The Perfect Wave

by A. J. Pryor

  So no, I wasn’t upset that Roan left with someone else. I was furious. Who did he think he was toying with my emotions like that? And now, this party was the last place I wanted to be. So, Jaxon’s suggestion of getting drunk was a no-brainer. There was no dance floor, I didn’t know anyone besides Casey and Mason, and they were always in their own world. There wasn’t anything else to do but get drunk.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes I want to get drunk. What are we drinking?”

  “Tequila!” He said it as if I should have known the answer.

  “Count me in!” Casey yelled.

  Mason followed us shaking his head. Casey had a hard time handling her liquor and everybody knew it.

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Mason. Go big or go home! Case knows the rules, get with the program.”

  It was Saturday night, we were at a party that was less than dull, and the only fun thing in the room just walked out the front door. I was taking Jaxon’s suggestion and running with it and no amount of Mason’s head shaking was going to change my mind.

  “Oh, I’m with the program alright, but let’s take this party down the road. This is not the place to let loose and everyone is starting to leave now anyway.” Mason did have a point.

  Ten minutes later, we were in Mason’s limo headed down to Sunset Boulevard. We ended up at The Standard, a trendy hotel in the heart of West Hollywood with a great bar.

  We ordered four tequila shots. The smell of the alcohol hit my system and I mentally thanked Jaxon for his brilliant idea.

  Tequila was my go-to drink when I wanted to let loose, and I definitely needed to get a little out of control tonight. I’d been so wrapped up in my own head these past few weeks: writing a book, getting used to the fact that my best friend was all-consumed with her sexy tech-geek fiancé, and navigating how to be friends with a man who riled me up like no other. Tequila was exactly what the doctor ordered.

  We all raised our glasses, toasting Mason and his new company. One shot down and I quickly caught the waiter’s attention. “Can you bring about ten more of these?”

  Jaxon started cracking up.

  “What? You said drunk, I’m just following directions.” We had been standing at a small table that was in the corner of the room. Someone had hijacked the stools.

  As the waiter put the tray of shots down at the table, I grabbed another one. “To sexy tech nerds everywhere!” I shouted out.

  Jaxon took his shot then leaned down into my ear, “At least you got the sexy part right.” His breath slowly traveled across my face, hitting my lips and causing a pleasant sensation throughout my whole body.

  I looked up into his blue eyes and smiled. Grabbing another shot, I held it out. “To cute boys with dimples.”

  “Cute boys with dimples!” Casey repeated and downed her third shot.

  Mason took the glass from her hand and kissed her.

  “Speedy, you really want to go head-to-head with Jessica? You know she’ll drink you under the table.” Speedy was Mason’s pet name for Casey, ever since she ran out of a Coffee Bean full throttle and bumped into him, spilling her coffee all over the place. That was the first time they ever met. The nickname stuck, and so did Mason.

  “That was one night, Mason, and I hadn’t eaten yet. I can keep up with my bestie.”

  I winked at Mason and handed her another shot.

  Jaxon’s hand, which had been resting on the table, slowly made its way to my lower back. I felt it there, felt his thumb move along the stretchy material of my dress, and wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s not like I didn’t hook up with guys, I did . . . lots of them. A kiss on a dance floor, maybe a hand up the shirt, an intense make out session on the balcony of some nightclub. Stewart Rossman and his tongue that made me come three times in twenty minutes entered my mind. And, Matt French, who I tumbled into bed with to ring in the New Year; I still remember the way his fingers felt as they slid inside my panties. However, in my twenty-six years, I’d never had a one-night stand. I looked over at Jaxon; maybe it was time to have one. Jaxon was hot, in an adorable way; I could use the distraction. So I let him run his thumb along my back, while I relished the attention and decided to let the night play out and see where it ended.

  Four shots later and we were on our way to being hammered. Actually, Casey was already there. “Let’s T.P. someone’s house!” she yelled.

  “Holy Hell, Case, you’ve only had four shots!” This was ridiculous. The girl needed to come to Texas with me for a while so I could toughen her up a bit.

  “Okay, that’s it. I’m taking you home,” Mason said at the same time, laughing at her.

  “No! I’m serious. Remember how fun that was in high school? Didn’t you guys ever T.P. anyone’s house in high school?”

  We all looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Of course we did, but news to Case, that was over a decade ago, we were kids. You can’t just go and start T.P.-ing people’s homes.” I said rolling my eyes.

  “Jess, I want to T.P. Roan’s house. He’s not going to care. In fact, he’ll think it’s funny.”

  “Okay, now I’m really taking you home.” Mason picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  She cupped her hands over her mouth, as she was being carried out and yelled behind her, “He lives in the Canals - in Venice Beach! Right off 25th street!” Jaxon and I were laughing as Mason tried to put his hand over Casey’s mouth and walked her toward the exit door. Once they were out of sight, I stopped laughing and looked up at Jaxon’s flirtatious grin.

  “Want to get out of here?” he asked.

  He didn’t have to ask twice.

  The trendiest way to cab it around Los Angeles was with a service called Uber; we were in one of their cars heading toward Venice.

  “Are you sure you have the right address?” I asked Jaxon.

  “Jessica, you do know I’m Mason’s right-hand guy? I can pull up someone’s address.”

  When Jaxon asked where I wanted to go, I answered as truthfully as I could (or maybe it was the six tequila shots that answered for me). “I want to see the sex pad.”

  “The what?” he’d responded with a small chuckle.

  “Roan’s lair. I wanna see it,” I repeated.

  “I thought you didn’t like him.” Jaxon was donning a very serious expression for someone who’d just downed six tequila shots.

  “I don’t. But I still want to see what it looks like.”

  He huffed. “What if he took the brunette there?”

  “Doubtful. Too far from the party.”

  Shifting uneasily in his seat he turned to me. “Fine, sex pad it is. But only from the outside – and you’re letting me take you to a bar afterward.”

  Uber dropped us off in front of a really cool bungalow style home in the center of the Venice Canals. This was my first time in this neighborhood, and I was shocked to see how beautiful it was. There were gardens that ran down the sidewalks; they were lush and breathtaking. The moonlight reflected off the waterways causing a charming, fairy-tale atmosphere. It was elegant and serene, and unbelievable that it rested in Los Angeles a few blocks from the wild and eccentric town of Venice Beach. It was exactly where I would envision Roan living.

  I pictured him sitting on his porch, his shirt off, reading his Kindle as the sun shone down on his chest and people stopped to talk to him. I imagined the ducks in the water quacking for a piece of bread and Roan, being so annoyed he finally gives in, though the signs clearly say not to feed them. I could definitely picture Roan living here, and it brought a smile to my face because he’d told me a few times in the past about his home and I knew he loved it. I was in love with it and I’d only been here five minutes.

  The houses were close together, I wondered whom he lived next to and if he was friendly with his neighbors. I peeked over to the house on his right, it was huge, two stories, and had been recently built. There was a stroller on the deck and all the lights were off—th
e family hopefully asleep for the night. On the other side of him, the house was more like his, a small bungalow, but very well kept. Traffic on Washington Boulevard was a hum in the distance and the sound of the water lapping against the side of the canals was loud in the quiet of night.

  Lounge chairs with big blue cushions rested on his patio and the urge to lie down on one and make myself at home overcame me. Unfortunately, I did not see the potted plant placed strategically on the stairs and tripped on my way to that comfy cushion.

  “I think I broke his plant,” I whispered to Jaxon as he followed behind me.

  There was soil everywhere and a crack I was pretty sure hadn’t been there before running down the side of the terra-cotta.

  Jaxon shrugged. “It’s replaceable.” He grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?”

  He was irritated and I couldn’t blame him. What was I doing? “I have no idea, let’s get out of here.”

  Before we made it off Roan’s property, I heard footsteps behind us. Quickly turning around I found a woman about my age sauntering up the walkway. Like me, she was blonde, but she was very petite, probably only five-foot-two and was dressed in all white. “Oh no! Did Roan drive another one to the looney bin?” She was chewing gum and snapping it in her mouth. Snap . . . bubble . . . pop, then all over again. The sound was driving me insane. I walked up close to her, Jaxon following slowly behind. She blew another bubble and I stuck my finger out and popped it. Her eyes grew huge in surprise.

  “Excuse us, we were just leavin’.” I scooted around her—somewhat of a challenge as she’d rooted herself in the middle of the walkway.

  “Don’t take his rejection too harshly; he’s not one for commitment.”

  I scoffed. “Don’t I know it? Too bad you didn’t take your own advice, honey. Lurking around his place in the middle of the night . . . not the best way to catch a piece of my friend. He’ll promptly look the other way.”

  The women snorted at me. Then she looked me right in the eye. “I’ve known Roan a long time and while that boy is sweet as can be, he doesn’t have any female friends. Don’t kid yourself. You’re as in love with him as the rest of us and he will break your pretty little heart.”

  “Jess, time to go.”

  I stood my ground even though Jaxon was pulling on my arm.

  “Sounds like you know from experience.”

  “Every girl in Venice Beach knows from experience.” She looked me up and down and continued, “It’s clear you aren’t from here, you look more like the Beverly Hills type. Not really Roan’s style but I guess he’s gone through all of us - he needs to get his kicks somewhere.”

  My hand curled into a fist. I wanted to deck this girl or slap her silly. Telling me I wasn’t Roan’s type. Maybe I was the only girl on this earth who was his type. That electric vibe always played around the edge of our friendship. Roan seemed as entangled by our out of control chemistry as I was. Yet, neither of us knew whether to act upon it.

  Jaxon saw my body tense, saw me get ready to leap at her; he wrapped his arms around me to contain me.

  The girl walked away, content that she was able to get her message across.

  “Jess, let’s go. I know a bar down the street we can continue our drinking spree.”

  I took a few deep breaths to get myself back in check. If that girl was suffering from a Roan-induced broken heart, she had no one to blame but herself. Men like Roan couldn’t be tamed, but at least Roan was honest about it. He never claimed to be anything that he wasn’t. He was a good person: if she went off and fell in love with him, that was her own damn fault. Crap. What was I saying? If I let my guard down, I could be that girl.

  Jaxon led me down the road.

  “Where are we goin’, Dimples?”

  Flashing said dimples my way he grabbed my hand. “There’s a little dive bar on the corner. I think you’ll like it.”

  I gave him a little squeeze to tell him I was in.

  came home to find two potted plants turned over, my sprinklers on, and it looked like someone had been hanging out on the lounge chairs that were on my back porch. There was something shining on the wood planks of the deck and I bent to pick it up. Strange, a woman’s earring and an expensive one at that. My mind instantly drifted to Jessica. What was it with that woman? I’d never gotten attached to any female in my life, in fact, the thought scared the crap out of me, yet I wanted more of this Southern Belle and her contrary moods.

  It was late - close to two in the morning - I was beat - sexually frustrated and more confused than ever before in my life. I’d tried to make it with the brunette after Mason’s party but she smelled like beer and pretzels - not Jessica. We’d been kissing on her couch when it hit me, nothing was standing at attention, and that had never happened to me before. I could have conjured up an image of my favorite Texan, replayed her twang in my mind, and imagined she was the one whose lips were attached to mine, but it wouldn’t have been good enough. I wanted the real deal.

  I’d quickly left her house and walked around Sunset Boulevard, drinking in random bars and trying to get my head on straight. I knew this was a phase. It had to be some sort of you-only-want-what-you-can’t-have issue. Because I definitely wanted Jessica and I definitely could not have her. I thought if I could get my hands on her, even for only one night, this obsession I had with her would die down. I hadn’t had sex in months. Every time I tried to get into some girl’s pants, I compared everything about them to the southern firecracker who had consumed my every waking breath. No other girl would do and I wasn’t doing Jessica so I currently wasn’t doing anyone. It was a crap situation to be in and one I’d never experienced before.

  My phone rang, snapping me out of my obsessive thinking. I recognized the number and took a deep breath. Why the hell would she be calling me? Luana Lee, a Fijian native who ran parallel to my parents in the reason to never settle down with one woman. My body gave a slight tremor at the thought of her. I hadn’t heard from this chick in years, so the fact that she just rang me was not a good sign. I pushed it to the back of my mind, hoping it was some sort of accident.

  I walked around my house and looked out at the canal. The moon was full and reflecting off the water, casting shadows all over the walls of my living room. I opened the sliding glass door that led out to my patio and sat down on one of my dark blue lounge chairs. It was quiet. The only sound was the water making a gentle roll along the edges of the waterway. A dog barked in the distance and an owl hooted in response. My mind drifted back to Jessica and the way she looked at me tonight when I pulled her closer toward me. I wondered what she did once I left the party and if she even cared that I’d gone home with someone else. There was always a current of sexual tension between us. Every moment I was with her the urge to run my fingers along her skin and get as close to her as humanly possible roared through me. I wanted her and it was pretty clear she wanted me too, but giving into our physical desires was a bad idea . . . a very bad idea, however, I couldn’t keep my distance from her either.

  I had a sudden urge to call her and hear her voice. Over one hundred reasons flowed through my mind as to why that wasn’t such a smart move. I pushed them all aside and picked up my phone.

  “Hello?” She sounded groggy.

  “Hey, Goldilocks, did I wake you?”

  “No, I just walked in the front door, but I may fall asleep on you, so don’t think I’m rude.” She yawned. “Is Miss Nice Ass passed out next to you and that’s why you’re callin’ me?”

  “Very funny, and no, she’s not.” Now that I could hear her voice more clearly, she was slurring her words. “Locks, are you drunk?”

  “As a skunk.” She yawned again.

  I burst out laughing. “Shit, I wish I had stayed to see that. You actually got a little out of control tonight?”

  “I got a lot out of control and I’m sure I’ll be paying for it tomorrow. I was in your neighborhood all night Roan. That town you live in is wild.”

  She was in Venic
e? I picked up the earring I had found outside. “Would you happen to be missing an earring?”

  The distinct sound of ruffled bed sheets met my question. “Oh crap! I only have one in. Did I lose it at your house?”

  “Since I’m holding what looks to be a very expensive diamond I’d say yes. What were you doing at my place, Locks?”

  Complete silence followed my inquiry.

  “Locks?”

  “Jaxon took me to some dive bar in Venice and I wanted to see where you lived, so we walked to your house,” she suddenly blurted out.

  “You went drinking with Jaxon?” I felt like I was drowning and I had no idea what this feeling was or where it had come from. On the one hand, she wanted to see where I lived, on the other, she’d spent all night with Jaxon.

  “We ended up at some place on the corner of your street and got in a drinking contest with a few bikers. Jaxon actually won. Although he puked the minute we walked out of the place so I guess his tenth shot of Goldschläger was one too many.”

  I knew the bar she was talking about. It was rough and my go-to place when I needed a stiff drink. It wasn’t necessarily the safest hangout for a rich southern girl to be on a Saturday night. Apparently, they were able to hold their own and the fact that Jaxon was there to stand between her and the tatted-up bikers made me feel a little sick inside.

  I had spent most of my time at that party keeping her away from Jaxon. Of course, that’s who she hung out with the minute I left. I’d basically given that guy carte blanche to have her. It was my turn to take her back.

  “What are you doing tomorrow? You owe me for toppling over a few of my potted plants. I could use a hand fixing them.”

  “I don’t owe you anything. Remember that. It was probably the nasty girl you screwed over who dumped your plants. Your reputation sucks, Roan.”