by A. J. Sand
And he was claiming tonight as his.
Fuck what anyone else had to say about it.
As the event was also a huge party, large floodlights illuminated a bar area and a large stage for a DJ and dance floor, which were now occupying an area where vendor tents had been earlier in the day. The spectators awaiting the arrival of the surfers cheered when they spotted Wes.
“Deuuuuuuuuce!” the crowd called. “Deuuuuuuuuce!” It echoed into the night like a howl. No, a battle cry, and Wes, who delighted in the attention when he walked through a tunnel of people greeting him, was ready for war.
When he had a spare moment, Wes performed his ritual for luck, three hard taps to the spot on his arm where the date of his first ever contest win was tattooed, then he stripped out of his t-shirt and into his surf shirt. He thought he heard someone announce Brody Swift’s arrival, and on impulse, he swung his head around, trying to spot Lana. Although he had expected the spite he had felt from seeing them together—and that kiss—to disappear, it hadn’t. And it was only feeding his need to beat Brody tonight. The question of why she’d be hanging around such a douchebag was not only confounding him but also pissing him off.
He soon noticed an audience of women whose conversation slowly frayed to silence as they watched him, and he smiled and signaled for them to come over. But his smile fell immediately when Lana appeared in his line of sight, just behind the women, swerving through the crowd with her arms linked with the two girls at her side. She was in another pair of shorts and a tank top, and with her hair wavy and blowing all around her face, which was catching portions of the moonlight, she looked stunning. Wes’ gaze moved in the direction she was headed—right to Brody and the surfers on his team. A dark feeling pressed through his chest as he watched her. Anxiety.
What the fuck?
“Wesley, you are such an attention whore…” Dylan said, laughing and aiming her camcorder at him as she approached.
When he turned away from her, the women were gone. “Hey, Senorita Cock Block. And it sounds like you’ve got a case of the sour grapes, girl. Don’t be mad you missed your chance to get up on this.”
She pointed to her earbud wedged in her ear. “Kai just heard all of that. He’s threatening you with bodily harm.”
Ignoring her, he slung his arm around Dylan’s shoulders as they trudged through the sand. “Think your libido can handle you filming with all these surfers around?” he joked.
“You just got me in more trouble!” she said, pinching his side. “You know I don’t have water-proof camera housing, right? And I kinda don’t want to get in.”
“Don’t worry about that, baby, there’s a guy who’s handling that. You just need to get me being awesome before the contest.”
She laughed. “Kai says call me ‘baby’ one more time and you’ll be a hit-and-run victim the next time he sees you. I gotta go. Miss you, too. Miss you more. No…I definitely miss you more. Okay. Love you bunches, babe. Lots of bunches. More. Bye.” Dylan pulled her earphones out.
“Y’all are disgusting. When are you going to make an honest man out of Kai White, Dyl?” he teased. Her eyes narrowed, and he thought he had offended her, but she was casting her gaze over Wes’ shoulder. He knew immediately who she was looking at, even before she spoke and confirmed his guess.
“You know that girl, don’t you? You were staring at her during the skateboarding semis. And a few minutes ago. Wes, is that her boyfriend? That Swift guy?” Dylan asked as they walked.
“Honestly, I don’t know, Dyl.” Casually hooking up was one thing, home wrecking was wholly another, even if it was Brody. He shrugged, decidedly not looking at Lana when they walked past her and her friends; it’s not like her stare was strong enough to impale them.
“It’s not my business, I know that.” Dylan stopped walking and gripped his wrists, her eyes filling with concern.
Wes made a face. “Dyl, you can talk to me about anything.”
She nodded. “It’s just that…this seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Abe filled me in on your issues with Brody—”
He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, you’re way too hot to be my mom. Don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not trying to!” A tight smile bloomed on her lips. “Just be careful, okay? Please?”
“Of course…nothing to worry about, Dyl.” He kissed her forehead and gave her a tight hug.
“She’s cute though.”
“She is. Can you believe she rides a motorcycle?”
“Really?” He felt a little self-conscious as she pressed out a dreamy smile. “You really like her, don’t you?”
Wes shrugged, tossing an indifferent expression her way. “She’s cool. We have a good time.” He was trying to be nonchalant, for himself, for Dylan, he wasn’t sure, but the truth was he had unknowingly been investing in Lana emotionally. His reaction to her and Brody revealed as much; he couldn’t deny that to himself. “We both got what we wanted. Nothing serious at all. Nothing more than usual.” It was easy to speak about her in past tense but his feelings weren’t there yet.
“Deuce!” Christian was waving at him. “You’ve whored yourself enough tonight. Leave Kai White’s girl alone. Get over here, dude!”
Dylan burst out laughing. “I’m going to meet people and film a little. Have fun out there.” She ran off to where Leko was, grabbed his hand and they vanished into the forest of boisterous shadowed bodies. As Wes headed for the other surfers, his gaze slammed into Lana, and she responded with an enthusiastic wave, to which he swiveled his hand once or twice. Her smile fell. The Brody thing was serrating his nerves.
She raised her shoulders and mouthed, What?
Brody, he mouthed in response and continued his walk without looking back in her direction. Brody and Lana? Seriously? Brody could get his share of women, no doubt, but Lana? How the hell did he get her? What did they even talk about? Did they talk? Was it a purely sexual relationship? Fuck. He shuddered. Fuck. Certainly they didn’t discuss books. The only lines he’d ever seen Brody get his face close to were made of white powder. Shit. The thought of Brody touching her was crawling through his mind now—he could actually feel its bristles—and burrowing images of them having sex in there. It was maddening not to look in Lana’s direction again.
Why is this even bothering me? She can have sex with who she wants.
But…
Brody fuckin’ Swift?
“Deuuuuuuce…” the guys said in unison when Wes approached, and he huddled with his teammates. They were not all guys from Lava or even sponsored surfers, but favorites from Oahu as voted on by surfing fans on a website set up for the event. The other surfers had selected him as their captain; Wes found this most amusing.
Someone retrieved a bottle of liquor and showered their shot glasses with tequila, and as the men toasted, Wes said, “Surf your hearts out, boys. Bury them. Don’t die...because while I have all your mommas’ phone numbers, that isn’t what I planned to use them for.” They burst out laughing but the noise cut out abruptly as he watched all of them tense up.
“Hey, Deuce…” Brody swung his arm over Wes’ shoulders, appearing on his left. “Deuce. Number two...is that as in…shit?” Wes felt like something hot had just been dropped down his shirt, and somewhere on this beach Lana’s eyes were probably pinned to him. He could just feel it. A grumble rose amongst his friends, they were soon crowding around Brody, and Wes opted to curb his own irritation. Testosterone, alcohol, enemies and competition were the perfect recipe for multiple arrests and assault charges; so, it was time to diffuse.
“Why the fuck are you over here, dude?” Abel asked, walking straight up to Brody, but Wes strong-armed him with a palm to the chest and pushed him back. He was pretty sure Abel’s disdain for Brody had developed completely in loyalty to him. As much as Brody’s face would’ve benefitted from being at the end of Abel’s fist, it just wouldn’t be worth not getting to surf tonight.
“The,” Wes said with a smirk at
Brody after he tore his arm off his shoulder.
Brody’s brow creased. “What?”
Somehow he found Lana in the crowd, and she was staring as he had suspected. She was close to them, but still in the background, and he suddenly had an unexpected urge to make sure she saw him embarrass Brody in the water. He turned back to Brody. “The shit, Brode. The.”
“Don’t call me Brode. And don’t think for a second you can beat me out here. You guys didn’t last year, and you won’t tonight. This is my house, dude.”
“But…I don’t think everything in it is yours…” Abel muttered, spiking his gaze over to Lana was just a beat.
“What the fuck does that mean, Elliott?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Wes said, intervening. “How about we just save the shit-talking until we settle it out on the water, all right?” He appreciated Abel’s efforts, but he suspected that Lana was more like him, incapable of really belonging to anyone.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Wes?” Lana suddenly snatched his wrist and pulled him away from the group before he had any chance to respond. Her touch swept heat through his hand, drove electricity deep into his loins, as she pulled him all the way to the edge of the dance floor.
“Hey, Lan…I think you grabbed the wrong guy,” he said, his words wavering between jest and bitterness. “And you aren’t even supposed to be here.”
Lana sighed. “Plans change.”
“Is he your boyfriend? ‘Cause I don’t fuck girls with boyfriends.”
“No. But our situation is…complicated…” Lana’s stoic expression was perfectly coupled with the vague response. “And that better not be the ‘Are you going to screw him in the bathroom, too?’ look,” she warned.
“I have no judgment on where you get laid and with who. Trust me, my life would be a whole lot better if society and women would just let other women bang who and how they wanted. But…banging Brody being the exception. My problem is strictly that you’re hanging out with Brody Swift. I don’t know a whole lot about you, Lana, but I do know Brody. And even with the little that I know about you, I have a hard time believing you two have anything in common.”
“You’d be surprised,” she muttered before a huge grin broke out on her face. “What happened to the spirit of Roger and Jessica Rabbit? Opposites attracting?”
“Nice try. Roger’s no dick.”
She chuckled. “Brody’s not perfect, but he’s not that bad, Wes.”
Was she serious? “Once you stick a ‘that’ in there, you effectively let me compare him to whatever I want…” Wes tilted his head until Brody was in his line of sight and aimed an arrogant smirk at him before returning his gaze to Lana. “…Like, say, getting your dick caught in a meat grinder. So yes, comparatively, he’s not that bad.”
“When would you ever get your dick caught in a meat grinder?”
“It’s been in stranger places…” Wes replied and they both laughed, but then he got serious as he scanned her. The way she looked tonight induced fluttering in his stomach, and a need to touch her. And a desire to feel the rough dig of her nails when his mouth left hers and moved south along her torso. He wanted the viral anticipation of how wet she’d be by the time his tongue reached what he was craving.
“So…he wouldn’t care if I pulled you closer and licked that spot on your neck you like so much?” Wes whispered as he brought his hands to her waist, and she reacted to both his touch and his words. Her breaths hitched for a few seconds and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “Or if I turn you around and kiss your shoulder like I do when I’m behind you?”
But then Lana’s eyes narrowed and she leaned in close to him, lips adjacent to his. She gripped the back of his neck and pulled his face against hers. “Are you putting on a show in front of him? ‘Cause I don’t like that. I have no interest in being the commodity to be won in some pissing contest between you two.”
He really had just wanted to reminisce about being with her. He wanted the smell of her skin. The way her hair felt between his fingers. The sound of her voice. Her snarkiness. Her laugh. In the moment, everything about her felt so heightened to his senses and memories and perception. Wes pulled back and frowned. “My problem with Brody predates you, Lana. And I have no interest in fighting over you. The whole point of this…” He pointed between the two of them. “…Is to avoid fighting. Do I like that you and Brody have…whatever it is you have going on? No, but—”
She wrenched his hands from her waist. “There’s nothing going on, Wes.”
“Your nothing sure involved a lot of public hugging and kissing. And I bet he was the one calling you that day at my house when you got all weird. That’s why you wouldn’t answer. It was fuckin’ Brody Swift.” Wes gasped. Shit. Where had all of that come from?
He caught the rapid pulsing of her jaw muscles, and she looked flustered momentarily before calm settled in her eyes. “Whoa. Did I shit bricks over Kiera at Vices Hollywood? What happens outside of us isn’t even supposed to be relevant, remember?”
He sighed. “It’s not…” Until it involves a guy I can’t fucking stand. Knowledge had a way of mucking things up. Maybe Kiera had had a point at Vices Hollywood.
“Okay…so, you’re mad because it’s Brody. Just because it’s Brody?”
“What other reason would it be?”
She shrugged, pulsing out a smile. “I don’t know...”
“You follow surfing, so you know what happened years ago with me, but beyond that, he’s a dick. All of those guys he hangs out with have literally been banned from contest surfing. Brody’s hanging on to his sponsorship by a thread. I can’t even begin to tell you half the shit I used to see him do at after-parties overseas.”
“I’m not going to apologize for knowing him but, I get it, Wes, you’ve made your point…” Lana said with defeated frustration. It was then that he realized how adamant and insistent he really sounded. He was going out of his way to bad mouth the guy. Was he just angry…or was he…was he jealous? No.
Fine, goddammit, he was jealous.
But he didn’t want to live in a world where that was “a thing.”
With a squeal, someone hopped onto his back, ending their tense conversation for the time being. “Hi, cousin! Hey, Lana!”
“Hi, Little Elliott,” Lana said happily.
“Hey…Char,” Wes said with confusion thick in his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Umm…I always come to the U.S. Open…” Charlotte replied, and her tone bordered on defensiveness as she jumped down to his side. “Don’t act like seeing me here is a big deal.” Her gaze brushed past Lana’s head as she rubbed the back of her neck and rocked on her heels; Wes sensed evasion in her fidgety gestures.
“Yeah, but you usually come down with me and Abel...and have you been drinking?” He could smell alcohol on her breath.
Her head snapped in his direction. “Jesus, Wes. Your car was full! Ugh. I came down with my friend, Keith, to see you, you know, not to be interrogated.” After a long roll of her eyes, she smiled sweetly at Lana. “So, are we good with that thing I asked you about?”
“Yeah. Next week. I’ll call you,” Lana said, winking at her.
“What thing? You two talk?” Wes asked.
“Do I have to run who I’m talking to by you, too? Maybe you can put a locator microchip in my ass like I’m your puppy.” Her whole body clenched, and the irritation bleeding through her sarcastic words had also tightened up her features. “I’m not a kid. Cut it out.” He dodged her forceful stride past him.
“It goes in their backs, Char!” Wes called out after her, laughing as he watched her go until the darkened mob soaked her up.
“She’s right, you know. You gotta let her be, Wes, or she’ll pull away…trust me.”
“You’re just siding with everyone who’s against me tonight,” Wes muttered.
“That’s so unfair…”
And childish. “What were you guys talking about? You and Char.”
&nb
sp; “If you must know…when I gave her The Remedy passes, she asked me if I could help her get a job at Vices so she could make some money before the school year started to help you and Abel out. I couldn’t, but I got her something down here in O.C. through a friend; it’s at one of the surfing apparel stores on Main. I told her it’ll be a rough commute because of the traffic, but she still wants it.”
“Lan! We’re gonna toast with Brody and the guys before they go out!” some woman shouted from a few feet away.
“Coming!” Lana replied. “Good luck, Wes. Just so you know…I’m rooting for you.” She gave him a soft peck on the cheek, squeezed his hand and strode off into the crowd. Who cared who she was rooting for? She was going off to see Brody. The irritation from before strengthened as he watched her. The Brody baggage was clearly that punch line the Almighty liked to throw into a situation that would otherwise be perfect, just to show everyone who was boss.
The D.J. lowered the music to announce that the night surfing session was about to begin. Judging would focus on style, innovation and trick difficulty; they wouldn’t even have to paddle out since the guys on the Jet Skis would tow them toward the waves. This was purely about showing off—aerials, combination maneuvers, flips—and all of it would mean one move closer to ten grand in winnings and another fifteen to a charity of their choice.
“Wes!” Ignoring the voice, he continued to stare at Lana as she interacted with her friends. She was speaking, but the look in eyes revealed that she wasn’t really listening, just performing deliberate gestures to pretend she was. Lana ran her hand through her hair and her gaze fell to him, expressionless.