BASH IS STANDING WITH A group of people, dressed in a tux like every other man here, but his is fitted to his body perfectly. His tie hangs loosely around his neck with the knot sitting further down his chest, like he couldn’t be bothered to tie it securely.
His tie is a deep violet color, the same shade as my dress. Oh, great. We’re matching.
I focus on his tie. It’s easier than focusing on his face. His face is compressed with so much anger toward me; I couldn’t breathe when I first saw him.
Why is he so angry with me? I’m not the one who left him hanging the past couple of days.
Unless—I’m known for putting my foot in my mouth. The whole no filter thing really is a struggle sometimes. I’ve offended my share of people, not on purpose, but sensitive people just don’t gel with me.
Xavier and Sienna both try to get my attention but they get ignored as I muster up the courage to look back at Bash.
Xavier snaps his fingers in my face, which I swipe away, and my gaze shifts, getting ensnared by the deep, rich brown eyes of the man I’m currently troubled by.
Putting on my best poker face, keeping the feelings closed off to use at another time, I raise my arm halfway in the air and give a little wave.
Bash doesn’t return it.
I lower my arm, feeling defeated. An extended olive branch that gets stepped on.
If he wants to play games and ignore me like a child, then fine. I turn my back to him and look at my friends. What I thought Bash and I were becoming before now.
“Vodka tonic. Stat,” I say and Sienna snaps into action, walking to the bar and ordering two.
“You okay?” Xavier asks, hand on the crook of my elbow, gesturing to my recent rejection.
“’Course.” I shrug, putting on a smile.
His face pinches and his eyes narrow.
The thing about knowing a person as long as I’ve known the Santos siblings is that they know when you’re lying, and Xavier is two seconds away from calling bullshit.
He doesn’t get the chance. Right when Sienna is returning with the drinks, a hand lands on my waist and a voice is in my ear. “Walk with me.”
I shiver, and it’s not from being cold.
Bash is close, so close that I feel the heat of his body against mine. The subtle prick of his stubble against the shell of my ear. It’s a sensation overload I’m not expecting.
Xavier looks like he’s ready to say something and Sienna looks like she’s in shock—mouth open and all.
Bash doesn’t say anything to them. He’s standing there, his eyes drilling holes into Xavier’s hand. The one that is still on my arm.
I shake Xavier off and take my drink from Sienna. She still hasn’t moved. We probably need to check for a pulse.
I’m about to take a sip from my glass but Bash takes it and places it on the table.
I don’t want to have this talk, but I know Bash won’t give up until we do, so it’s going to be done in private, away from prying eyes and ears.
“Let’s go.” I push against him, trying to get him to move.
He doesn’t.
I push against his chest again and this time he relents back a step before walking toward an exit.
My dad sees me walking out. He looks confused, but when he sees who I’m walking with, the confusion turns into concern as the recognition hits.
Dad might be out of the competition circuit, but he’s not out of the surf game. He’s a sports commentator for a lot of the competitions, both big and small. I know for a fact that he’s been to more than two dozen competitions that Bash has competed in. He knows who he is. He can probably spew his stats faster than Bash can.
I smile, despite the growing feeling of dread, to let him know everything is fine. He doesn’t look convinced and starts to follow until my mom sees what’s going on. She says something to him, shaking her head, and pulls him back.
Go, Mom! For the win!
Bash leads us down the hall and into a more secluded area. I cross my arms over my dress and lean against the wall as Bash stands there. The look of anger hasn’t left his face, but he says, “You look beautiful.”
He doesn’t sound as angry as he looks. He sounds frustrated.
“Don’t,” I cut him off. I’m not here for bullshit. I’m here to know what the hell crawled up his ass and has him ignoring me. “You don’t get to show up here, look pissed at my presence in front of all those people, and then give me a compliment when you get me alone!”
He’s never given me a compliment before and the first one that he gives me is now. When I’m pissed and he’s acting weird. No. Just no.
“Emery.” He takes a step closer but thinks better of it. He goes to the opposite wall in the hallway and mimics my stance. “I’m sorry about all that. I just wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Standing with Xavier, is what he wants to add. I know jealousy when I see it and Bash doesn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of Xavier.
“So me being here is enough to anger you?”
“No.” With a deep, heavy sigh Bash rubs at his chest, right over his heart. Where his tattoo is. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”
“Well, surprise,” I say dryly, giving him spirit fingers that are full of sarcasm.
“Don’t.” He throws my words back at me. Pushing off the wall, he comes closer. “Why are you here, Em?”
My heart warms at the nickname until I make that feeling stop. He’s not buttering me up. Not until I have answers. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I’m looking anywhere but at him. I’m looking for an escape.
Bash grips my chin, tilting my face to look him in the eyes. “Before I went on vacation, I forgot about some of the obligations I committed to. My mother arranged this one without my knowledge, so here I am.”
“I didn’t know you were a momma’s boy.” I try to grin, but stop. His face is still hard, and I’m still mad.
I push off the wall, headed for the door, but he catches my elbow.
“Why are you so angry at me?” His voice is full of irritation.
“Because!” I poke his chest, but his body of muscle doesn’t budge.
“You’re the first person I’ve surfed with in years and it was fucking nice not being alone for once! You couldn’t even send me a text saying you weren’t going to show. God, Bash, what if I thought something happened to you?”
Did it make me a shitty person that I didn’t think something serious was wrong with him?
Am I too selfish?
Answer to both: probably.
“I have a routine, Bash. I let you fuck it up by joining me and then you fuck it up again when you bail without telling me.” You hurt me, you asshole. “I waited for you.”
He curses under his breath, dropping my arm. “I’m sorry, Emery. Things came up and I wasn’t thinking.”
“Oh, too busy to send a quick text? Doubtful.” I don’t accept that answer. It’s a brush off if anything. He forgot.
He forgot me.
The idea hurts more than I’m willing to admit. I don’t like it and Bash doesn’t even try to answer again. That hurts even more, in a way.
He shakes his head. “What’re you doing here, Emery?”
“I was invited.” I lean back against the wall.
He lifts an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to explain.
“My dad always gets invited to these things.”
“And your father would be?” He doesn’t say it in a condescending way, but more in a curious way.
We haven’t talked about our parents. Which has been nice. I’ve liked having him in my life, knowing he’s not there for the connections I have access too.
“Ren Lawson.”
He blinks.
Blinks.
Blinks two more times.
His mouth slightly open.
It’s kind of ironic that the look he’s wearing is the same one Sienna was wearing earlier.
Irony at it’s finest, in my opinion.
“You’re his daughter?”
Biting my lip, I nod.
Growing up with surfers and having the father that I do, they always fanboyed over him. They essentially used my friendship as a way to get closer to my dad.
I really hope Bash is different.
He opens his mouth, then closes it a few times, resembling a fish out of water guzzling down air.
My heart pounds louder, like the bass in a song, and someone is turning the volume louder and louder.
Say something.
Silence.
Say anything.
More silence.
Say something about the weather! Anything is better than this, Cleaton!
When the silence becomes suffocating, I push off the wall with all the intent of walking away, but Bash grabs me, pulling me back. Again. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Clearly you need some alone time with your thoughts, so I’ll let you be and go back with my friends.”
“I don’t think so, Lawson. You’re not running away from me.”
“You don’t get a say, Bash! You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you, damn it! I was just going through some shit, okay?”
Throughout the exchange, the two of us draw closer to each other until our faces are close enough for our noses to touch. It hurts to suck in air. My lungs, my body, feels so tight. We’re so close.
His breath is a soft caress over my lips as my eyes dart to his. His tongue pokes out the corner. I look back to his eyes and see the same fiery need I feel reflecting back at me.
Something in the air shifts between us; all the feelings of anger and hurt are shifting toward something else—something that gets interrupted when Xavier appears in the hallway.
“Em.” Xavier sounds so casual, like I’m not in the arms of Sebastian Cleaton. He doesn’t even blink at the scene.
Sienna rounds the corner next and isn’t as subtle as her brother. “Oh! Sorry! Sorry!” Sienna is grinning wide. “We didn’t mean to interrupt, but we’re taking off and wanted to know if Em wanted to join us.” Her eyes rake over Bash like he’s a pair of shoes for sale. “You’re more than welcome to come, too.”
I roll my eyes at my friend before looking up at Bash. Since I’m still in his hold, I have to tip my head up. He looks down at me.
Our noses are so close.
I’m vaguely aware of Sienna smacking her brother’s arm, saying something about her phone and needing a picture of the moment. I can’t look away from Bash to say anything to her. There is something so enticing about him and the effect he has over me.
I don’t like it. Makes me feel things.
“I’m going, but I won’t kill you if you wanted to come too.” Here I am, with another olive branch extended, showing I’m not as angry as I was. If he comes and grovels some more, perhaps on his knees, we’ll be okay.
“Yeah?”
I offer a soft smile, already knowing I’m over it when I answer, “Yeah.”