Foolish Games

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Why don’t you drop me off at Jazz’s?” Abbot said.

  “Throwing a tantrum ’cause I won’t help you get your dick wet?”

  “No. My car is still there. I’ll shower and call the girls, let them know we’ll hang out some other time. I’ll just meet you at the shack later.”

  “Fine.”

  After we dropped him off outside a massive white rendered house, Kristian met my eyes in the rear-view mirror and said, “I’m not your chauffeur.”

  I took that to mean that he wanted me to sit up front. I climbed over the back of the seat then clipped myself in. “Happy?” I asked, pulling the baseball cap from my head and shaking my hair out.

  He grinned. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “What’s to like?” I teased.

  Shaking his head, he chuckled then turned the Ute around in the driveway and headed back out.

  “Your brother seems pretty disappointed that you didn’t want to party with those girls,” I said after a while.

  “He’ll get over it.”

  “I hope it wasn’t because of me.”

  He sighed. “I’m just tired of fucking around.”

  “The soul of every guy who ever lived just screamed in agony over that sentence.”

  He laughed. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, picking out a piece of grass that was caught in the fabric of my leggings. “I think keeping things casual has its benefits. If you aren’t hoping for anything you can’t get upset when it doesn’t work out.”

  “Yeah, well it gets old. I mean, I see how Sam and Nate are, married and settled, and they’re so fucking happy about it. Sam’s wife is really cool. She’s the sweetest thing you ever met in your life, all wide-eyed and innocent but with this crazy fight in her.”

  “She’s the one who kicked Johno in the nuts?”

  He chuckled fondly. “Yeah. That’s her, the bride from last night.”

  “Sounds like you have a crush on her.”

  “Nah. It’s not like that. She’s like the sister I never had. The whole dynamic of our family has changed drastically over the last year. We’ve been through a lot together and she makes it all better. I guess I’m just changing my outlook.”

  “You want some meaning in your life,” I stated.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, a frown creasing his brow. It seemed he hadn’t thought about it like that before.

  “I get it, man. We’re all searching for meaning somewhere.”

  Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. “I guess. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this shit.”

  I shrugged. “People always spill their guts to me. It’s a gift. I’ve got an open face or something. It puts people at ease.”

  “Giving you the perfect opportunity to rob them, huh?”

  Pressing my lips together, I looked out the window, not dignifying the jibe with a response. I didn’t need to be reminded of who I was. I lived with that knowledge every day and didn’t once pretend I was a good person.

  By the time Friday rolled around, I’d mowed about twenty lawns, cooked multiple dinners, and cleaned their place from top to bottom—Cinderella had nothing on me. Honestly, it was exhausting. Not only was I working my arse off, but I was under constant watch. Even in my sleep I had someone beside me, reacting to my every move. The moments where Kristian or Abbot spoke to me kindly were few and far between. But I was eager for the conversation when it came. Call me lonely, call me intrigued, but I enjoyed those moments when it felt like they forgot to hate me. It made me forget to hate them for a moment too.

  With Abbot needing to run some errands, it was just Kristian and me for dinner. I had no idea what a quiet Friday night usually entailed for these guys, but I hoped it involved a lot of sleeping. I could definitely go for that.

  Despite my bone weariness, when we got back to the shack, my eyes drifted longingly towards the roiling surf. Perfect surf conditions.

  “Would it be against the rules for me to go for a surf? Or at least a swim.” The idea of hitting the water to cool down seemed like heaven.

  “After we get this equipment cleaned and locked away, I’ll take you down.”

  I didn’t understand why we kept hosing down mower blades that kept getting filthy again, but I helped him get everything tidy and stored back in the shed.

  “Surf or swim?” I asked as we entered the house.

  “Surf,” he said, grabbing a pair of board shorts from the top of the laundry basket that had been on the floor next to the couch since yesterday, waiting for me to fold it.

  He walked through the house, stripping off his shirt, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement. Then he stopped at the laundry door and threw the shirt inside before removing his pants and adding them to the pile.

  “Go on then,” he said, glancing at me before he pulled his shorts on. “Get your suit on.”

  “I’m not supposed to leave your sight, remember?”

  “Then leave the bedroom door open.”

  Brushing past him in the hall, I entered the bedroom and dug through my bag, finding my bikini and rashie. I stripped quickly and re-dressed, feeling his presence the entire time. He wasn’t watching me, couldn’t even see me from the hallway. But he was there all the same, his existence this oppressive being that crept into every space.

  At least you have a roof over your head. Maybe he’d settle down in time, dial back his contempt for me, and give me space to breathe. He didn’t seem entirely unreasonable, and I kept catching glimpses of a guy who loved fun in the way he interacted with his brother. Kristian and Abbot had wrestled and joked their way through the workweek, Kristian’s serious side seeming reserved for his interactions with me. I didn’t know if he had to remember that he disliked me, or if there was just something about my presence that pressed all his buttons the wrong way.

  “Interesting tattoo. I keep meaning to ask you what it means,” he said when I emerged from the room, my legs bare, but the rest of me covered in my surfing gear.

  I looked at the script that surrounded my left thigh. “Oh, it’s elvish or something. I got it from Pinterest.”

  “Isn’t that the One Ring to rule them all from Lord of the Rings?”

  “Same font, different words.”

  “What does it say?”

  “We’ve all got light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.”

  His brows lifted a touch. “Deep.”

  I shrugged. I’d gotten it on a whim. At the time, I thought it would be a good reminder to stay on the straight and narrow, to better myself, but it seemed my dark side kept winning.

  “You got any tats?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t really do identifying marks.”

  “Except the freckle on your chin.”

  His hand floated up and he pressed his fingers to the spot as his eyes narrowed slightly then he relaxed his entire stance with the release of his breath. “Boards are in the shed,” he said, leading me outside.

  Chapter Six

  You’ll Never Be Done With Me

  Kristian sat in the middle of his board, his features a little harder to make out as the sun set behind him. “You’re good.”

  My lips curved wider than they had in months. “I’m out of practice.” The words came out in pants. “And out of breath.”

  He shrugged. “No matter how tired I am, I always have energy to surf.”

  I had to agree. The power of the ocean awakened a limitless energy inside me as well. Torquay’s main beach wasn’t as fun to surf as Bells or Jan Juc, but when it was at your doorstep, it certainly did the trick. I never wanted to return to dry land.

  “Then why haven’t you been surfing all week? It’s not like you had to travel.”

  “Babysitting your arse.” He flicked water at me.

  “I’m not going anywhere, you know. You can relax a little.” I wiped a hand over my face as wa
ter ran from my hair past my right eye. “I pay my debts.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, thinking God only knew what. But I felt weird under his scrutiny, so I turned my face towards the horizon and wondered how long it would take for me to evolve into a mermaid so I could survive out here.

  I said as much to Kristian.

  “You want to be a mermaid?”

  “It’d be pretty cool. Sleeping on the ocean floor, catching fish in your teeth, riding waves all day for fun. The only things you’d have to worry about are the sharks.”

  “And box jelly fish.”

  “True.”

  “And fishing nets, killer whales, sea snakes, moray eels, blue-ringed octopus and let’s not forget microplastics. Those are really fucking with the sea life.”

  “You’re a ray of fucking sunshine, aren’t you?” I said, my daydream crumpling into a nightmare before my eyes. “Way to stomp all over something really cool.”

  “I’m a realist.”

  “You don’t like to imagine a life different to the one you have now?”

  A frown creased his brow as he cocked his head slightly to the side. “Look around you, Ronnie. What more is there than this?”

  I did exactly that, took in the beauty of our surroundings as I inhaled the sea air. “I guess the perspective is different when you live right on the beach,” I said.

  “You live in the same town.”

  Looking back to the horizon, I watched the disappearing glow as the sun slipped farther from sight, leaving pinks and purples in the sky. “We might live in the same town, but we don’t have the same life.”

  It must be nice being at the top of the food chain, being able to do whatever you pleased without worrying about money, or even where you’d sleep that night.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked through the silence.

  “Do what?”

  “Block us.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Sure you do. We took your car. You found us, took it back. Then suddenly we couldn’t unload a single thing. That’s quite a lot of power for someone who mows lawns for a living.”

  His mouth kicked up at the side. “Hungry?”

  “That’s not answering my question.”

  “There was a question?” It seemed he was being intentionally vague.

  “Why did you do it?” I repeated.

  With a sigh, he kicked his feet back and forth in the water. “Why does anyone do anything?”

  “Because they can.”

  “Exactly. Why did you fuck with my Ute? Why did you steal it in the first place? Because you could.”

  “Wrong. I stole it because I needed money. Then I fucked with it because I hate you for ruining my life.”

  “I ruined your life?”

  “You and your family.”

  “That’s putting a lot of power at our feet, doll. You sure you didn’t fuck it up all on your own? Don’t think I didn’t see the coke in your bedroom that day. I know I didn’t put that there, but you used my money to pay for it, right?”

  My jaw clenched. After taking Kristian’s Ute, Johno and I found his wallet in the glovebox. There was cash in it, so we decided to celebrate and detoured past our dealer’s place. Back then, it was the way we celebrated everything. I was never a full-blown addict, but I’d spent a lot of my life partying. I hated that he was using that against me. I also hated that he was probably right.

  “I don’t do that stuff anymore. But it’s beside the point, your family—”

  “Did you a favour,” he boomed over the top of me. “That shit fucks everyone up. If we hadn’t done what we did, you’d have kept going around, stealing shit to feed your habit, and you’d probably be in prison right now. Which incidentally, is exactly where that boyfriend of yours is.”

  Johno is in prison? I held my shock in the centre of my chest and kept my expression calm. “So you admit it,” I said, my eyes locked on his.

  To my surprise, he laughed, a rich rumbling sound that entered my ears and did things to my body that I’d rather not admit. I almost smiled watching him.

  “How about we catch one more wave before we head in? I’m starved, and you have a meal to cook.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” I said, saluting him. It was obvious our conversation was over, and I wasn’t getting any more information. In a way, I got what I wanted anyway—they blocked us from working simply because they could, and somehow Kristian twisted it to sound like an act of benevolence. Is Johno really in prison? I hated to think that if we’d stayed together, I could be too.

  Positioning for the next set, Kristian glanced my way then smiled in this way that lit up his eyes. The animosity we felt toward each other dropped away in the anticipation of catching a wave. We just smiled at each other.

  “Race you to shore?” As he spoke, the twinkle in his eye told me he was really just a boy wrapped in a man’s body. A crazy-hot body.

  “And If I win?”

  His grin widened. “I’ll let you pee with the door closed.”

  It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

  “You’re on.”

  Then he took off, paddling with his powerful arms as the wave crested behind us.

  I was only moments behind, launching myself forwards as the wave lifted me up, the water roaring behind me. I popped up, staying low until I felt steady enough to rise. Then I laughed, forgetting to be pissed off as I rode that thing all the way to the shore, only stopping when the sand wedged against the board.

  “It’s no good for the board to ride it into the sand,” Kristian said as he came up behind me, carrying his board under his arm.

  “You’re just a sore loser. You probably get off on watching me pee,” I teased, still smiling.

  His eyes flicked between mine before the tiniest of frowns flitted across his brow. “I don’t get off on you at all.”

  Wow. Consider my face slapped.

  Once again, we were catapulted from light-hearted conversation into an uncomfortable silence as we returned to the shack. Kristian was a difficult man to be around. One minute he was barking orders, the next we were arguing, then just as fast we were laughing, only to slip back into the verbal snipes that were so well timed and precise, they cut me to my core and made me feel like the piece of shit I knew I was. Considering the short time we’d spent together, he knew how to push my buttons remarkably well.

  “The fuck?” Kristian muttered as we got closer and music hummed in the air. At first it was a distant beat. Then it got louder and louder until we were close enough to see. A party. Right in front of the shack.

  Kristian growled and shoved his board into my arms. “Motherfucking twins who don’t listen.” He stomped off, and I rushed to keep up.

  “Krissy-boy!” Abbot stood from the plastic chair he was occupying around the firepit and welcomed his brother with open arms. I rested the boards against the house and stood back to observe.

  A couple of girls were there—one with a necklace that said ‘Karen’ and the-one-with-the-tits-whose-name-I-couldn’t-remember—as well as two other guys who had ‘surf bum’ written all over them. I was pretty sure I’d seen them around town at some point. Sitting around, drinking and surfing seemed to be their entire MO. Nice life.

  “What are you doing?” Kristian demanded, the annoyance clear in his tone as he absorbed the small party on the front lawn.

  “Enjoying life. Something you should also be doing, brother.”

  “Oh Em Gee. You guys are brothers?” The girl with the tits said with wide eyes. She’s clever, that one. I hid my smile behind my hand. Kristian didn’t even bother with a response.

  “You’re an arse.” Kristian shoved Abbot in the chest. “I’m going inside. Keep it down out here.” They only seemed to get louder.

  Kristian swept past me and headed into the house. I followed dutifully behind, then accepted the beer he handed me once we made it to the kitchen. One thing I had to say was that he kept his ‘slave’ fed
and watered well. I never had to sit and watch him or Abbot eat or drink without joining in.

  “Can you believe him?” he lamented after downing almost half of his and slamming it onto the table. “We’re thirty-three, and he still thinks he can act like a teenager, and that he gets the fucking final say because he’s four fucking minutes older.”

  “And you expressly told him you didn’t want a party too,” I pointed out, keeping my voice calm as I agreed with him. Personally, I didn’t care if there was a party or if we all sat around staring at the wall for hours on end. But since this guy was calling all the shots in my world, I was going to back him up and let him vent. It may have seemed calculating, but in my experience with men, they didn’t want women to challenge their way of thinking. Once, I dated a guy for a few months who got real riled up whenever things didn’t go his way. If I did anything that looked like I didn’t agree with him, I’d cop it. So, I learned to listen and agree. Men just wanted someone to tell them they were right.

  “Exactly. I couldn’t have made it any fucking clearer. Just because it’s a Friday night, doesn’t mean we need to party. Fuck. It’s like this merry-go-round that we’ve been on since we were seventeen.” He picked up his beer and downed the rest of it before going to the fridge for another. “I want off.”

  “Off the merry-go-round?”

  “Yes. I love a party as much as the next guy, but there has to come a time when it isn’t all we do.”

  Listlessness seemed to be a curse for the wealthy, I supposed. I would love to get to a point in my life where I’d had too much fun.

  “Have you always shared a house?”

  Watching the level of his second bottle of beer get lower and lower, I moved around the kitchen and opened the pantry. He’d be onto his third in a moment. If he was going to drink that fast, he’d need food to soak it up.

  “What are you doing?” he asked when I pulled out a pack of pasta and a jar of sauce.

  “You said you were starving. I’m making dinner.”

  Necking his beer, he kicked out a chair and sat at the dining table that dominated the room. There wasn’t much bench space, so I used the table to gather all my ingredients: chicken, bacon, cream cheese, mushrooms, spinach, along with what I‘d already taken from the pantry.