After our talk on the beach, Phoebe and I enjoy every day we have together. I’m exhausted from the lack of sleep so I know she must be a walking zombie. When Phoebe isn’t working, our mornings are long and slow in bed while our afternoons and evenings are spent with Duncan and Kelsey on the beach or in a bar. Thankfully, Jackass, or Jackson as I’ve promised to call him, doesn’t show up uninvited. Phoebe says he’s in San Francisco for a few days and is working to open another store there. That’s great for the company but even better for me because it means he’s not here.
Phoebe and I find a Chinese restaurant that delivers. The food is good and we make the most of their quick service. Again, in bed.
I’m spending more time on a board, and this morning, I drag my ass out of bed to hit Pleasure Point with Duncan. This is a prime location for surfing, and while I’m still a bit of a novice, I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. Surfing there is exactly that. Although, I probably should have gotten more than a few hours of sleep if I want to put my best foot forward today.
I’d like to blame Phoebe for the lack of sleep but last night it was Wine Phoebe who greeted me in bed. Wine Phoebe is naughty and likes to play a little more, pushing her inhibitions. I enjoy when Phoebe sends me pictures of wine bottles and a selfie of her drinking from them. Sex with her is always fantastic, and I never miss out, but a little extra kink in bed is never a bad thing.
“Dude, are you thinking about my sister?”
“What’re you talking about? I’m barely awake.”
“Uh huh, well you get that weird look on your face. It’s either you’re constipated or thinking of my sister. Really, the fact that both are the same look should tell you a lot.”
“Fuck off, man. Don’t talk about your sister like that.”
Duncan doesn’t bother responding to me. He walks toward the waves before I manage another word. Dating your best friend’s sister is more work than people think. There’s a fine line between letting my buddy razz me about his sister and wanting to kick his ass for talking shit about my girlfriend.
I don’t head out right away. I sit in the sand and think of these last few weeks with Phoebe. I leave in two days, and while I’m confident of my choices to move to New York and the company I’ll be working for, leaving Phoebe is eating at me. Mostly that Jackson Morgan is going to be here with her. Sure, she’ll be living alone for now and is planning on getting a roommate in the next few months, but until then, she’ll probably rely on Jackass for friendship. That thought makes me want to rearrange his face.
With my fist.
The smug look he always gives me when he hugs Phoebe hello or goodbye makes me move a long talk with Jackson about boundaries and friendship to the top of my to-do list. My conversation with him will probably piss Phoebe off, but if the shoe were on the other foot, she’d be doing the same thing. She already whines that the women in New York will be falling at my feet. Not likely. And, if they do, I’ll help them up and send them on their way because I’m spoken for.
I stand, pull the zipper of my wet suit up, and grab my board. This morning, my focus is one last day on the water. The sets are perfect, each wave breaking just as it should, the sound deafening. My heart races as I take off running; adrenaline shoots through my veins as I paddle out.
I am right. The sets are perfect, my last morning surfing in the Pacific Ocean damn near perfect. Well, except Duncan bitching about the shitty waves. Clearly, we have different views of perfection. I appease Duncan with the promise of street tacos and a beer. I text Phoebe and see if she can break away from work early. Her response is instantaneous.
Phoebe: I’m already done! Where are you guys? I’ll meet you!
Me: I promised your brother tacos and beers.
Phoebe: Perfect. See you in twenty. I’m waiting for my Uber.
I pocket my phone and order a beer while I wait for Phoebe. Duncan texts with Kelsey, and by the sounds coming from him, it’s of a sexual nature. As usual. As promised, Phoebe walks in twenty minutes later with Kelsey in tow. Kelsey jumps on Duncan’s lap, squealing with excitement as Phoebe nestles into my side and kisses me like she hasn’t seen me in days.
“What was that for?” I ask between kisses along her neck.
“I missed you. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll see you in two months. We promised. No longer than two months.”
If I can get Phoebe to commit to no more than two months between seeing each other, eventually she’ll return the sentiment of love and, if I’m lucky, pack her bags and join me in New York. I never said I played fair or was a nice guy. All’s fair in love and war and all that.
“I know.” She sighs and pouts her lips. Her pink and suckable lips. Fuck, this girl makes me hard just standing next to me.
“Let’s get you some food and a drink. I have a feeling this is going to be a marathon night.”
“Hell yeah, it is!” Duncan shouts, holding his beer in the air. I raise mine, and we clink our glasses. Phoebe and Kelsey giggle and order a round of shots for everyone and a margarita each. Yep, marathon night.
Tacos, shots of ice cold Patron, and many beers later, we’re all stumbling out of the bar, waiting for our Uber. Phoebe is wrapped in my arms as the ocean breeze picks up and she shivers. I place a kiss on the top of her head and look over at Duncan and Kelsey who, as usual, have no worries about public displays of affection.
“Babe, I think I’m drunk.” I laugh because drunk is one way to put it.
“I think we all are, Phoebs. Oh, here’s our ride.” I look at the app on my phone and back to the sedan that pulls up. I confirm the guy behind the wheel matches the photo on the app, Trigger. Yeah, Trigger. Fuck if I know what his parents were thinking, but I’m not going to add to the years of torment I’m sure this guy has endured.
Duncan and Kelsey slide in the backseat and I offer the front to Phoebe, but she insists I take it. I’m grateful because folding myself in and out of a backseat is not my favorite thing to do when I’m sober, let alone shit-faced.
Trigger drops us off, and I tell Duncan to stop fake shooting at the poor bastard; I manage to get everyone in the house unscathed. I look at the clock on the microwave and confirm it’s not even eight o’clock. Upside to day drinking is we are home early. Downside, we’ll all be up at the ass-crack of dawn, starving. I toss waters to everyone and hand out ibuprofen like it’s candy then take Phoebe’s hand and guide her down the hall toward bed.
Silently, we take turns in the bathroom before undressing and climbing in bed. I tap the app on my phone for music to drown out the headboard banging the wall down the hall. Phoebe giggles and snuggles into me.
“They are kind of ridiculous.”
“Nah, babe. They’re just in love. And hornier than any other two people I’ve ever met. Seriously, what happened to your brother as a kid? It’s like he was raised by fucking bunnies or something else that humps a lot.”
“Eww, can we not talk about my brother humping? It’s bad enough I have to sleep with music on to drown out the noise. At least we’re quiet fuckers.”
“Phoebe, you are not quiet.”
Phoebe burrows her head in my shoulder as her leg crosses over mine and her hand slowly traces circles on my chest. “Am so.” A yawn replaces any indignation she’s attempting.
It isn’t long before my eyes are heavy, and we’re both asleep.