“Apologize?” I spat. “I didn’t do anything.”
He chuckled and glanced at my mom behind us. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my life it’s that sometimes you have to apologize for nothing.”
I shrugged off his hand. “Yeah, well, Ari is nothing to me.”
He grinned at me and laughed. “Oh, son, you keep telling yourself that. Come on.” He motioned for my mom, and she stepped forward, grabbing his outstretched hand. The two went ahead of me, the guards following. “Say you’re sorry, Liam,” my dad called back, since I still stood in the same place. I watched them disappear into one of the shops, and up ahead, Ari sat on the railing with a cup of ice cream in her hands.
“Fuck it,” I cursed under my breath. I headed over to the ice cream stand and ordered chocolate ice cream in a cone. With my cone in hand, I headed over to where Ari sat and hopped up on the railing beside her.
I wasn’t going to say I was sorry. I hadn’t done anything, and I wasn’t five anymore and had to listen to everything my parents said.
“Your presence is choking me. I’m dying as we speak.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my smile. “You hardly look like you’re dying. Besides, my presence gives people life. I’m so fucking wonderful.”
She shook her head, dark strands of her hair falling forward over her shoulders. “More like dreadful.” She licked the vanilla ice cream off the spoon, and a rainbow sprinkle stuck to her top lip.
I stared at her lip and at that tiny blue speck. I wanted to take her face in my hands and lick it away, but I didn’t. Instead, I swiped it away with my thumb.
“Sprinkle,” I muttered, when she looked up at me with a questioning gaze.
I swallowed thickly and inhaled a deep breath. I was losing my mind around this girl. She was tilting my whole world off its axis, and I didn’t like it. No, that wasn’t it. I did like it, and that was the problem.
When I left Virginia for California I vowed no women, no distractions, just the surf. My goal had been to go pro, which I did, and now I wanted to stake my claim to the ocean. I’d proven myself enough to be accepted, and I had to show I was there to stay, and I was more than my father’s last name. I wanted to be remembered as a fucking fantastic surfer. Not as a rock star’s son. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the guy, but I was just sick and tired of being treated differently because I grew up with a famous dad, lots of money, and connections. I’d heard the whispers, the rumors, the ones the fucking tabloids printed, like I somehow had my dad buy my way into a surf career. As if knowledge of the ocean and how to tame it with a fucking board could be bought.
“Oh,” Ari gasped, licking her top lip and pulling me from my thoughts.
“Have you ever been to a pier before?” I asked her, remembering how awed she’d seemed when we arrived.
“No,” she shook her head, “I grew up in Nevada just outside of Vegas.” She pressed her lips together. Her eyes narrowed, almost like she was silently scolding herself for letting that slip.
Another truth to file away.
“Vegas.” I clucked my tongue. “Hmm.”
“It’s a dirty, greedy place,” she spat, glaring down into her cup of ice cream like it was what had offended her.
“It is,” I agreed.
I’d been to Vegas a few times, and each time the place made my skin crawl.
“I don’t feel very hungry anymore,” she muttered, chucking her cup into a nearby trash bin.
I finished my cone and nodded toward the arcade. “Wanna go?”
She looked up at me skeptically.
“Come on,” I coaxed. “I promise it’ll be fun.”
She looked up at me through her thick, dark lashes. “I’m not sure our ideas of fun are the same.”
I ducked my head, stifling a laugh. I loved when she got spunky. “That’s probably true, but I can’t do much damage in an arcade surrounded by children.”
“True.” She tipped her chin toward the arcade, contemplating what to do. “Okay.” She finally shrugged. Leveling me with a glare, she said, “But don’t you dare let me win anything. If I beat you, I want it to be genuine.”
I stared down at her, fighting a smile, but my face stayed serious. “I don’t lose.”
She hopped off the railing, and even though she stood inches shorter than me, she suddenly seemed much taller as she leered at me. “Funny, because I don’t either.”
She turned sharply and headed into the arcade.
I hopped off the railing, following her, my eyes glued to her ass as it swayed in the tight pair of jean shorts. I swallowed thickly, hating the power she had over me but loving it at the same time. It’d been so long since I’d felt so out of control.
But I couldn’t deny that there was so much about her that I didn’t know, and her reaction to our early morning kiss said a lot. I’d get to the bottom of it, though. I’d never met a challenge I couldn’t conquer, and Ari was no different.
Ari
I came home from work completely exhausted. It was only the day before that I’d been out on the pier with Liam and his family having a good time—a much better time than I’d expected even after Liam had uttered, “What happened to you?”
He’d let it go easily, which I was thankful for. There were no words to explain what happened to me, because nothing could explain the horrors I’d lived through.
I opened the door to my bedroom, dropping my bag to the floor before closing the door. I immediately ripped off my pale-blue polo shirt, wanting to rid myself of the smell of grease and fried food. My hair fanned around my face, little fly-aways escaped from the ponytail.
I kicked off my shoes and was reaching for the button on my shorts when I saw the items lying on my bed.
My breath left me in a small gasp as I strode quickly over to the bed, wanting to touch the items and confirm they were real before I let my excitement set in.
I picked up the large sketchbook and flipped it open. I ran the tips of my fingers over the thick paper and breathed out a happy sigh before bringing the sketchbook to my nose and inhaling the scent of fresh paper. A grin lit up my face, and I was helpless to contain it. My hand already twitched with its need to glide across the page and bring to life the images in my head.
I picked up the pencils and cradled them and the sketchbook to my chest.
“Thank you, Liam,” I whispered, even though he wasn’t there to hear.
I’d felt like I was missing a limb being without a sketchbook. It helped me to cope and quiet the chaos in my head. It was the one outlet Blaise had allowed me, and I cherished it like a precious stone.
I set the items back down and quickly removed the rest of my clothes so I could shower and change into something clean. Once I no longer smelled like a grease ball, I could draw.
I took the fastest shower of my life, scrubbing my body with probably too much vigor, but I couldn’t wait; the need to purge my thoughts and feelings into the pages of the sketchbook was too much.
Once I was out of the shower, I tied my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and changed into a pair of gray cotton shorts in a soft cotton material and a loose t-shirt with a heart over the left breast. I grabbed a jacket, just in case it was windy out, slipped on a pair of black flip-flops, and tucked the sketchpad and pencils under my arm.
I passed Liam’s parents in the family room, and they both waved in acknowledgement. I didn’t see Liam, but that wasn’t unusual. He might be in his secret room that no one is allowed into. I was totally rolling my eyes at that thought. I mean, seriously, what is in there?
I opened the sliding glass door and headed outside, down the stairs, and to the beach.
I kept my head low as I walked across the beach. A few neighbors were milling about, and the last thing I wanted to do was speak to a stranger.
I finally found a spot where tall grasses grew. I plopped right in the middle of it, letting the outer grass shield me from passersby. I’d probably end up red and itchy from th
e grass, but it’d be worth it.
I opened the sketchbook to the first crisp page and pulled a pencil from the pack.
My hand glided over the page in light strokes, forming the shape of a person starting from the shoulders up, head tilted to the side and eyes raised to the sun.
Liam.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was the first thing I wanted to draw.
My tongue stuck out between my lips as I worked, sweeping my hand over the page.
When the drawing was done I immediately turned to the next page. I found myself drawing Ollie and Talia, standing in front of their Volkswagen van. Ollie was smiling down at her, and Talia had her head lifted up to his with a smile on her face. They were honestly some of the sweetest people I’d ever met, and while I’d been leery of them first, I didn’t know what I’d have done without them. They’d saved me—helped me escape without even realizing it.
I finished that drawing and then I couldn’t help but do another of Liam.
And another.
I was like a fucking junkie.
“Is that me?”
I jumped, clutching the sketchpad to my chest and looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun. It was only beginning to go down, and it haloed behind Liam, casting him in shadow. I couldn’t see his face to read his expression, but knowing him, it was twisted in a scowl.
“It’s a person,” I stated blandly.
“It looks a lot like me.”
He set his surfboard down on the sand a few feet away and strolled over, moving like an animal stalking its prey, and lowered to the ground beside me. He was wearing a pair of white swim shorts, and his chest was bare, glistening with droplets of water. His hair was wet too, the strands pushed away from his face like he couldn’t stand to have it falling in his eyes.
“Just admit you’re obsessed with me; most people are.” He grinned as he sat down.
I rolled my eyes. “Does your ego have no depths?”
“None.” His smile grew bigger and he bumped his wet shoulder against mine. “Let me see.” He grabbed playfully for the sketchbook.
I watched him in awe. I still wasn’t used to that Liam, but something told me I was finally beginning to see the true him.
I clutched the sketchbook tighter. “No, it’s private.”
“Like a diary?” His brows furrowed, but he didn’t let go.
“Yes, like a diary.”
“All the more reason to let me see.” He winked, and with one yank pulled the sketchbook from my arms.
“Liam,” I cried, jumping at him.
He fell back into the grass with me on top of him, and the sketchbook fell to the side.
“Easy, Tiger.”
I scurried off his chest—totally not paying any attention at all to how my hands felt gliding down his abs—and grabbed the sketchbook, hiding it behind my back.
“Thank you for getting this for me, but I don’t want you to see.”
He grinned impishly, looking boyish and young. “You’ve already filled it with pictures of me. I know it.”
I growled and whipped the sketchbook from behind my back, smacking him in the head with it.
He busted out into laughter.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, I won’t look.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, not believing that for one second. I’d have to find a good hiding spot for it when I was gone.
Liam drew his knees up to his chest and draped his arms over his knees. Tilting his head toward me, his lips twisted into a half-smile. “Do I get another truth today?”
“You got two yesterday,” I countered, still pissed at my slip-up.
“So?” He raised a brow. “That was your accident, not mine.”
“True,” I sighed. “You go first then.”
I didn’t feel as much pressure if Liam spoke first.
“You know that ‘meeting’ I had the other day?”
“The one where you ditched your parent’s the whole day?”
“Yeah.” He nodded with a laugh. “I really did have a meeting, but it was much later than when I left.”
“That’s not your truth, is it?” I glared at him. “Because that’s pathetic, and you know it.”
“No,” he laughed outright, “my truth is what my meeting was for.”
“Oh.” I felt stupid for jumping down his throat.
He stared at me through his narrowed icy-blue eyes, and his lips twitched as he fought a smile. He couldn’t contain it, though, and it slowly spread. “I was with my manager, and I signed a contract.”
“A contract?” I prompted.
“For my first clothing sponsorship. It’s a big deal, and I love the company and the guy running it, so I’m happy.”
I stared at him in a little bit of awe. “I get the impression that’s not something you say often.”
“What?” He looked confused.
“That you’re happy.”
He nodded at my words. “I guess you’re right; I don’t say that often.” He ran his fingers through his hair and set his face into hard lines. “Your turn.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip, thinking about something I could give him that would be a truth but wasn’t too personal.
“I did ballet for five years when I was little. I liked it, but I didn’t love it.” I shrugged, gliding my hand over the tops of the tall grasses.
“Hmm,” he hummed, mulling that over. “A dancer?” He waggled his brows.
“Stop it,” I laughed, swatting his arm.
I couldn’t believe how easily I was smiling and laughing around him. The last few weeks had been difficult and Liam had done nothing to make it any easier with his constant glares and harsh words. But he was trying, and it seemed like he was maybe even starting to like me, and if I admitted it to myself, I was beginning to like him too.
I closed my eyes with the thought.
Stop getting attached, Ari, I scolded myself.
Too late.
Clearing his throat, Liam said, “Please don’t say anything to my parents about the sponsorship. I haven’t told them or anyone else yet.”
I stared at him in shock. “I’m the first person you told?” I couldn’t believe what he was saying.
He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t make it into something it’s not.” He stood up and dusted the sand from his swim shorts. “You should head inside. It’s getting dark.”
He walked off, grabbed his board, and stalked toward the stairs leading to his house.
What the hell?
So much for feeling like he was trying to be nicer. That other Liam still lurked under the surface, and something about my question had struck a nerve.
I shook my head, completely confused by him.
Liam Wade was certainly an enigma.
He was someone I should stay away from.
He was angry.
He was rude.
He could cut you down with words and a single glance.
But he was also sweet.
He cared.
He loved.
He had a heart that was far kinder than most people; that’s why he fought so hard to be an asshole. It was to protect himself, because the heart is a fragile thing.
But he couldn’t protect his heart any better than I could stay away from him, because for me, Liam Wade was the first guy I’d had genuine feelings for, and I secretly craved the push and pull between us.
It reminded me that I was alive.
At least for the moment.
Liam
I set my surfboard against the side of the house before taking a deep breath and stepping inside.
I sniffed the air, and my stomach rumbled.
Food.
I followed the scent to the dining room where I found my parents waiting at the table.
“Sit,” my dad ordered, pointing to the empty chair beside him—he sat at the head of the table.
“Uh… Can I change first?” I pointed at my damp board shorts.
&
nbsp; “Yes, but don’t dawdle,” my mom said like I was five.
I’d avoided them as much as possible, and they weren’t letting that happen anymore.
“I never dawdle,” I mumbled under my breath, turning sharply on my heel.
Ari was coming inside as I rounded the corner to head for the stairs, but I didn’t even acknowledge her presence.
I didn’t want to look at her.
Her words echoed through my skull. “I’m the first person you told?”
She shouldn’t have been. I should’ve told my parents. Or Ollie. Or one of the guys. Anyone else before I told her. But I’d wanted her to be the first person I shared my news with. I was growing too used to her presence, craving it, even. It was dangerous, really, the things I felt for her. I loved and hated that she made me feel again. But I had no room in my life for love, or romance, or anything of the sort. I’d had my heart crushed in the past—guys can have their hearts broken too, you know—and I had no desire to revisit that kind of scenario anytime soon.
I couldn’t trust someone like that again, only to have everything blow up in my face and go down in flames.
I shoved open the door to my room and changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants and an old ratty t-shirt with the Willow Creek logo on it. I figured if I was going to have to endure a lengthy conversation with my parents I might as well get comfortable.
The door burst open behind me as I tugged the shirt down over my stomach, and I popped my head up to see Ari standing in the doorway of my room, red-faced like she’d just run up the stairs.
“That’s it.” She slammed her newly-acquired sketchbook down on the ground, and pencils went tumbling out of their package. I watched as one lone pencil rolled under my bed.
“What’s it?” I asked, trying to play dumb.
“You. I have had it with you.”
I snorted, amused by her reaction.
“I have had it with your hot and cold attitude,” she continued on, striding up to me and standing so close to me that I had to rear my head back to actually see her. “You’re giving me whiplash, and I’m sick of it. I won’t sit back and take it anymore. I’m a human being, Liam. Treat me with some respect. I don’t think it’s a lot to ask for you to be nice to me.” Her anger had waned, but it began to build rapidly again. Her eyes flared with heat, and I was surprised the surface of my skin hadn’t caught on fire.
The Lies That Define Us Page 11