “Be honest, did he pee on you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, he didn’t have to. But it did hurt like hell.”

  “Hmmm.” Zane piped up. “Curious minds would like to know why you were out in the sand with Braden in the first place. You know he’s terrified of water, right?”

  “Huh?” Piper shot me a look.

  I just shook my head at Zane. “Correction, my mom’s afraid of water and didn’t want me going too far out into the ocean. So she told me we had killer squid on the Oregon coast to keep me from swimming. It worked, by the way. Haven’t gone in past my waist in years.”

  “So sad, man.” Drew laughed. “You need therapy.”

  He said it jokingly, but it felt like he’d just exposed the giant elephant in the room. Because duh, I’d been in therapy for months, that’s why Piper was here.

  Last resort.

  And I’d just kissed her.

  Hit on her.

  Great.

  Please let her be cool about the fact that I genuinely liked her enough to explore more kissing, fewer clothes, bared skin.

  “He’s an ass.” Zane finally said and then went over to the coffee table. “So why the art project? It almost looks like you’re making a—” He stopped, looked at Piper, then at me. “Please, God, tell me you’re forcing him to make a vision board.”

  Piper grinned. “For the next two weeks, he has to add one new object or dream.”

  “Isn’t that special?” Zane gave me a cheeky grin. “You know, I have a vision board at home. Wife won’t go near it because of the pony, but whatever.”

  “Pony?” Piper asked.

  “Nope.” Drew moved his hands. “It’s creepy as hell, and I’m still not over it, man. None of us are. Anyways,”—he jerked his head toward the door—“we should be going so you can get back to your…glitter penis.”

  I growled. “It’s a music note!”

  Zane and Drew walked around the poster board as if they were inspecting it and then looked up at me.

  Zane was the first to speak. “I’m actually shocked you’re a musician, man. Gotta be honest, that’s some shit work. You should really apply yourself to this whole thing, you know?”

  I clenched my fists. “Out.”

  “What?” Zane shrugged.

  Drew shoved him toward the door and called back over his shoulder, “Don’t kill him, Piper. I want him for the tour!”

  “I’ll let you know when I get tempted. Not if,” she called back.

  “See? I like her!” Drew answered, and then the door clicked shut.

  I opened the white paper bag. “Sorry my friends are idiots. All right, so it says you should take one to two every four hours.”

  “Actually”—she licked her lips and suddenly paled—“I’m feeling a lot better right now.”

  I frowned. “Less than an hour ago, you were crying. I’m not buying it.”

  Her eyes seemed to fill with more unshed tears as she looked down at the blanket. “I um, I just don’t like pills.”

  “Because you like being in pain?” I asked, trying to understand.

  “No.” She gulped. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I just got out of a really bad relationship, and my ex abused pills a lot. He stole my pain meds last year when I had mouth surgery, and ever since, I just…I look at them and I think about his addiction. The way he always justified it like he could stop at any time. He was a lot of things, but he got a lot worse when it went from a pill here or there to stealing stashes and purchasing them from friends, you know?”

  Stunned, I just stared at her. “I know you don’t know me or trust me, but I would never do that. Yo
u know that, right? The guys and I, we’re all clean. We have a no-drug policy. Hell, we don’t even smoke pot, and it’s legal.”

  “Yeah, well.” She crossed her arms, and that’s when I noticed she was shaking.

  Shit.

  I grabbed the pills and sat down next to her, then put a hand on her thigh. “I know a little about trauma.” Shit, was I really going there? Apparently. “I also know that if you ignore it, it just gets worse. I mean, look at me. I literally ran off stage and took the first flight out because of supposed stage fright, when we all know the real reason I bailed. The real reason I couldn’t keep singing.”

  The room fell silent.

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “You don’t have to tell me, you know.”

  “I know, which almost makes me want to tell you.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “The thing about trauma is that, during it, you’re just trying to survive. After, you have so much adrenaline pumping through your system that you don’t even realize you’re injured mentally or physically. And then when you start to heal, that’s when the real pain starts. It’s during the healing that you realize you aren’t okay. I will one hundred percent go dump these in the toilet if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I also don’t think you should be afraid of something that’s supposed to make you feel better. When we’re sick, we take medicine, right? I don’t want you sitting here in pain all night when you could get some sleep and start to heal.”

  “I get it. I know how ridiculous it sounds. I just… I think about swallowing a pill and then I think about him getting high,” she admitted.

  “Well, then maybe you don’t swallow,” I offered and then smirked. “I meant the pill, by the way.”

  She burst out laughing and squeezed my hand. “What did you have in mind?”

  I shook my head and stared into her eyes. “You don’t want to know all the things on my mind right now.”

  Her tongue peeked out to lick her lower lip. I wanted to capture that mouth and force it to surrender to my kiss.

  Instead, I said, “I’ll crush up the pill and put it in peanut butter. That way you’re eating it, not just swallowing something bitter. You’re getting something nourishing, all right?”