Twenty-Six
Lola
Justice and I spent the next two weeks driving the van up the coast. During the day we would soak up the warmth of the sun as Justice gripped me tightly in advanced tandem moves. At night, we would savor decadent food of the famous wine country bistros—fancy food even, like risotto that I never had a chance to eat at home.
Our training took on a new dimension. Justice was a man possessed, a fierce determination filling his blue eyes as he forced me to run trails, work out like a mad woman with his free weights and elastic bands.
He had an unbreakable toughness that was contagious. “In the water before the sun’s up, Lola!” We did push-ups together until I thought my arms would fall off. “Drop and give me fifty!” Justice performed one-handed push-ups and push-ups with a clap in between.
Surfing was my love, a sport that I’d learned from my papai as a kid and tandem surfing was the funnest of all—a kick in the pants.
But Justice treated our training like we were about to enter the ring with Mohammed Ali. “Count me down while I get in the next hundred push-ups. One more hour on the trail. Thirty more sit-ups, Lola.”
Justice would hold my legs for more sit-ups; his eyes searing right through my skimpy workout briefs. I’d find myself wondering what really went through his head.
Despite his repeated proclamations of love I wondered if he were truly with me only for the sake of the contest and some wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am rough-and-tumble sex? I pursed my lips as I strained, my abdominal muscles on fire.
Justice had been my best friend. We’d fallen right back into that comfortable relationship we’d always shared. Justice made me feel like laughing and playing. He also made me feel confident. Like I could find the success with my bathing suit business I’d always dreamed about.
And the sex. Santa Maria, the sex!
But what we had wasn’t real. A fake marriage fabricated for the contest.
What about the future? If we won the contest, he’d stay and take care of the shop. If we didn’t, would he just head for the hills again? Disappear from my world? I told myself I didn’t need anyone. I would be fine without him.
But when I met his seductive gaze, I fell into the dangerous abyss of his possessive domain—a place where women wore turquoise bathing suits and men ripped their skimpy bottoms off, bent them over the bed, and roared their dominance over their females until their asses bloomed pink.
Oh, I had a tough veneer alright. Wonder Woman move over, ha ha. But underneath, I was still that little girl Justice had fallen in love with. A tomboy begging for her playmate’s love.
Here was the simple truth and it scared the hell out of me.
I was falling for Justice again and I’d be beyond devastated if we lost the contest and he left me again. I couldn’t face that. I needed to protect my heart.
* * *
Two days before the competition we found ourselves in a crowded lineup at a surf spot called Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz. The sun rose over the ocean early that morning, the mist lifting off the water.
It didn’t take long to realize that Justice and I had an eager audience of local surfers. “Whoa! Check out that Barbie doll,” I heard one athlete say as we passed him. Justice gripped my legs as he lifted me into a perfect arabesque. “Man, what a show!” another onlooker said.
My heart filled with excitement and pride as the usually competitive crowd of this locals-only spot cheered us on. “Way to go you two!”
At the end of one wave Justice eased me out of a particularly tricky lift and kissed me on the cheek. “Looks like we’ve got fans.”
“Too bad they’re not judges.”
“We’re rockin’ this.” His grin was huge. “Let’s go blow their minds.”
We paddled back out to the lineup. The stares of admiration and encouraging banter filled me with positive thoughts. We’re a team. We’ve got the win. We’re like one person. Knight’s Ferry here we come!
We practiced for a few hours, and the crowd seemed lulled into a trance by our show. Their morale-boosting support filled the early morning air with an electricity that was hard to resist.
Justice hugged me tightly toward the end of our practice session and kissed my neck. “Want to try the cobra?”
My mood was giddy. Nothing would stand in our way. “Let’s do it!” The cobra was one of the highest scoring lifts. Justice would hoist me over his head, and I’d ease myself into a full split holding one arm over my head while he gripped my legs.
He peeked over his shoulder at the oncoming set. One of the local surfers lay prone on his board ready to paddle for the wave, but then he pulled back and motioned to us. “It’s all yours!”
The chilly water rushed underneath us, and we paddled like crazy. The wave picked us up. We jumped to our feet, and everything felt balanced and in harmony like we were part of each other, part of the ocean, part of the rising sun.
“Ready?” Justice said. He gripped me firmly and brought me to his shoulders and then hoisted me overhead. I eased myself into position as Justice’s powerful hands held my legs in place so I could spread them in a full front split. My legs felt amazingly flexible, and I pointed my toes, lifted one arm into the air and arched my back gracefully. I felt poised and elegant. I was flying! My body soared in perfect stability over Justice; his hands expertly positioned on my legs. I was an adornment to the surf gods, a stylish ballerina.
The crowd of surfers went crazy.
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Gnarly!”
“Showtime!”
I tipped my head back and turned my face to the sky taking deep savoring breaths. The moment came together in one delicious orgasm of surfing exhilaration.
The wave ended, and Justice gently eased me out of the move to the whoops and hollers of the crowd. We splashed into the water, and Justice threw his arms around me. “We are going to knock the competition out of the water!”
We kissed deeply. When we broke the kiss Justice looked me in the eye. “This is it, Lola. You and me. We get to Knight’s Ferry and we focus. No distractions. Failure is not an option.” He caressed my cheek and let out a happy sigh. The ocean swirled underneath us, and I inhaled the briny scent.
We were a team. Optimism surged through me. “We’re going to win.”
“Damn right we are.”
I’d never felt more confident about anything in my life. That trophy was as good as ours.