Resist (#2): The Riptide Series

by Brooke Page

  “Yes! That’s the one! Let’s check out the other racks then go try them on. I think I’ll make Colt wait tonight, or not give him anything at all.”

  I furrowed my brows at her. “So you still want to hang out with him?”

  She grumbled, yanking another dress from the rack. “Either I hang out with him in the flesh or he stalks me, either way I’ll be with him. Why not make him suffer more? This hot pink one looks super short, I’m going to try it on.”

  I shook my head, taking a mint colored dress with the same design as the white one. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “You know, we need men in the middle of the ones we have. Yours is moody and unpredictable, while mine is suffocating yet sweet. Maybe our time at The Shore is coming to an end.”

  I frowned. Leaving The Shore meant no more ocean breeze or cool sand, no more touristy shops with trinkets and hermit crabs. No more YaYa or her delicious authentic Mexican cooking. But the worst, would be no more Vance. Even if he were a come-and-go kind of guy, I wasn’t done spending time with him yet. I’m not sure if my heart could take completely separating myself from him and the life I’d been living here. I loved opening the doors to the little surf shop, even the tedious jobs of keeping it in order didn’t bother me.

  “Come on, let’s go try these on,” Marcy urged, glancing at the front door when the chime rang from a customer walking through. Her shoulders sagged in relief when it was a woman and not Colt sneaking in behind her.

  “You’re being paranoid,” I sighed, opening the single stall to change. “He’s probably bored. Besides Vance, who does he hang out with? He doesn’t have any family, right? And they don’t talk to Tucker anymore.”

  Marcy threw me another dress before I closed the door. It was a yellow one with swirls of white at the bottom. “Still really weird. Why not say, hey, I’ll close shop and come with you guys then?”

  Yanking off my tank top and pulling down my shorts, I wiggled into one of the dresses. “Probably because you told him you wanted space? Hey, come in here and help me zip this, will you?”

  I opened the door for her, and she came inside, hanging her dresses on one of the hooks and closing the door with both of us inside.

  “Yeah, but following me? Come on…he’s being crazy.”

  We both shuffled around the stall, helping each other with the zippers.

  “Hi, yeah, I’d love to see you tomorrow night,” a girl spoke on the other side of the stall.

  She startled me at first, but I continued with my clothing.

  “Vance, why are you so sweet?” she giggled.

  Both Marcy and I stopped breathing, our eyes catching each other’s gazes. Her brows were narrowed, while mine were probably near my hairline.

  “Want to come to my place after?” she asked, then silence followed, and a hushed snicker came after.

  I held my hand over my heart, feeling it beat rapidly. Was she talking to my Vance?

  “What are you doing tonight?” her voice faded as if she were walking away.

  Marcy clenched her jaw. “Call him. Now.” Cautiously opening the door, she peeked her head out, then tip-toed out of the stall.

  I dug through my purse, trembling at the thought of Vance talking to another girl. He didn’t have time to have another girlfriend, or was that why he was always gone? And technically, we hadn’t had the boyfriend/girlfriend talk. Maybe he didn’t even think of us as exclusive? My breaths became faster, an unrecognizable ache filling me. I could barely type through my contacts to find his name. I paused when I did, taking a few deep breaths to collect myself. Finally gaining the courage, I hit call, swallowing the cotton in my throat while it rang.

  Sneaking out of the stall, still in the white dress, I found Marcy, pretending to look through a rack of clothing, then followed her line of sight to a blonde-haired girl blushing and grinning like an idiot. I knew her look. I had it on my face whenever I was with Vance.

  Marcy crept toward her, a fake smile slabbed on her face. I was mortified, hiding behind a clothing rack.

  The phone continued to ring, well past the amount of time when his voicemail would take over. Moistness filled my eyes, and my lip quivered when I hung up, only to call again. Still no answer, and the blonde continued to look insanely happy, laughing randomly, then a pout formed on her lips. She smiled one last time, then hung up the phone, and greeted Marcy. Not two seconds later, Vance was on the line.

  “Hey, sorry, I was on a business call,” he greeted.

  Fucking liar.

  “I, um…” I coughed, holding my throat as if it would help me to control my breathing. Soon, I’d be hyperventilating, and I wanted to avoid losing it.

  “Lauren? Are you alright?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

  I shook my head, a tear falling down my cheek. “I, was… umm, seeing if…” I sniffed into my shoulder, biting into my skin for a moment, taking slow breaths to gain my composure.

  “Do you need something? Are you scared? I can call Colt to come help you,” he offered.

  Colt? Why was his answer to always have Colt come to the rescue? Now I knew it was because I wasn’t his only conquest. My heart was shattered. Doing my best to keep it together, I answered, “No, I’m fine, caught off guard.”

  Marcy was at my side, her brows knitted, and eyes filled with sympathy. I hated when people felt sorry for me. I’d gotten pity my whole life.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  There was silence between us, and I thought I was going to lose the miniscule amount of control I had gained.

  “I’m excited to see you tonight. I’ve missed you. I want another day on the beach.”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks, furious with how he could sound so sincere, yet he was clearly lying through his teeth, and he was good at it too. Pissed off at myself didn’t even cover how annoyed I was with falling for his act.

  “You’re actually going to make it?” I asked flatly.

  “Of course, why would I miss it? It’s been a few days, and I’ve got a busy weekend. I’m going out of town.”

  “Right.”

  “Right?” he repeated. “Did I already tell you?”

  “No, I assumed you wouldn’t be around.”

  He sighed into the phone. “I’ve been distant, I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve told you I’m not good at this.”

  I huffed, my laugh a result of tension.

  “Look, I can tell something is bothering you. We’ll talk about it more tonight, okay? I’ll pick you up at YaYa’s with Colt around seven.”

  Man, he was really good at sounding like he cared. “Alright. See you then.”

  I hung up before he could respond.

  Marcy stuck her head around the corner, a storm brewing in her eyes. “Her name is Abby, and if anyone asks, I work here.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lauren

  “We don’t have to go,” Marcy said, sitting on the counter of the bathroom. I was getting myself ready for the evening, putting on more mascara than usual.

  Marcy bit her lip, her brows furrowing while she watched me. “I mean, as much as I want you to hand his ass to him, I’m worried you’ll regret it, or…”

  I let out a deep breath. “I’m not going to spiral out of control like my mother.”

  She shook her head. “I worry is all. I know Vance meant a lot to you, and it hurts, trust me, I’ve been there too many times.”

  Closing my eyes, I willed myself not to cry. I needed to be strong tonight. “It’ll all work out, right?”

  She met my gaze in the mirror, and by the curve of her brows she wasn’t sharing my optimism.

  “I can pack my things within an hour,” she offered, hopping down from the counter and fluffing my freshly curled hair.

  I gave her a smile through the mirror. “Thanks, Marcy.” She really liked Colt, but his stalkerish ways were beginning to freak her out.

  “I love you, Lo, and as much as I hate Harris, I know you’re not
ready to leave it yet.” She kept fussing with my hair. “Besides, Colby is there. He’ll always let you lean on him.”

  “I don’t deserve him,” I sighed, shaking my head with shame.

  Marcy tugged on my hair so I’d look at her. “Hey, we all need to find ourselves, and if we do, and it sends us back to where we came from, it’s okay. Colby loves you, whether it’s romantically or as a friend. If he didn’t like your relationship, he’d leave. Don’t feel bad if he wants to be there for you.”

  I took another deep breath. “I know he would.”

  Marcy gave me another grin. “If anything, you’ll have Vance drooling all over the place. You look sensational.”

  I flushed, my eyes finding the mirror. I hardly looked like myself. The fresh kiss of sun caused me to glow, and my makeup was on point--eyes dark and smoky, lips plumped and coated with a new shade of red. The white dress wasn’t in my normal wardrobe, flowy and short. I’d have to hold onto it with my hands if the wind picked up. I’d be lucky if Vance even recognized me tonight.

  “Marcy, Colt is here,” YaYa, announced from the living room.

  “We’ll be out in a minute!” She yelled back, then looked to me. “I can tell him we don’t feel good.”

  “No, let’s go,” I said confidently, giving my hair one last toss with my hands and turned on my heels, ready to take on Vance Everett.

  “Ladies,” Colt greeted, holding his arm out for Marcy to take. She smiled, but I could see right through it, she was apprehensive to trusting him, but took his arm anyway. “YaYa, I promise to have them back at a decent hour.”

  “If not, I’ll come get them,” she promised, rocking in her chair. “Niña’s, be careful.”

  “We always are, Grandma,” Marcy smiled, kissing her on her forehead.

  I did the same, and she took hold of my arm.

  “I can tell your sad, but trust me, Lo Lo, Everett men aren’t people you should be seeing. He doesn’t have good intent, and he’s never been trustworthy. It runs in his blood.”

  “I’ll be careful.” How did she know I had been hanging out with him? He hadn’t stepped foot in her house, and on the rare occasion he’d brought me home, he’d hide amongst the shadows. “I understand.”

  “Let’s go, Lo,” Marcy urged, tipping her head in the direction of the door.

  “Bye, YaYa,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.

  The three of us trucked down the stairs to Colt’s car, and all of my nerves went on high alert when I saw Vance sitting in the driver’s seat. Colt and Marcy made their way to the back, and I reluctantly slid in the front, dreading looking Vance in the eye.

  “Hey,” he greeted, putting the car in reverse and heading onto the strip.

  I didn’t say anything in response. My stomach was in knots, my body wanting to shrivel into the seat. Maybe I should have faked sick and high-tailed it back to Michigan. He was always hounding me to see my mother, now I knew the real reason, so he could keep me hidden from his other conquests.

  “The bar was already packed when we drove by,” Colt sighed. I checked in the review mirror, seeing him with his arm slung around Marcy. She had her arms and legs crossed.

  “Surprised you noticed,” Marcy deadpanned.

  Colt only knitted his brows in her direction. It was a blow to his stalkerish ways.

  “We aren’t going to go there,” Vance bit.

  Colt frowned. “I thought you said we were?”

  He glared at Colt through the mirror.

  My eyes narrowed. Was his other girlfriend going to be there? “What’s wrong with The Hangout?” I asked.

  He glanced at me, then his eyes found the road again. “A lot of tourists are there tonight. I figured you’d want to go somewhere quieter.”

  By how he was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, I knew he was nervous.

  “No, the crowd makes the live band more fun,” I snapped. “I want to go there.”

  “That was the plan,” Marcy added from the back.

  Vance’s jaw clenched. “I guess, but if it’s crazy we should leave.”

  “When has The Hangout ever gotten crazy?” Marcy, muttered. She was more annoyed tonight then I was.

  Vance kept his mouth shut, and instead of turning, he continued down the strip toward the touristy bar. Finding a spot in a nearby hotel parking lot, we all got out of the car to make the trek through the sand toward the bar. A bouncer was at the door, a sign the family crowd had left, and the college kids were beginning to show up.

  Vance grabbed my arm before we went inside.

  “Hey, come here,” he stopped me, his eyes on Colt and Marcy who were headed inside under the multicolored lights.

  He took me in from head to toe, then released my arm. “Is everything alright?”

  I glanced at him, not sure how to call him out on what I had heard at the clothing store. One of his hands found my cheek, his eyes still examining me.

  I cleared my throat. “Will you get me a drink?”

  He raised a brow. “As in, alcohol?”

  I nodded, tilting my head away from his hand.

  “Yeah, I can get you something.” Both his hands found the pockets of his board shorts. He knew I wasn’t fond of drinking.

  “Hey, Vancy,” the bouncer greeted him. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Who’s this you’ve got with you?”

  “Hey, Tony. This is my friend, Lauren.” Vance’s hand protectively found my lower back. Why was he introducing me as a friend, but then touching me as if I meant more to him? I wasn’t his property.

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” I greeted, not wanting to come across as a bitch to a stranger, although I was fuming inside.

  He checked me out from head to toe, and Vance’s arm curled from my lower back to around my waist. If the man’s roaming eyes didn’t frighten me so much, I would have knocked Vance’s arm away.

  Once Tony was done perusing me, he made eye contact with Vance. “You fishing tonight?”

  Vance gave him a grin. “Not tonight.” His grin faded some. “Anyone else here?”

  Tony shook his head. “To fish? Nope. Not yet.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  Keeping his arm around me, we found our way to the bar. I brushed him away when we sat down. His brows furrowed at my nudge.

  A server swayed her hips our way, batting her eyelashes in Vance’s direction. “What can I get you, Vancy?” She purred. Why did everyone know who he was?

  “My usual, and an iced tea,” he asked politely.

  “Actually, I’ll have a Mojito,” I added, although she was completely ignoring me. She only grinned at Vance. “Sure,” she smirked, then went to make the drinks.

  “I didn’t know you fished,” I said quietly, forgoing the rude bartender.

  He blinked, recalling the conversation with the bouncer, then shrugged his shoulders.

  “I didn’t know you liked Mojitos.”

  I glared at him, annoyed he didn’t answer my question.

  Holding his hands in the air in defeat, he answered, “Sometimes a group of guys go out at night. I haven’t gone in a while.”

  I played with a napkin on top of the stained wooden bar top. “If you want to go, you can. You don’t have to entertain me.”

  Vance leaned into my space, his arm resting across my back and grasping my bicep. He was surrounding me, and even though I had my doubts about him, the scent of his cologne was sucking me in, inviting me to nuzzle into his neck and wrap my arms around him.

  “A boat full of men sizing up their poles is nothing compared to spending the night with you,” he murmured against the shell of my ear. Kisses began being peppered along my cheek.

  The bartender brought our drinks, her lips pressed together as if she had swallowed something sour from the sight of Vance doting over me. Vance didn’t even acknowledge her.

  Both his hands brushed my curls from my face. “You look beautiful tonight,” he breathed. “I wish your eyes would match the half-hearted smile you’
re forcing.”

  I frowned, my damp eyes meeting his. I couldn’t speak, because if I did, I’d cry, and I didn’t want to look like the weak little girl I had been my whole life.

  While I looked at his face, I couldn’t help but notice a slight bruise under his eye, along with a healing cut. “What happened?”

  The lids of his eyes fluttered closed, and I ran my fingertips along his wounds.

  “Oh, yeah, I took a gnarly fall one morning while I was kitesurfing. Hit some coral.”

  He coiled away from me and went back into his space, taking a sip of his beer, washing down the obvious lie.

  We were quiet, now he was on edge as much as I was. Did something more happen than an accident during kitesurfing?

  His arm stayed on the back of my barstool, his gaze constantly scanning the crowded room. Maybe he was worried Abby would walk through the door and come up to him? Or some other chick he’d been seeing?

  His arm stayed on the back of my barstool, his gaze constantly scanning the crowded room. Maybe he was worried Abby would walk through the door and come up to him? Or some other chick he’d been seeing?

  When our drinks were refilled, Vance stood from his seat. “Want to take our drinks outside? It’ll be quiet on the beach. The employees don’t normally allow customers back there, but they won’t care if I go.”

  “Sure.” The live band had started playing, and the thumping beat was encouraging my aggravation. Preparing to face my fears, I would confront him outside. I couldn’t let his charm or ridiculously good looks distract me.

  Vance followed close behind me, his free hand finding my hip. “This dress is short,” he mumbled against my ear, tracing his fingertips to the back of my exposed hamstring. “Don’t bend over unless I’m behind you.”

  “I’m not planning on bending over tonight,” I snapped, irritated with his innuendo.

  He backed off by my warning tone. “Did I do something wrong?” Both of us instinctively tossed off our flip-flops the moment we hit the sand.

  Stopping me with his hand, he asked, “Is everything alright? Did something happen with your mom or back home?”