The next morning, Hadley sat on the couch watching cartoons, six fingers held over her head.
I wasn’t in the mood for our usual spat. “What’s with the score?”
“This”—she extended her fingers toward me—“is for the shiner. It’s a nice piece of work.”
The black eye hurt like hell, though most of the swelling had gone down overnight.
“Is higher better or worse?” Just to be clear. Not that I was amused.
“Better for me,” she said. “Worse for you.”
“Wonderful.”
“Get a move on, sunshine,” Corey taunted from the kitchen. He sat hunched over the breakfast bar with Trey.
“What are they doing here?”
“We’re going to the beach,” she said.
Hadley slid her sketchbook off her lap. She wore a pair of cutoff jeans and a baggy cropped white T-shirt. Underneath, I saw the outline of her blue bikini top. Goddamn.
“And if you want breakfast, you better hurry. The guys have been in there for a while.”
Perfect. I didn’t finish one drink last night, my band was short a member, and now I’d have to fight for my meal. Fucking brilliant. Didn’t I at least get dibs in my own home?
“You’re invited,” Hadley called after me as I headed for the kitchen.
I had assumed as much, but her comment said that perhaps that assumption was premature.
Sure enough, I’d barely been saved scraps from breakfast.
“Thanks for cleaning me out, assholes.” I grabbed the last piece of toast off Corey’s plate and the bowl of fruit salad that sat in front of Trey.
At least they knew better than to sit in my spot. Certain customs had to be observed for the sake of my sanity. I’d sat on the same damn stool since I was eight.
“She made us wait for an hour.” Corey showed not one bit of remorse. “It was either start without you or wake you up.”
Trey slathered his toast with strawberry jam. My jam. “Just make something else.”
I grumbled a “fuck you” and polished off the two strawberries and three pieces of cantaloupe I’d been left to consume.
Granted, Hadley and I were weird about food, but for good reason. In the foster home where we’d met, there were three other kids ranging in age from nine to thirteen. We had to throw elbows at the table for our rations, and even those were small. Some days we wouldn’t have breakfast at all. Now that Hadley and I didn’t have to worry about money or someone else stealing our food out from under us, I bought too much and she cooked too much. Anyway, I sucked at cooking. The best I could do was a bowl of cereal. She’d conditioned me. It wasn’t my fault my stomach had certain expectations.
“Stop sulking.” Hadley’s voice whispered into my ear from behind me. “Like I’d let you starve.” She came around the counter and opened the oven, pulling out a plate covered in tinfoil.
“What’s this for?”
“Eating,” Punky answered with a condescending eye roll. Snarky thing. She pulled the tinfoil off to reveal an omelet with bacon and a biscuit. “Hurry up. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
* * *
We arrived at high tide just as the clouds on the horizon began to turn an angry shade of gray. A stiff breeze blew in from offshore. Foam licked at the tidal line. A storm was moving in, electrifying the atmosphere—my favorite kind of weather.
Waxing my board, I watched the white blip of a sailboat on the water make its way south. A sharp whistle caught my attention as a group of guys made their way toward us.
“Andre, hey!”
Hadley jogged past me, shoving my shoulder like I was rude for taking up space, and right into the waiting arms of the shirtless guy who offered her a huge smile. He picked her up. Damn near squeezed the life out of her.
I hated him on the spot. Hated that he could touch her. That he made her smile more brightly than I’d seen in a long time. Most of all, I hated that he’d weaseled his way into her life without my notice. Who the fuck was this dickhead?
“Glad you made it,” Hadley said.
And that just drove the knife deeper.
I couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked happy to see me. Well, I could, but I preferred not to think about it.
“Of course.” The guy was about my height, maybe six-three, and built like an athlete.
“Josh, you remember Andre.” Hadley stood between us, looking at me to say something.
“I do?”
“It’s been a long time. Good to see you.” He stepped forward and held out his hand.
Well, fuck. Now I was the asshole if I didn’t play nice, and Hadley’s sharp expression made it clear she’d make my life hell if I didn’t accept. Steeling myself to the taste of my pride going down my throat, I took his hand and shook it. He squeezed hard, and I squeezed harder.
“Okay, girls. You’re both pretty,” Corey taunted. “Go find a tree if you’re going to start a pissing contest.”
I dropped his hand. Hadley went through the introductions, but I tuned it all out as I stepped into my wet suit and pulled the tight neoprene up the length of my body. I should have stayed in bed.
Grabbing my board, I headed for the water. My toes barely touched wet sand. Hadley wouldn’t let me off that easily.
“Hey,” she called, running to catch up with me. “What’s your problem?”
“You could have mentioned we’d have company. For that matter, what’s with you picking up a whole pack at a bar?”
“Really? Fuck you, Josh. You drag random skanks home, but I can’t hang out with my friends?”
“Are they skanks because they’re fucking me, or is that just a blanket insult?”
“Take your pick.”
“Then who the fuck is he?”
“That’s Andre Evans, jackass.”
“And?” Was I supposed to be impressed?
“His dad used to have those big Fourth of July parties every year. I was friends with him in middle school. He saw me at the Nest and we started talking.”
I vaguely remembered the name, but the Andre Evans I had known was a short, pudgy kid with an overbite. Years ago, he’d gone to live with his mother in Georgia or Alabama, something like that.
“You coming, Josh?” Corey and Trey jogged past us, tossing down their boards to paddle out.
“Sorry. The name doesn’t click.” I tucked my board under my shoulder and walked away, leaving her there.
“You’re such as ass!”
Couldn’t argue with that.
* * *
“I know a guy.” Corey straddled his board beside me, drifting beyond the breakers as the swells rolled beneath us. “I could bring him by next week to jam. You know, feel him out as a replacement for Scott.”
“Sure.” My attention was fixed on the shore.
Hadley had her shirt off, skin glowing against the fabric of her dark jean shorts and sapphire bikini top. It had been a while since we’d been to the beach or had any other occasion that made it acceptable for her to wear so little clothing. I hadn’t seen so much of her in a long time.
“He’s played with a few local bands, mostly alternative and punk, and he’s got decent chops.”
“Great.”
Hadley played football with Andre and his friends. Of course they kept throwing the ball to her, an excuse to grab at her. Motherfuckers.
“But he’s only got one arm, so he strums with his toes.”
“That’s cool.”
My fists clenched the sides of the board as Andre wrapped his arms around Hadley from behind and hauled her off her feet. I could hear her laughter from the shore. It had been years since she’d let me hug her.
“Fucking hell, Josh. Take the creeper meter down a notch.” Corey splashed a bear claw full of water at me.
Fucking child.
“Damn it, Corey.” I wiped the salt out of my eyes, snarling at his stupid grin. “Grow up.”
“Says the guy who left his balls in Hadley’s purse.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Really? You’ve been seething over Andre for the last hour,” Trey said. Cocky bastard. “Surfing requires you to chase a wave.”
“So it doesn’t bother you? If they were manhandling your girl, it wouldn’t piss you off?”
“Ah, he said it!” Corey smacked another handful of water at me.
“Goddammit,” I growled. “Quit doing that. Said what?”
“You called Hadley your girl,” he said, curling his fingers into air quotes. “Not ‘the’ girl. ‘Your’ girl.”
“So what? I’m not arguing semantics. I’ve known her since we were practically in diapers. She lives in my house.”
“Give him a break,” Trey said. “He means that Hadley is like family. You know, a sister.”
“Punky is sure as fuck not my sister.”
“Then go piss a circle around her if you want to claim your territory. Or, I don’t know, ask her out like a normal person. Shit or get off the pot.”
“First of all, fuck you. And if you keep it up, I’m tossing your bass off my roof.”
I wasn’t blind, and I wasn’t dead. Hadley was gorgeous, funny when she wanted to be, a total pain in my ass, snarky, smart, talented. Yes, I knew she was a keeper. But I’d lost her already. There was no retracing my steps down that road.
“Josh, for some stupid reason, we actually give a fuck about you,” Trey said. He had a way of making a kind sentiment sound like an insult. “If you don’t hurry up and figure out a way to fix this thing with you and Hadley, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life. No one gets over a girl like that.”
“It’s been four years. She hasn’t run off yet.” Corey’s fatal flaw was his total faith in people. “Don’t you think that means something?”
“I’m not listening to this.” Chin to the board, I paddled after a wave and didn’t stop until lightning chased us out of the water.
* * *
Later that night as Hadley went through her ritual to lock up the house, she barely said a word to me. I took her silent treatment as punishment, an art she had perfected over the years. It was all the more tormenting because there was no shortage of questions I wanted answered about Andre and her intentions with him, but both of us knew I wasn’t about to ask them aloud.
In the living room, Hadley opened the sliding glass door to the back patio and shut it tight. She flicked the lock closed, open, closed; four times in all. I turned toward the front door, but she hesitated. Hadley stood still, her finger stuck to the lock.
Open, closed.
Open, closed.
Her fingers twitched. Hadley held her breath. I wanted to do...something. Say something that might, I don’t know, help. But I’d learned that lesson. Interfering only led to arguments and the nearest object within her reach flying at my head.
Her hands balled in fists, she huffed a breath through her nose. The rest of the routine wrapped up quickly after that as I went around turning off lights while she set the alarm and locked dead bolts, but I noted her frustration when Hadley slammed her bedroom door shut without letting me say good night.
I wasn’t sure if it was my shit attitude that had affected her. Maybe I was an asshole for assuming I had anything to do with it. Fact was, I never had a fucking clue what was going on in her head, but I’d give anything to still have the right to ask.