Fucking hell.
“Hang on. I can’t hear you.” Loud drunken laughter boomed in the background and my panic eased a little. The noise decreased as though she was walking away. “Are you there?” she whispered.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“They’re making me watch Wolf Creek, Casey. I don’t know why they would do this. Somehow we got talking about horror movies and Evie said it was the most terrifying movie of all time, so naturally I was an idiot and told everyone I’d never seen it. Have you seen it?” she asked and then continued before I could tell her there was no fucking way you’d get me watching that shit. “It’s his laugh,” she hissed. “His horrible, creepy-ass laugh. It’s more terrifying than zombies chewing off all your body parts, or … or … falling out of a shuttle and floating off into space.”
I pressed my lips together, laughter rumbling in my chest while I listened to her drunken chatter. She stopped suddenly and whispered my name.
“Mmm?” I replied.
“You should’ve come. You could’ve been here right now, doing that thing you said you wanted to do. You know, the thing you said I didn’t even have to get naked for. How do you make me want you so much?” Her voice cracked and the sound resonated straight to my heart.
“Ahh hell,” I rasped. I was fully hard just thinking about it. Reaching down, I adjusted my cock in my jeans, giving it a quick squeeze. I knew I’d come easily if I sat on the phone and detailed all the things I wanted to do to her.
“I wanted to see you, Casey. I want to see you.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. “You mean … like a date?”
A feeling of utter shame hit me. Dating both Grace and Morgan would be something no do-over would fix. Trust was something special, and after Dalton, Grace needed trust, not some stupid prick who’d only fuck up her life more.
“No!” Grace blurted out. “Not a date. I mean, like …” She paused. “I don’t know. I just want to see you.”
“Grace,” I muttered hoarsely.
“Just … let’s be friends,” she announced decisively. “You know, buddies, pals, mates. We can draw a line. No talking about kissing, or sexing. Sexting,” she corrected with a slight slur and a hiccup. “Or whatever the hell you call it. What do you do with your buddies, Casey?”
Definitely not the things I want to do with you.
I cleared my throat. “Most times we just catch up for a drink, but we do other stuff, like paintball, or the shooting range, surfing—”
“Surfing! Let’s do that. I can do that. Saturday morning?”
“Ahh, okay,” I agreed slowly, my mind still trying to catch up with the whole idea of being Grace’s buddy. “It’s best to go early though. How about Bondi at six?”
Grace’s answer was a light snore into the phone.
“Grace?”
Nothing.
A smile crept slowly across my face.
“Sweet dreams, Slim,” I whispered softly before hitting the end call button on my phone, wondering if she would even remember the conversation in the morning.
I crouched in the sand, putting on the leg rope from my board, when I heard a hoarse, croaky mumble from behind say, “It’s early.”
A cool, blustery wind ruffled my hair as I stood and turned. “You’re here,” I said to Grace, recognising that familiar breathlessness when I looked at her.
Her hair was loose, hanging down her back in messy waves. It was obvious she’d just rolled out of bed and walked straight out the door because one side stuck out in a big, frizzy tangle. She was wearing a full body wetsuit. It looked brand new, but the board she carried under her arm didn’t. It looked like Henry’s board. I wondered if he knew Grace and I were now buddies.
She looked at me through puffy eyes that were mere slits. “You said Bondi at six, right?”
I grinned, thinking of her sweet little snore through the phone after passing out. “Didn’t think you heard me.”
“Yeah, well. I have this really bad habit of remembering everything when I’m drunk. Particularly stuff that’s best left forgotten.”
Grace jammed her board in the sand so it stood upright. With hands on her hips, she averted her face to assess the horizon but I still caught the flush climbing her neck. I knew then what she was remembering and my grin turned into a full-blown chuckle.
“Well if you change your mind about me doing that thing, you know the thing I said you didn’t even have to get naked for, just say the word, buddy.”
“Shut up, Casey,” she ordered and accompanied her words with a punch to my arm. She looked pretty pleased with herself, but the effort was pathetic.
I laughed at her. “Seriously, Slim. No buddy of mine would ever punch like a pussy. You want me to help you work on that?”
“You’re making a mockery of my good intentions,” she complained. “I’m taking back the whole buddy thing, but if you want to go ahead and teach me how to throw a punch that will take you out, then sign me the fuck up.”
“You want me to sign you up for full-contact sports, Slim?” I took a step closer until I was in her personal space. A gust of wind blew up and her hair fluttered in the breeze. Tendrils of it tickled my skin, covering me in goose bumps. “Because that sounds hot as fuck.”
“Is everything a sexual innuendo with you, Casey?”
“Not usually,” I admitted with a grin. “You seem to bring it out in me.”
Grace rolled her eyes as she crouched down and began fastening her leg rope. A small furrow creased her brow as she concentrated on her task. “Maybe that’s something I can help you work on.”
“Buddies for five minutes and already you’re trying to change me,” I joked, watching as she fussed with the Velcro strap. It looked a little loose, so I crouched down. “Let me.”
I pushed her hands out of the way and she stood up, watching as I took over. A quick examination told me it was worn and the seam had a slight tear. Even if the actual surfboard was in good nick, straps needed regular replacement.
“You need to get a new one of these,” I cautioned, doing up the strap as tight as possible. The last thing we needed was for her board to cut loose on a wave and bean some surfer. “You can surf, right?”
“Of course I can,” she replied, watching as I smoothed the Velcro fastening in place. “Well, it’s been a while,” she admitted. “I haven’t surfed since I was young, but it’s just like riding a bike.”
I glanced up at her, eyes wide with disbelief. “Who the fuck told you that? Humpty Dumpty?”
Grace looked genuinely puzzled. “What’s Humpty Dumpty got to do with surfing?”
“Nothing. That’s my point.”
She snorted as I finished fixing her strap. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran my hand up the inside of her leg, my palm grazing along her inner thigh as I stood.
Grace tipped her head back a little when I reached full height, her lids lowering lazily as she met my eyes. She placed her palm flat on my bare chest, running it slowly up smooth skin until it slid around the nape of my neck. She used it to tug me closer. My breath caught when it brought her lips close to mine.
“Casey?” she breathed.
The part of my brain directly connected to my cock took over the second her palm touched my bare chest. I ran my tongue over my lips, a split second away from crushing my mouth down on hers. “Mmm?”
Her lips curved and her hand shifted, smacking me gently on cheek. “Let’s go, buddy.”
Grace grabbed her board from the sand and started down the beach, laughter trailing behind her. Quickly tugging on the top half of my wetsuit, I picked up my own board and jogged after her, calling out, “You’re a tease, Slim!”
Her eyes were wide with amazement when she spun around, walking backwards into the cold ocean. “I’m a tease? Me? Who was the one running their hand up my leg just before?” She snorted.
The sound was inelegant and utterly adorable. Between that and her bed hair, it was obvious she wasn’t out to impress anyo
ne, least of all me. It only made my heart thump all the more. Compared to all the calculated seductions I’d experienced in the past, the beautiful girl who was busy laughing at me as she ran into the surf was like a breath of fresh air.
Cool, salty water rushed up and over my feet as I followed her into the ocean. I kept a watchful eye on her as we headed out past the breakers, relaxing slightly when it appeared she could hold her own on a board.
Reaching the rolling swell, we both sat up.
“You did good,” I told her, wiping the water from my face.
She nodded and grinned. “I know.”
I lifted my chin at some good waves already starting to roll in. “Ladies first,” I told her.
Grace caught the wave, getting to her feet on the first try, but she came off just a second later. The second time around she did worse, rather than better.
I laughed when she reached my side after wiping out on the third. “Just like riding a bike, huh?”
She flicked water at me, hitting me in the face.
“Hey!”
I paddled a little closer until we were sitting side by side, both facing the bright orange glow of the horizon. “So tell me how this buddy thing is supposed to work.”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” Grace brushed a wet strand of hair off her face. After a minute, she shrugged but there was something behind the casual gesture that looked suspiciously like hurt.
After thinking about it for a moment, I wasn’t sure I could be just a friend, not unless it somehow ended with me buried inside her. I hadn’t even taken her whole buddy request seriously until now. How was it possible to be buddies with the star attraction of your mental spank bank? Just breathing the same air made my cock hard enough to pound nails. Was she supposed to just ignore the huge tent in my pants while we sat around watching chick flicks together, eating chocolate and doing each other’s hair? Then there was the whole matter of her brother and his I think it’s best if you stay away speech.
“What about Henry?” I asked. “He doesn’t want me anywhere near you. Are you doing this just because he doesn’t want you to?”
“No! Of course I’m not.”
“Then why?” I pushed her when I should’ve let it go. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to be alone in this attraction. I wanted to know she was right there with me. I wanted her to admit she wanted more than being just buddies, which was fucked up because even if she did, we couldn’t do anything about it anyway.
“Because you can never have enough friends, right?”
Her words were a deflection. Reaching over, I grabbed hold of her board and dragged her closer towards me. “Grace?”
She grimaced. “It’s too early in the morning for confessions or deep conversation.”
“Humour me.”
“Okay.” Grace leaned over, grabbing the edges of her board when a big wave rocked us. “But on the condition you share something too. Being buddies doesn’t work if it’s all one sided.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “And afterwards we’ll sit here on our boards holding hands and sing Kumbaya.”
Grace laughed and flicked me with water again. “You’re an ass!”
“You’re only just finding that out? Why would you want to be friends with someone you barely know?”
“You’re right.”
I grinned. “Say that again.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “I meant you’re right as in I barely know you. So give me a story. Something about your past that gives me insight into what made you the ass you are today.”
The smile slid from my face. Grace had spoken with amusement dancing in her eyes but there was nothing amusing about my past. I didn’t have any happy or funny stories, or even bittersweet ones. Hell, I didn’t have any sad stories either. Mine were all just either pitiful or a goddamn tragedy. I didn’t want to share any of that with Grace. What was the point? Sharing it wasn’t going to change anything.
“My past?” I forced a grin. “Is this your roundabout way of asking me how many women I’ve slept with? Because you don’t need to worry. I’ve always kept it wrapped.”
“Hey!” Grace exclaimed. Reaching over, she poked me in the ribs. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” I asked, jerking backwards. My board rocked violently in the swell building beneath us. I hadn’t noticed the breeze picking up and the size of the set on the horizon reflected it. Some big waves were coming.
“That bullshit line you just gave me,” she replied, her brows knitted in apparent irritation.
I tensed on my board, surprised she called me out on it when no one else ever did. “It wasn’t a line,” I said teasingly. “Practising safe sex is no joke.”
“Don’t deflect.” Grace grabbed hold of her board as the first of the big incoming waves rocked us forcefully. “We’re supposed to be buddies now. Buddies tell each other everything.”
I arched a brow. “We are? And there are rules now?”
“Stop!” she shouted, her loud voice cutting through the peace of the morning. Nearby surfers glanced our way with either curiosity or annoyance. Or both. “It’s too early for verbal warfare, Casey.” She shook her head at me. “Coming here this morning was a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. Trying to be friends with you is like trying to hug a cactus.” Grace turned on her board and began paddling towards shore.
The further away she got, the bigger the ache in my chest grew.
“Grace?” I called out.
She paused mid paddle and glanced back at me, her stormy, blue eyes full of disappointment. I hated seeing her look at me like that. I’d disappointed enough people in my life to last a lifetime. But it was better that she kept her distance because it would only get worse. Grace might be the woman I wanted, but Morgan was the one I had to focus on right now.
“You’re right,” I told her. “I am an ass. I might want to fuck you, but it doesn’t mean I want to be your friend.”
Grace flinched. Actually flinched. The sight made my stomach churn. Christ, I was selfish prick. Rather than continuing to shore like I expected her to do, she turned on her board and sat up, cocking her head at me.
“You want to know why I wanted to be friends?” She clenched her jaw for a moment, looking out into the distance as though finding the words. “I’ve always been tall,” she began, looking back at me. “Even as a child I hovered a full head over all my classmates at school. They would tease me—calling me beanpole or stretch. I even got Big Bird. None of it was terribly original, but it didn’t have to be. The words were intended to hurt and I admit they did their job. One day, when I was about eight, I saw this dress in a shop window and it took my breath away. It was something you’d imagine Tinkerbell wearing. It had dainty pink butterfly wings that glittered under the light. The skirt was tulle and looked like a big cloud of fairy floss.” A wave rocked her board and she paused to wipe the water from her face. I wanted to grin at the thought of a young Grace in that over the top dress, but instead I remained still, intent on hearing the small piece of her past.
“I looked at that dress,” she continued, “and I knew, I knew, that if I wore that dress, the kids at school wouldn’t see how tall I was, they’d only see someone they wanted to be friends with. But Mum said the dress was more than we could afford. So the very next day I painted a huge rainbow in my bedroom. It covered almost the entire wall and some of the carpet. The colours all ran into each other until it looked mostly brown. It was really, really ugly but I did it because I was convinced that when I woke up in the morning there would be a pot of gold at the end of it. I was going to give the gold to Mum so she could use it to buy my dress. But when I woke up, there was nothing underneath my hideous brown rainbow. I cried for two days. On the third day, Dad caved and bought me the damn dress.” Grace laughed but her eyes were wet with tears. “I was so excited I wore it that Sunday to our school fete where this boy, Alan, stood on the end of it and tore half of the skirt away. Mum mended it, but I
refused to wear it anymore when I realised that no one wanted to be friends with the beanpole, even if she was wearing a pretty dress.”
She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “Looking back, I can see how ridiculous it was. It didn’t matter if I was tall or short, or skinny or overweight, if I wore the damn dress or a brown sack. Changing what I looked like wouldn’t give me friends. They had to want to be your friend—enough that they didn’t care what you looked like, or who you knew, or what you could do for them. They just wanted to be your friend because they liked who you were on the inside.”
I sat quietly on my board staring at Grace, suddenly wanting to punch the whole world for making a little girl feel like she wasn’t good enough. Then I wanted to punch myself because I’d just gone and done the same thing.
“I’m not really sure why I’m telling you this. Maybe because you remind me of those kids at school.” She shrugged and started again for the beach.
“Grace!” I called out. “Grace, I’m sorry!” I knew she heard me but she continued on regardless, paddling hard to ride the next wave to shore. “Shit. Just … fucking shit,” I growled angrily and punched my fist through the water.
She disappeared quickly beyond the roll of the swell. A few more seconds and I saw her again. She was on her feet, riding the wave. I held my breath watching her. For five seconds she managed to keep her feet before she turned inwards and lost her balance. She went flying up in the air before tumbling beneath the power of the crushing wave. The force of her wipeout ripped the leg rope from her ankle and her board crashed down above her.
“Oh fuck,” I breathed, my stomach tightening with dread as I waited for her to surface but she never did.
I paddled swiftly towards where she went down but there was no telling where the tide of the wave could have taken her.
“Grace!”
Nothing.
“Grace?” I yelled, panic making me dizzy. I did a complete one-eighty, casting my gaze across the ocean but she didn’t fucking surface. She went down and never came up.