Once Parker is up behind the boat, I take the opportunity to talk to Haylee. “I knew you were great out there four years ago, but now. . . damn Hayles, you're incredible,” I smile.
“Thanks,” she says again after taking a sip of her beer. Her hair is flying all around her face and I can see tiny droplets of water clinging to her long lashes as she looks up at me from beneath them. I know without a doubt that she would kill at a competition but I'm not sure if that is anything she is still interested in or if she's tried it out. It was something we all talked about back in the day, and she is definitely at that level.
I glance over my shoulder and out to the wake to check out Parker's skills. Sorry, but as a guy, I simply can't resist sizing up the possible competition. I don't have to look for long. He's okay. He can hold his own out there, but he has nothing on Haylee and Griff for sure.
I finish my beer just before Parker crashes and burns. It's my turn now and I hate the thought of leaving Haylee here in the boat with Parker, but I told them all I'd go and they'll wonder what the hell is wrong with me if I don't. I flip the ladder down even though I don't really want to. He climbs back in and grabs another beer on his way back up to the front, high-fiving Max on the way.
I pull my t-shirt off and throw it into one of the side compartments and pull on a life vest.
“This better be good, man,” Griff taunts me as I toss out the board I am borrowing from him. I shoot him a look over my shoulder before I jump off the back of the boat. Max straightens the boat out and pulls the rope taut. As I float there in the water, I notice that Haylee has returned to the front of the boat. I am hoping it is just to get a better of view of me out here and not to hang with Parker.
Chapter 7 - Haylee
Being in a boat again with Chase is surreal. We spent so many days out here just like this, or with Brynn anyway, so why does it suddenly feel so different? I try to clear my head as we speed out along the water. I love the feeling of rocketing over the surface of the lake in a boat or on a board. It is powerful and euphoric, and I need to channel some serious euphoria right about now. When Max cuts the engine, he immediately asks Chase if he is up first. They are all chomping at the bit to see his new mad skills. I am too but I'm not about to let anyone else know that.
Chase declines and I have a moment then where I wonder if it's possible that he really is still the same guy after all. He'd always been so humble and quick to put other people and their needs before his own. I guess I assumed after the way he described his life in California that he would have changed or that his fame would have gone to his head. It is obvious though that that is not the case.
“How 'bout you Haylee? Ladies first?” Max asks then, turning over his shoulder to look at me.
“Griff's first today,” I reply and reach for my beer. I am unusually rattled about hitting the water today and I need to get in a little more liquid courage first. I never hesitate to get out there and am normally scrambling to be the first one up, but I can't stop wondering about what Chase will think of me now. Will he be disappointed that I'm not better than I am? Will he have a laugh at the small town Carolina girl now that he's seen all the big time California girls? I have a lot of pressure on my shoulders here. I am the only girl out here today, which isn't all that uncommon and certainly never bothered me before, but I can't let the boys see my hesitation. They would assume it has something to do with my lack of a Y-chromosome when it most certainly does not.
Griff shouts out one of his typically cocky responses and then I hear him hit the water. While we are waiting for him to get set, Parker stands up from where he's been sitting across from me and slides down right beside me. Then as Max revs the engine, Parker slinks his arm across my shoulders. I glance up at him with a frown but he doesn't seem to notice.
Parker asked me out during my junior year of high school. We had already known each other through Griff at the time. We went to one movie where Parker spent the entire time groping me and I spent the entire time pulling him off of me. I explained to him afterward that we couldn't be anything more than just friends, that I wasn't interested in a relationship. I'd dated a little bit in high school, but I never felt a spark with anyone and never even went on a second date. I had enough baggage weighing me down that I'd become kind of closed off in that regard.
Parker told me that he understood and from then on, he and Max started hanging out with Griff and I a lot more often. They are nice guys and seem to be easy enough to get along with. They always help out with gas for Griff's boat, or we use Max's boat. The trouble is that Parker is apparently a really 'hands on' kind of guy--with me at least--because he is always finding excuses to touch me, put his arm around me, hug me, and so on. I had said something to him about this on many, many occasions but he always just shrugs it off and insists that he knows I only want to be friends. To some extent, I stopped caring and just got used to the way he is, but every once in a while he needs a little reminder that I am not his, well, anything, beyond a friend.
Today is especially one of those times. I just want to be left alone to sit and think and brood in peace. Part of me also seems to be a little more hyper-aware of his antics because I am also aware that Chase is here. I can't help but wonder what Chase will think of my relationship with Parker when he finds Parker's arm around me. Chase certainly has no right to just assume anything about me. Still though, I don't want him to think that there is something between me and Parker, because there definitely is not.
Max spins around to pick up Griff and I know it's my turn now. I guzzle down half my beer hoping to numb some of this anxiety, and try to be blunt as I shove Parker's arm off of me. As I stand up, I glance back and find Chase watching me just as I'd been afraid of. He smiles and his look is so intense and focused on me that I force myself to quickly look away. I don't need any more butterflies, as a whole flock are fluttering in my belly already. I pull off my tank and toss it into the side compartment and hand Max my beer to set aside for me. I slide into my life vest and lean over the edge of the boat to set my board in the water. I swear I can feel Chase's eyes burning holes in my backside and my face flames at the way that makes me feel inside.
Max shouts something to me, but I'm already in the water by then. I pull my feet into the boots on my board, grab the rope, and wait for Max to ready the boat. I give him a thumbs-up signal and then I am gliding on top of the water again. The beer must be working because I feel a warm flush throughout my body and that familiar adrenaline rush that I love so much takes over. I don't think about who is in the boat or what the future holds as I drive in and out of the wake and spring the board up into the air. I feel weightless for a few brief seconds in the middle of a trick and it's pure bliss. Nothing pulling me down, nothing heavy or unsettling. My focus is so narrow that there is no room in my head right now for all the problems in my life. It's really too bad I can't just stay out here forever.
As usual I have no idea how long I've been flipping and spinning behind the boat but fatigue begins to set in and I catch an edge and splash down into the cool lake. Those few moments beneath the surface of the water are another kind of zen for me. From the noise up above--the humming of the boat motor and the slapping of the water beneath my board--to this heavy, pure silence and stillness. Two extremes but I crave them both when life is too out of control.
When I surface, Chase is at the back of the boat looking down at me with those bright blue eyes of his and he takes my board for me. I fight the exhaustion in my limbs as I climb up the ladder. Chase turns, almost bumping into me, we are standing so close. He reaches down and hands me a towel and I manage to squeak out a small 'thanks' before I basically collapse onto the seat behind me. I don't feel like walking all the way up to the front and dealing with Parker and his paws right now.
Max asks Chase again and he defers his chance once more, so Parker dons a life vest. Of course Parker can't walk past me without sliding his hand down my arm as he tells me I had a great run before he jumps in.
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br /> I am flattered beyond belief when Chase tells me that he thinks I looked incredible out there, and I find my cheeks burning again. I hadn't felt anything close to that when Parker told me the same thing. I'm certainly not the type of girl who is always looking for compliments but this particular one coming from my childhood best friend who knows exactly where I come from means the world to me. He also happens to be a famous wakeboarder now, so his opinion holds even more clout. I can tell from the expression on his face that he's sincere, not that I ever doubted the old Chase. In some ways, I feel like I no longer know the guy sitting beside me, but then subtle things -- like a look in his eyes, an expression, or a moment of that same old humility -- make me feel like just maybe I do know him still.
Once Parker is back in the boat after his run, Chase finally stands up. He reaches up behind him and pulls his t-shirt over his head and my eyes go wide and my whole body freezes. I gleaned through the snug fitting cotton of his t-shirt that he is well-defined, but seeing his tanned skin, broad shoulders, and beautifully sculpted muscles without it has me practically panting. As he turns just a bit, I can see his chest, which is absolutely gorgeous. Then I notice a tattoo over his left pectoral muscle, and I can't help but stare. He obviously hadn't had it when he left and I wonder when he got it and what it means. I can tell that it is the silhouette of a wakeboarder in a grab but there is something in the center of the board that I can't quite make out. He slides on a life vest far too quickly for my liking, and now I have yet another reason to be left obsessing over him. I find it unnerving to see the evidence of the distance of all these years. I used to know everything about him, and it's a slap in the face to realize that is no longer the case. I need to come to terms with the fact that with four years gone missing, there will be a lot of things that I haven't been a part of. The same goes for him; there are things about me that occurred over the last few years that he doesn't know anything about.
I grab another beer and head up to the front of the boat. I'm not trying to be close to Parker again, but this spot will give me the best view of Chase.
And what a view it is. He pops up out of the water and goes directly into a backside corkspin without even getting a feel for the wake or the board he is using. He's flipping and tricking like he was born to do just that and the boys in the boat are screaming their encouragment like we are at some kind of wild sporting event. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I watch Chase out there and listen to the noise around me. I watch the muscles of Chase's body move and flex with each spin and trick he performs, and there is no pause or hesitation between them which means his balance and board control are phenomenal. My heart is racing and I can feel a dull ache forming down low in the pit of my stomach. My hormones are going wild over this show, and I've never felt anything quite like it. I may have just found something as addicting as wakeboarding myself--watching Chase do it.
He is absolutely amazing to watch but I get the feeling that he still isn't putting it all out there. He seems to be holding back just a bit, which I'm sure no one else has picked up on. The only reason I can come up with is because he isn't interested in showing off in front of us while he's out there. He's just doing what he is so obviously talented at and having a great time. I find myself disappointed when he drops the rope and slips down into the water, as if my favorite movie has just come to an end.
Once Chase is back in the boat, the guys decide to head over to a certain cove where the water is always calm to swim for a while and drink some beers, as if we aren't already doing plenty of that. Parker throws the anchor over the bow of the boat and I watch as Max begins blowing up a floating cooler. He loads it up with beer and tosses it over the side so we won't have to keep climbing into the boat. Boys and their toys. I dive off the bow first and hear a few shouts and splashes behind me as the rest of them jump in, including Sam. For the next few minutes the boat becomes our diving board and we take turns spinning and flipping off of into the water. With the amount of belly and back flops, I feel like we should have a video camera going to capture these stupid human tricks.
Finally our stomachs hurt so much from laughing that we just float around drinking. The water feels chilly to me after a while so I climb back up into the boat and spread a towel out along the bench seat in the front. I lie down on the towel and enjoy the feeling of the sun's rays on my chilled flesh. Sam is doing the same on the floor beside me. I can't believe how much my abs ache. Some of it may be from boarding, but I suspect more has to do with all the laughing. It's been a very long time since I've laughed like that. Griff and the guys are always goofing off and making me chuckle, but this is different--freer somehow.
It's pretty quiet over here in this particular cove so as I lay in the boat sunbathing, the guys' voices carry across the water's surface easily. I close my eyes against the glaring sun and listen to them. Griff and Max are grilling Chase about what it is like to compete in the King of Wake series. It is the biggest series of wakeboarding competitions around, and there is even a place here in North Carolina where they come each year. I've never been, so it's interesting to listen to Chase as he describes it. Plus, the sound of his voice is like a familiar balm to my soul and makes me feel at ease.
It makes sense that Griff has the most questions since he and I had kicked around trying a competition sometime. Something smaller at first, of course, but it cost money to enter. Mom and I are doing okay financially since Dad's death, but I certainly don't need to be throwing money away at wakeboarding competitions when I can come out here and bomb around almost anytime I want. Dad had things in good order when he died, even though he shouldn't have had to worry about leaving us at such a young age. Mom works and that's good for her, because she desperately needs something to focus on other than the fact that she lost her partner and best friend. They were so close, so it really is no surprise that she still isn't over it. I also work here and there whenever I can. Griff's dad is awesome and lets me come in and help out at his clinic when I have a chance, and a few families around the lake who knew my dad and me paid me to give their kids wakeboarding lessons. Griff did that with me from time to time as well. It is enough to put gas in the boat and keep up with my equipment. Mom knows that I help out Dr. Michael's, but she doesn't know about the lessons, so I can't do it a whole lot.
I'm suddenly drawn back to the guys' conversation as I overhear Parker asking Chase what the 'chicks' in California are like. My heart stills as I listen for his response.
“I guess the biggest difference is that a lot of them come from money and they're entitled and pretty shallow,” Chase tells him. I feel like a kid trying to eavesdrop on my parents.
“But are they hot?” Max emphasizes.
“Yeah, some of them are pretty hot, especially if you like them enhanced,” I could hear that Chase's voice has gotten softer and I feel like someone has shoved a knife into my heart.
“I bet they're all over you at those competitions,” Parker speaks up. “How many did you nail?”
I swallow hard and put my arm up over my eyes as I feel tears building behind my eyelids. I'm used to hearing guys talking about girls like they are objects and I never really gave it much energy because the girls who put themselves in those situations probably know they are being objectified and don't really care. This is totally different though. I'm not a naïve fool. I know that chances are Chase has hooked up with girls over the last few years. I mean look at him for God's sake! I can just imagine girls literally throwing themselves at his feet. Chase has always been easy on the eyes, but he'd never been a one night-stand kind of guy though. I don't want to think about Chase and his probable hook-ups though, and I sure don't want to have to listen to it.
“That's really none of your business, man,” Chase replies and I hear the other guys scoffing and blowing off his remark. They are trying their damndest to get a response out of Chase, but I don't hear anything more from him. The conversation shifts then and I hear them talking about some friend of theirs
who has just found out he is going to be a dad. It is a small town and word travels fast, and usually faster if it is negative.
I'm startled as the boat rocks back and forth a bit, and when I lift my head up to find out what is going on, Chase is using a towel to wipe the water from his face and hair as he stands in the main part of the boat. His torso is covered in little droplets of water and the sun reflects off of them giving his whole beautiful body a surreal kind of glow.
Naturally he catches me drinking him in and gives me a crooked smile. He turns the radio on and up just a bit, effectively drowning out the other guys' conversation before he strolls up to where I'm sunbathing and sits down across from me. I prop myself up on my elbows and I fear he's really starting to affect my mind before I realize that I have quite a buzz going. That would certainly explain the mushy feeling in my brain and my overly emotional state.
“I didn't mean to wake you. I just thought if I turned the radio on and those guys carried on for a while, maybe we could finish talking,” he explains.
“I'm not sleeping,” I reply as I pull myself upright so that I can look him in the eyes. I probably shouldn't have admitted to being awake in case they'd only been talking like that because they thought I was sleeping, not that they'd ever held back around me before. I can't remember how many beers I've had, but things are feeling. . . um. . . far too warm and comfortable. I can't keep my eyes off of him, and I find myself glancing down at his tattoo again and having to drag my eyes away. Okay, maybe my 'comfortably numb' has progressed right along to 'climb onto his lap and stick my tongue in his mouth.' I might be in trouble here.
Second Chances Page 6