by Jillian Dodd
"You're up early," he says to me.
"I forgot to close the curtains."
"My internal clock is on a different time zone. You wanna grab your board and go out with me?"
"Um, probably not," I say in a sad, pathetic voice.
Damian jams his board into sand. "What's your problem?" he asks in pissed off tone.
"I have a whole lot of problems, Damian. Which one are you referring to?"
"Well, that's one of them, right there. Last night you were crazy. Sometimes you seemed like you were ready to burst into tears. Other times you seemed pissed off at the world. Sometimes there were glimmers of a smile. And other times you acted like a big bitch, just like you are now."
"He put a sticker on my board," I say quietly.
"Aiden did?"
"No, B did. Sometime between when he told me he was leaving and my party."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"He was telling me the truth. He did want to throw me in his suitcase and take me with him. And if I hadn't almost gotten kidnapped and left for Eastbrooke, the next time I surfed I would've seen the sticker and known. And I would have gone to wherever he was."
Damian grabs my wrists tightly. "This has to stop. All this what if bullshit. It's not your fault you were almost kidnapped by some psycho dude. You can only control now. The present. And if in the future you get your life back, then you can decide if you want to give B a chance. But until then, you need to live in the now. It's not every guy that gives you dirt, ya know."
"I only have 79 hours left."
"Until what? Are you dying?" he says in a panic.
"No, although it feels like part of me is. I have 79 hours left until I end it with Aiden. I'm not going back to Eastbrooke."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know yet. Somewhere I can hide out while I try to take over Vincent's company."
"You need to go back. You're safe there."
"I have a feeling that when this all goes down it will not be pretty. Seriously, Damian, it might all blow up in my face. That's why Peyton needs to be just a fling."
"But, if you're not going back, I could date her."
"If he found out you were together and that I went to Eastbrooke, neither one of you would be safe. Don't do that to her, Damian. Don't put her in that kind of danger."
"I have a better idea. You go back and I'll keep our relationship a secret."
"Your relationship? Damian, you've known her for less than twenty-four hours."
"And it only took about two seconds of those hours for me to know. All of a sudden, I'm a fate loving, love-at-first-sight believing, fairytales-can-happen kind of guy."
"That sounds like a song."
"Speaking of songs, I'm writing one. I've never felt more inspired. Everything looks prettier with her in the picture."
"Aren't you going on tour again?"
He gives me a smart-ass grin. "Studio time. Recording a new album, then touring the good ole U.S. of A. And I was thinking this morning, Dad's got a sweet apartment in New York City that I've never taken advantage of, and with my stepmom pregnant, they won't be using it any time soon."
"Your dad and Tommy start filming the third Trinity movie there in December."
"Shit. Well, it's a big place. Or maybe I'll just get a little apartment near your school."
I raise an eyebrow at him.
"Fine. I'm being impetuous and crazy. But come on, Keats, you've known me forever. Have you ever seen me like this?"
"No. But maybe you're just sick of groupies and craving a girlfriend. It doesn't mean she's the one. You're barely eighteen."
He shakes his head and squints his eyes at me. "No, don't say that. You of all people. Maybe Vincent changed your life, but don't you dare let him change who you are. You should be clapping and jumping with excitement. You should have a huge smile on your face and that dreamy look in your eyes." He pulls me up off the daybed and twirls us around in a circle. "Be happy for me. Be excited. Be your usual hopeless romantic self. Write me a script where I'm the prince and not the frog. Make a wish on the moon. Or a shooting star. Or at 11:11. Throw a penny in the fountain. Tell me you saw the green flash."
Tears flow from my eyes as I remember my old self. The girl who saw possibilities instead of roadblocks. The girl who believed in fairy tales and wishes.
We stop spinning and both drop dizzily back onto the daybed.
"I've been trying not to, Damian," I say, wiping my tears. "But I can't pretend. This is my reality. Vincent was there when I went to see B surf. When I saw my mom in New York. When I went to Vancouver. My drama teacher almost invited him to my school so I could audition for his movie. You don't understand. I can never let my guard down. I have to monitor every word I say. Think about every move I make. I can't live in the moment anymore."
"Maybe you can't at school, but you can here."
I shake my head. "I wish I could, but when Peyton told me some guy was walking up the beach, my first thought was that it was him."
Damian nods. "Okay. I get it. But I'm here now. So I want you to let go and at least enjoy your next 79 hours. Stop holding Aiden at arm's length and let him in."
"What about B?"
Damian frowns and furrows his eyebrows. "Fine. You want reality? Here's reality. B cares about you. But he chose his dream over you."
"That sounds so harsh."
"It's supposed to be harsh. It's the truth."
"But he said . . ."
"What he said doesn't matter right now because you can't be with him. So, move on. Besides, it's Thanksgiving. You should be thinking about what you're thankful for."
"I'm thankful for you, Damian." I get tears in my eyes again. "I'm sorry. I swear, all I do anymore is cry. But I really am glad you're here. And I'm glad you met Peyton. So, if after this weekend you still want to see her, you can have my loft."
"Yeah, what's that all about? You bought a loft and didn't tell me?"
"I didn't tell anyone from my old life; not even my mom. I needed somewhere safe to go." I smile. "It's a really awesome place. You'll love it."
"So, is that where you're gonna fight Vincent from?"
"Oh, no. I can't go back. I took Aiden there and he . . . well, he infused it with love potion."
"Love potion?"
"He has special powers."
Damian doesn't look convinced. "Like what?"
"When he's around, my head feels like it's filled with cotton candy and I can't think. His smile is as bright as the sun. He knows what I'm thinking even before I can think it. I'm almost positive his tongue is infused with love potion. You should be careful because I think his sister might have . . ."
"Her tongue is definitely infused with love potion," he says dreamily.
"Damian, how do you know that?"
"We hung out last night."
"Did you sleep with her?"
"No, I was a gentleman and dropped her off at her door, where I kissed the hell out of her. And then I couldn't sleep. Which is why I'm up so fucking early. I wish she'd just wake up already. Shouldn't she be dying to see me?"
"Text her."
"And say what? Wake the fuck up so I can see that gorgeous smile again?"
"That'd work for me."
He smiles and pulls out his phone. "I'm going to text her and you're going to do two things. The first one is to stop blaming yourself."
"And the second?"
"March your ass to Aiden's room and start living in the present."
I nod, agreeing with him. "You're right. I shouldn't waste what little time I have left with him."
"Exactly. So go wake him up and let's have some fun."
"I'm gonna run up to the house and get him breakfast; then I'll see if he wants to surf with us. I don't know if he even knows how."
When I get in the house, I find Peyton in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice and smiling at her phone.
"Have you seen Aiden?" she asks with a smirk. "I
don't think his bed was slept in last night."
"It wasn't. He stayed with me."
"Ooh la la."
"It's not like that. We're not having sex."
"I bet you do before this trip is over." She waggles her eyebrows up and down and grins.
"No, we won't."
"Is that what the dirt means? Taking it slow?"
"That's part of it, yeah."
She sighs as she picks up a muffin and examines it.
"It's coconut-banana with an orange glaze."
"Yum," she says, putting it on her plate. "I've never really taken it slow before. Damian seems like he's a gentleman."
"I take it he didn't jump your bones last night?"
"It's not just that but, like, he held the door open for me when we went outside. He has great posture. And last night, there was this big moth and he kinda protected me from it. He just has this presence--like, he makes me feel safe." She smiles. "He even walked me to my door last night. We kissed," she says slowly touching her lips. "It was . . ."
Damian sneaks up behind her, kisses her cheek, and finishes her sentence. "The best kiss of her life."
She smiles and playfully slaps his arm. "I wasn't going to say that."
Damian grabs her, tickles her sides, and pulls her into a chair with him. She squirms around, laughing and screaming, but then Damian stops her screaming with his lips.
They kiss.
And kiss.
And keep kissing.
"Uh, I'm gonna go take Aiden some breakfast," I say, even though I'm ignored.
Die by the wave.
6:40am
I set Aiden's food on the nightstand and then gently perch on the edge of the bed.
He's still lying on his stomach and I can't help but admire his muscular back, the adorable way his buff arm is curled under his head, and the sexy scruff trailing across his cheek.
I reach out and run my hand through his soft hair.
He opens his eyes slowly and sits up. "Mhmm. I was just having the best dream."
"I'm sorry I woke you, then."
He quickly pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head. "Don't be. This is even better than the dream."
"I was going to let you sleep in, but Damian wants to surf. Have you ever surfed before?"
"No, I never have."
"Well, then either I can teach you, you can watch, or you can eat and go back to sleep. I brought you a smoothie and a couple homemade granola bars. When we're done surfing, Inga is making Damian's favorite breakfast."
"What's the favorite breakfast?" he asks, while taking a drink of his raspberry-coconut smoothie.
"Homemade cinnamon waffles drizzled with her amazing pecan caramel sauce and spicy fried potatoes. The combination of the spicy and sweet is to die for."
"That sounds really good."
I snuggle closer to him and close my eyes. "Aiden, I'm sorry about yesterday. My emotions were kinda all over the place."
"It's okay. Mine were too." He rubs his palm down my arm. "I was afraid you'd kick me off the plane, then I was so happy you didn't, then I was pissed when I thought Damian was your ex. Then, after you put your board away, you seemed really distant. But what you said about being afraid you'd never lay on my shoulder again made it all worth it. I went to sleep feeling quite content."
I laugh. "Sounds to me like your feelings were feeling complicated."
"Exactly," he says with a laugh as he rolls on top of me and kisses me with lips that taste of raspberry.
After a thorough kiss, he leans his elbow above my head. "We were supposed to talk on the plane."
"Do you still want to?"
"That all depends," he says, his fingers making a lazy trail down the side of my neck. "In forty years are you going to dredge it back up?"
"If I do, I won't be mad about it anymore." I picture myself watching Aiden forty years from now, dressed in jeans and dusty cowboy boots, his dark blond hair starting to gray at the temples, those bright green eyes still speaking to my soul as he wanders onto our front porch, our grandchildren in tow, their hands and mouths full of dark red grapes they just picked from the vineyard.
"Promise?" he says, those green eyes asking way more about what the promise implies.
I can think of a million reasons why I won't even know Aiden forty years from now, but I can't make myself say anything but, "I promise."
"So let's focus on the positive."
"Right," I agree, willing myself to let go and live in the now. At least for the next seventy-some hours. "It's Thanksgiving day. We're together in paradise, and we have a busy day."
"A busy day? I thought we were supposed to be relaxing."
"We will be, but there's a lot to do here. Surf. Eat. Lie in the sun. Eat more."
"You forgot something important," he says as he curls his hand into my robe and draws me in closer. "This is soft."
"What'd I forget?"
"Kissing."
Then he kisses me until I can't think straight.
Eventually, I force myself to say, "We're supposed to be out surfing. You need to go get your suit on."
He reluctantly nods, but then gives me another electrifying kiss.
The kind of kiss that infuses me with so much more than love potion.
It infuses me with hope.
Aiden follows me to the storage shed so I can outfit him with a board.
"I'm going to start you out on this board. It's a little bigger and more forgiving when you're learning."
He grabs the board and says, "Great. Let's get out in the water."
"Not so fast." I look at the board, knowing it hasn't been used in a while. "Run your hand over the surface here where you're going to be laying. Do you feel anything?"
He wipes his hand across the board. "Nope. Is that good?"
"Not really. It's way too slick. We need to wax it first." I grab a square piece of wax, break it in half, hand it to him, and then lay our boards across a pair of sawhorses. I rub both boards down with a soft cloth to clean them and then say, "Okay, so first, you're going to just rub it back and forth like this. Just a little. Not using much pressure. I like just a thin coat."
He mimics what I do. "Got it. Is this how everyone does it?"
"No, it's just how I like mine. You use different types of wax depending on the temperature of the water, but everyone has their own way to do it. Some use special tools to put the wax on, some just use the wax like we are. Some layer it differently. But the goal is the same. The wax gives you grip."
"When I was learning how to skateboard, my dad stapled sandpaper over the top of mine."
"Exactly, that's the same idea. Only with wax, you can still see the cool design of your board."
"Yours is really cool."
"Thanks. It's custom. Fit to my weight, height, and abilities."
"And the design?"
I lower my head and press on my wax with a little more intensity. "Okay, so now you're going to do this. Make Xs or crosshatching across your board. From rail to rail. Just in this area here where you will lay and stand. And then a little more right up here on the rail where you'll place your hands while getting up."
I see Aiden's shadow fall across my board then his finger is under my chin, pushing it up so I have to look at him. "And the design?" he asks again.
"The Keats guy had it custom-made for my sixteenth birthday."
"Is that why you were upset last night? It reminds you of him?"
I sigh. "No, that wasn't it, exactly."
He doesn't give up. "What upset you, then? Exactly?"
I run my hand across the sticker. "This sticker is new. It matches our tattoos. The chaos."
"Life is divine chaos," he reads and nods his head in agreement. "That's true. You never know what's going to happen next. Like, with my mom's cancer. Life was crazy, chaotic, and scary. But out of all that came something divine. She got her life back and is happier than she's ever been."
"She must be a really strong per
son. I don't know if I could be that strong."
"She considered fighting cancer like fighting a war with a worthy opponent, but one that was not invincible. You're stronger than you know, Boots, and if you ever have to fight something, I'm confident you'll be able to handle it."
I look down and slide the wax across my board again. I'm probably putting way too much on, but I don't care because I'm too busy praying that he's right.
"Okay, then!" I say with fake excitement. "Let's get you out in the sand!"
"Don't you mean water?"
"Nope, you gotta practice getting up on the board first. Lots easier to figure that out on the sand than in the water like I did." I set my board down in the sand and he follows suit. "So, lie down on the board like this; then, when you're ready, pop up like this into a standing position." I sit down on my board and give him a smirk. "Now, drop and give me twenty."
Aiden salutes me, then drops back down onto the board. I watch as he quickly pops up to a standing position. As he counts down from twenty to one, I'm wishing I had told him to do a hundred. When he lies down on the board, he places his arms in front of him, like he's going to do a push up. This causes his shoulder muscles to ripple, his biceps to flex, and makes me wish I could slide under him every time he drops back down onto the board. He moves fluidly and effortlessly, his coordinated body doing exactly what he expects of it.
By the time he's counted down to one, he's starting to sweat. Little beads of perspiration are glistening across his chest. A thin line of water is running between his tight pecs and through a set of luscious abs. I want to grab his hips in my hands and run my tongue along the deep vee that continues down, just below his low-riding shorts.
I remember the first time I saw him. Yeah, my original observation was dead on. He is so the God of all Hotties.
"How'd I do? Am I ready for the water?"
"I'm definitely ready," I say, still thinking about my body under his . . . Oh, gosh. "I, uh, meant that I'm hot." For you. "And ready to get out in the, uh . . ." What's that big body of water called again? Oh! "The, uh, ocean. You know, get my surf on."
Oh my gosh. I am so lame. Excuse me while I go bury myself in the sand.
He grabs his board and follows me and my bright red face out into the water. Peyton and Damian are already out there, although it appears they're doing nothing but sitting on their boards, splashing each other, and playing kissyface.
"It's about time," Damian says. "Ready to put on a show?"