by A. J. Pryor
Making a firm decision, I finally responded. “Yeah, Goldilocks. I’m asking if we can be friends.”
She sighed and walked off. Leaving me without an answer.
fter an hour skeet shooting at the Oak Tree Gun Club, my shoulder was sore, and beads of sweat were starting to trickle down my face. One more shot, and I’d be done. I just wanted to hit that last target—blast it right out of the sky!
Keeping as calm as possible, once my target was within sight, I aimed my shotgun, narrowed my eyes, and made that clay pigeon the center of my attention. Then I pulled the trigger. Bam! It exploded into a million pieces. Hallelujah. That felt good. I took off my safety goggles, and pulled out the earplugs that were necessary in order to keep my hearing.
“That was some precise shooting!”
I turned to see Bill Masters, one of the managers of the gun club, standing behind me.
“Thanks, Bill. How are you?” I hugged him hard. Bill had become a good friend of mine a few years earlier, when he gave me some pointers for hitting my mark almost every time. He was older, probably my Daddy’s age, and reminded me so much of my Daddy that I loved being around him.
“I hear you’ve already been here an hour.” Bill must have talked to Kate, his wife of thirty years, who worked as a server at the onsite bar and grill.
“Well, I couldn’t leave until I’d hit that last target in the heart. Now I think I can go on with my day.”
Bill gave me his knowing stare. The one that said, you never come in here unless something is going crazy in your life. Want to talk about it? And he was right. My life was feeling a bit out of control lately, and I wasn’t dealing well with it. Getting a gun in my hand and tearing that target to pieces—that helped me feel a bit steadier—but I knew the minute I walked out of there any control I thought I had would vanish.
The cause of all that turmoil? Roan Anders.
Ever since I’d met him a few months earlier at one of Casey’s work events, he’d been a permanent fixture wandering around in my mind. His slicked back hair and piercing blue eyes had caught my attention instantly. The sexy stubble on his chin and the fact that his body was so toned I could see the muscles bulging from beneath his crisp white button-down didn’t help matters. He was sexy—model sexy—and he knew it.
Throw in his sports agent status and I was done for. Being one of five girls, my Daddy never wanted any of his daughters to be girly girls, so his love of sports became mine too. Anyone close to me knows I’ve watched Jerry Maguire no less than one hundred times and I’ll watch it one hundred more before I die.
I’d made a fool of myself that day. My southern accent betrayed that I had lived in Los Angeles for only the past eight years. It also let on just how nervous he made me.
Since his best friend was about to marry my best friend, I saw him a lot more than I intended. And Roan always made sure to let me know he was not interested. He brought girls around every chance he got and flaunted them in my face. Yesterday, at the beach, was the first time I’d ever seen him solo.
Now, he wanted to be friends. I wasn’t sure it was possible to be his friend, but I knew deep down I needed to try. Lord, I’d sure be seein’ enough of him over the next few months as Casey and Mason prepared for their wedding. It would be a hell of a lot easier if Roan and I could get along.
So yeah, my life was a little out of control, and Roan Anders was the reason. Did I want to talk about it with Bill? No way. How could I ever discuss boy problems with someone who reminded me of my Daddy? However, looking in his caring eyes brought me a sense of comfort, and I was happy I’d taken the time to go to the club.
Giving him a big smile, I cracked the barrel on my gun and swung it over my shoulder. “I know what that look means, Bill. I appreciate the concern, but I’m good. I promise not to wait so long to come back. I almost forgot how powerful it feels to hit my target.”
We walked to the front of the building and he patted me on the shoulder. “You know you’re always welcome here, kiddo. Don’t be a stranger. And I’m here if you change your mind and want to talk.”
After a brief hug goodbye, I waved to Kate and told him I’d be back soon. I was heading to my car when my phone rang. Not recognizing the number on the display, I cautiously answered.
“Hello? . . . Hello?”
There was complete silence on the other end. Must have been a wrong number. I hung up and continued walking through the parking lot when the phone rang again. Frustrated, I hit “accept” without looking at who was calling.
“Hello?” I said, irritated.
“Goldilocks?”
“Roan? How did you get my number?”
“Hey, you said you’d be nice to me, remember?”
“Sorry. You took me by surprise.”
A shot rang out in the distance. “Where are you?” Roan must have heard it too.
“I’m about to leave the shooting range and go home to try some new recipes.”
He was silent on the other end of the line.
“Roan? You still with me?” I asked as I put my shotgun in the trunk.
“Ah, yeah. Shooting range, huh?”
“That’s what I said.” He was quiet again. I got in my car. “Roan, is there a reason you called?”
“What type of gun were you shooting?” His voice sounded strange.
“My shotgun, a Beretta 12-gauge.” He didn’t speak. “Roan?” He was so frustrating. Why he would call and not talk was beyond me.
“Sorry, Locks. But that’s something I’d like to see. Are there a lot of women who go shooting?”
Oh, jeez. Now it was my turn to be silent. Was he seriously trying to figure out if the shooting range was a good place to pick up women?
“Roan, why are you callin’?” I couldn’t hide the irritation in my voice.
Lucky for him he got off the subject. “I promised to teach you how to surf. Can you meet me tomorrow morning in Malibu at seven?”
“Seven? In the morning?”
“Yeah, Goldilocks, seven in the morning,” he said, chuckling.
“I guess that works. Do I need to bring anything?” I hadn’t been out of bed before seven in years.
“Nope, just yourself. And be on time. I have to go to work after.”
“Okay. Thanks, Roan.”
“No prob. And to answer your first question, Casey gave me your number.”
I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “See you tomorrow morning, Roan.” I hung up before he could say anything else, such as asking to come shooting with me. This was my place, like my own personal Namaste. No way would I ever bring him into this world.
hile the rest of the country was cooling down, we were experiencing the hottest weather of the year. I had set my alarm for 6:00 a.m. to make sure I wouldn’t be late to meet Roan. It looked like I was going to be on time for once in my life.
I found him on the sand, shirt off and muscles on display, rubbing something all over his surfboard. The muscles of his back flexed as he worked. His hair was slicked back, but every so often, pieces broke loose, falling down onto his face and around his eyes.
“Hey, Surfer Boy.”
He quickly turned around and rolled his eyes. “Hey, Locks.” His eyes were bright, and his grin was making my knees weak. The six-pack . . . make that eight-pack, he sported was on full display. He had that V, the one that forms at his hips, shows off the vein that runs parallel to his happy trail, and cascades into his shorts, leading my mind to wonder just how impressive he was down there. It was a challenge not to stand still and ogle his body.
“What are you doin’ to the boards?”
“I’m waxing them so you stick to them. That way you won’t fall off the board in the water. Want to help?”
Curious, I walked over to where he was working. Picking up the jar, I looked at the label. “Sex Wax? You wax your board with Sex Wax?”
“Yeah, you’ve never heard of it? You have to wax your stick, then lay on top of it, and ride it. Brilliant n
ame for the stuff, really.” He relayed this information to me as he continued to rub the wax all over his board.
Feeling my face blush and with visions of Roan and sex on my mind, I tried to keep to the facts. “Is that the marketing campaign they use?”
Throwing a devilish grin and a wink my way, he answered, “Yes. Anyway, stuff works like a charm. Come on. Let’s get started.”
When he didn’t move, I realized he wanted me to get on the board where it lay in the sand.
“Aren’t we going in the water?” I asked.
“Nope, not today.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because I want to teach you the right way. So today, you’re going to learn how to stand on a board once you finally get that perfect wave. Next week you’ll learn how to control the board in the water, and hopefully the week after that I’ll get you to stand up.” He reached for my hand and pulled me over to him. “I understand it’s hard, but in the water and on that board, you need to relinquish some control to me. I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I mumbled.
Without warning, he grabbed the hem of my sun-dress and lifted it over my head, exposing my bikini-clad body to the cool morning air. My eyes widened in disbelief.
“I told you to give me control, Locks. Don’t look so surprised.”
“You’re just lucky I’m wearing something under that, Roan.” While taken off guard, I had to give the boy credit. Without pause, he was able to undress me in mere seconds.
“You came for surf lessons. I don’t usually surf with people naked. Well, most of the time anyway,” he said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. Teach me how to surf, smart-ass.”
He stood behind me on the board and held on to my sides, helping me get my footing. With palms gently placed on my hips, his fingers slipped inside the strings of my bikini bottom. Lightly pressing into both sides of my back, his thumbs rested right at the top of my butt. Combine that with his warm breath in my ear as he spoke each word, and I wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying. My concentration was solely on the location of his hands (specifically his fingers) and how badly I wanted them to move south.
“That’s right, Locks. Your feet are in the perfect spot,” he whispered into my ear.
I tried to even out my breathing and focus on my feet—not Roan’s hands, which slid lower with each move I took.
Losing my balance I stepped onto the sand and a pain shot through my foot. “Ouch! I stepped on something.” I plopped in the sand while pain shot up my leg. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain became worse and I cradled my foot in my hands, trying to see what I’d stepped on.
“Locks, calm down and look at me.” He held my arms tightly; there wasn’t anything I could do but stare into his eyes. “Breathe with me,” he said, as he knelt in front of me.
I took a few big breaths with him as the tears that had welled in my eyes fell. “Roan, it really hurts.”
“Let me look.” He was talking to me slowly, like I was a child, and it was working. I stilled and held my foot out for him to see.
“Goldilocks, a bee stung your big toe.”
“Seriously? Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” My foot was on fire, and the pain was still creeping up my leg.
“Well, yeah, bee stings hurt. But I got the stinger out, and it should start to feel better soon.”
I lay on the sand with my foot in Roan’s hand, staring at the sky. A bee hadn’t stung me since I was a little girl. Why now? And why did I have to act like such a crybaby?
Roan lifted my leg and placed it in his lap. He held a cold water bottle to my toe and massaged the bottom of my foot, bypassing anything ticklish but hitting an erotic pressure point that made me forget all about the bee sting. His thumb moved back and forth along the inseam of my foot, and the pressure he was using - Holy Hell - I wanted to inch closer and straddle him. It was taking an incredible amount of self-control not to moan and close my legs. Whatever magic he was doing to make the pain of the sting go away was causing sensations I should not have been feeling out there in the open—and definitely not with Roan.
Unexpectedly, I felt his warm breath on my toe, and his lips landed right at the center of where the bee had stung me. I froze, and air literally stopped moving in and out of my lungs for a brief second.
“I think you’re going to live.” He placed my leg back in the sand and brushed my hair away from my face. Did Roan seriously kiss my boo-boo away? My heart was frantically beating and pulsing in my ears. I turned to the side, where he was lying down next to me. “It’s not the end of the world,” he said. “Why are you so upset?”
“I haven’t been stung in ages. I forgot how painful bee stings were.”
“They definitely hurt like a bitch and it’s pretty common to get stung on your feet down by the water.”
He was facing me, propped up on his elbow and staring into my eyes with a look of sympathy. Our legs were touching. If I turned my body to the side, we would be face-to-face, our lips inches apart. I was about to sit up and get myself out of this situation when he reached over and wiped a tear from my cheek. His fingers lingering on my skin.
“When I was fourteen,” he said, “I ditched school with a group of seniors and came down to the beach to catch a huge swell. I was crushing hard on Daphne Jackson, a senior who had no idea I existed. I decided to show off and was carrying my board over my head as I ate a sandwich, walking to the parking lot. A bee landed on my nose. My hands were so full, I couldn’t swat it off, and it ended up stinging me. It took all my willpower not to burst into tears as the pain shot through my entire face. I bolted off that beach as fast as I could and actually took the bus home, hoping to avoid anyone I knew. My nose swelled to such epic proportions, that I had to go to the emergency room that night. Daphne called me Rudolph for months. Bee stings suck, Locks.”
Without thinking, I reached my hand up and cupped his face, feeling the stubble from the day before. Roan blinked at me, wide-eyed. He moved his hand to cover mine, and I thought he was going to remove my fingers from his cheek. Instead, he held it to him and stared at me, his face so close to mine I felt whispers of his breath.
My chest tightened as his intense gaze ignited something deep in me that had been brewing for weeks. While my mind knew he was off-limits my body wanted him – all of him.
His jaw twitched under my fingers and his eyes darkened. My heart skipped a beat knowing if he leaned in just a fraction more, our lips would touch, sending any self-control I had, out with the receding waves.
Roan was a beautiful fantasy, and I lived in stark reality where fairy tales were meant to stay in the pages of a book. Giving in to what my body desired was not an option.
“Did you ever score with Daphne?” I asked, trying my best to lighten the mood.
We both burst out laughing.
“No, I never looked her way again after that day.” He removed his hand from mine and pushed up onto his knees. “You better, Locks?”
My foot felt better, but my heart felt too big in my body. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Do you think you can walk to the car?”
“Only one way to find out.” I got up and tried to put pressure on my foot. It hurt, but I could walk. “I’m good. Thank you, Roan.” I picked up my bag and limped away.
“Hey, let me help you.”
“No, I’m okay. Have a good day at work.” I turned to go, but he rushed up beside me.
“Locks, let me help you.” He grabbed my bag out of my hand and put his arm around my waist. Swiftly, he lifted me into his arms and carried me over the sand, toward the parking lot.
“Roan, put me down. I can walk.”
A smile hit his lips. “I’m sure you can, but I’d rather carry you.”
I couldn’t argue with that. There were a lot worse things to happen to a girl than be carried across the sand in Roan’s arms. My cheek rested on his chest. He hadn’t put a shirt on, and it t
ook a lot of restraint not to snuggle into his bare skin and breathe him in.
“Nice catch, Roan.” His arms tensed around me, cocooning me protectively to his body, as he looked toward the voice and then frowned. He didn’t bother to respond, only gave the person an indifferent nod as we continued toward my car.
“Who was that?” I asked. The guy Roan was clearly trying to ignore was passing by us, carrying a surfboard under his arm, and wearing a wetsuit down around his hips. His body was ripped like Roan but he had long sandy brown hair and dark green eyes. He winked at me as he passed us.
“That is nobody you need to know.”
“You don’t seem to like him very much.”
“We have our differences.”
I guess I wasn’t going to get more than that. Roan had suddenly clammed up.
Placing me back on my feet in front of my car, Roan, helped me get settled. “I’ll call you later to check in on you.” After quickly kissing my cheek, he turned in the direction of the beach to gather his belongings. I watched as he disappeared down the sand dune and had to shake my head to get the visions of his naked chest out of my mind. That boy was something else.
Before pulling away, I saw I had a missed call from my Daddy. I hadn’t talked to him in a while and longed to hear his deep voice. I loved him fiercely. My mother? I loved her too, but our relationship was complicated. While I was growing up, she’d trained me to be a southern socialite. She taught me how to dance, speak, and eat properly; there was a protocol for everything. While my sisters thrived on the control and order our mother had over them, I broke her rules.
All four of my sisters still lived in Texas. My baby sister, Savannah, was a senior in high school, but even as adults, the rest of them resided in the same house where we’d grown up. Our mother never let go of them. I was the only one who had moved away, sending Momma a clear message: she had no say in my life.