I caught Boyd paddling quickly towards me.
“Take my board!” I yelled at him. I caught his quick nod before I ripped off my leg rope and dove into the water. There was no telling where she was in all the whitewash, but I couldn’t sit there waiting until I got a glimpse of her. The waves shoved me around carelessly and the salt water burned as I used my eyes and hands to try and locate her. When I ducked above the surface to see if she’d come up, Boyd yelled, “Over there!”
I followed the direction he was pointing and dove again, swimming underwater. Reaching out, I grabbed hold of a limb; I wasn’t sure what limb it was, but I had a fucking hold of her and that was all that mattered. Pushing up off the ocean floor, I shot us both upwards. Breaking the surface, I was relieved to hear Grace drawing in huge gulps of air.
“Grace,” I panted, wrapping myself around her until we were tangled together.
She twined her arms around my neck, her teeth chattering from the shock. I held on tight, not knowing whether I wanted to yell, cry, or puke. Maybe just doing all three at the same goddamn time would be more efficient.
“Fuck,” I muttered, waiting for the emotional disparity to pass.
Boyd called my name. I turned my head, watching him paddle over with my board. “You guys okay?”
I pulled back a little to look at Grace. Ice-cold fear shot through me at the sight of the blood trickling down the side of her face. “Oh God, Grace, baby.” I shifted, trying to get a better look. “You’re bleeding.”
A wave crashed into us and she started sliding from my grasp. “Don’t let go,” I ordered while I turned in the whitewash, loosening an arm from around her to take my board. “Thanks, mate,” I told Boyd. “Goddamn leg rope snapped off.”
“Nasty shit, dude.” He lifted his chin towards the shore. “Go take care of your girl.”
Boyd gave a casual salute before paddling away. I nudged Grace towards the board before the next wave could hit. “Hop on.”
She climbed on, straddling my board without a word. Only once she was sitting safe did I realise my heart was hammering hard enough to beat out of my chest.
“I lost Henry’s board,” she said, holding a hand to the wound on her head with a wince.
“Who gives a shit about the damn board!” I swiped a hand across my face, looking up at her as I treaded water. “Jesus, fuck! Are you okay? That fucking strap. I shouldn’t have let you on the damn board. Henry shouldn’t have let you take the damn board.”
“It’s not a big deal, Casey. I’m barely even bleeding. I got beaned by a surfboard and got a little disoriented, that’s all. I couldn’t work out which way was up and every time I tried, another wave came and shoved me back down.”
“Barely bleeding?” I growled as I climbed on the board behind her. It sunk low beneath the water’s surface under our combined weight. “Look at this!” I pulled her hand away from her head. It was dripping blood, dammit. “That’s barely bleeding to you?”
She yanked her hand from my grip and pressed it back against her head. “You’re being irrational,” I was told as I began the awkward paddle back to shore. “Head wounds always bleed like a bitch.”
“Just keep pressure on it until we’re back on dry land and I can have a proper look.”
“Well, it’s been fun,” she said with sarcasm when we made it back to the beach. “We should definitely do this again.”
“Yeah?” Reaching dry sand, I dumped my board and grabbed her wrist when she kept walking. She jerked backwards. “I thought you said you could surf. Some buddy you’re turning out to be.”
“I know!” Grace snapped her fingers. “We could have a buddy do-over. Oh wait.” She shook her head in mock regret. “You don’t want a friend. You just want a fuck.”
“Grace,” I growled.
She tugged her wrist free. I grabbed at it again and she squirmed from my grip. “Dammit, Grace. You’re bleeding everywhere. Let me have a look. You’re probably going to need stitches.”
Grace started walking off. “Well then, I’ll just call a friend,” she said with a sneer, “to come help me.”
Lunging forward, I grabbed both her shoulders in my hands and held on tight. “Stop it!” I shouted, my chest heaving as I fought to control my anger. “Okay? Just stop.”
Her jaw locked and her nostrils flared as she glared at me, trapped in my hold. Swallowing, I forced calm and met her eyes. “Will you let me look?”
A beat of silence passed before she nodded stiffly.
I let go of her arms and reached for her scalp. I kept my movements gentle, not wanting to startle her into walking off again. The bleeding had slowed and she was right, the wound was minor, but it would need at least two stitches. I told her the verdict. “I’ll take you to hospital. Emergency should be able to fix it up quickly.”
“No.” She pulled away. “I can take myself.”
“I wasn’t offering you a choice, Grace.” I pointed towards the outdoor showers. “Go rinse off and meet me back at my car. I’ll go have a quick look for Henry’s board.”
“Okay,” she agreed quickly. Too quickly.
I paused, narrowing my eyes as I studied her. “Good.”
Grace started off, walking in the complete opposite direction of my car and the outdoor showers. “Why do you have to be so damn difficult?” I yelled after her.
She did it again. She fucking flipped me off as she stalked away. The girl had an attitude bigger than the Grand Canyon and it only made me want her more.
I remember reading once that if you want something you’ve never had, then you’ve got to do something you’ve never done.
Screw Henry and Morgan and everything else. Screw the fallout. I’d worry about it another day because right then my care factor just went right out the window. I wanted Grace. It was that simple and that complicated. I wanted to laugh with her, get drunk with her, be buddies with her. I’d do whatever the fuck she wanted me to just so I could keep feeling the way I did when I was with her.
“You want something? Fine!” I shouted angrily at her retreating back. She stopped and turned around. Her eyes were cold as they stared at me, waiting. “I don’t …” I swallowed, trying to get the words out past the lump in my throat. “I don’t have any good stories.”
“Casey—”
“Just let me try and think of one,” I said over the top of her. “Please? Just …” I held up a hand and she pressed her lips together. “My brother, Kelly, he … Oh God.” I exhaled shakily as she started back towards me. “His eighth birthday party. We never had parties. Dad didn’t like people coming to our house. Mum used to sneak us out for ice cream on our birthday instead, but this one year Kelly got a party. Mum never said why so I have no idea why dad relented. Anyway, the party was a disaster. Mum did invitations for about thirty kids, including our neighbours, thinking only half of them would come, but they all turned up. So the house was full of screaming, hyper kids, our neighbours, and the neighbour’s golden retriever. About halfway into the party a late afternoon thunderstorm hit. One of those wild ones with flash flooding and hail.” I closed my eyes, remembering the sound of us kids yelling and laughing as we scrambled to catch all the icy pebbles while lightning cracked around us. “The power blacked out just when Mum was bringing out the cake, only for a minute, but when it come back on, the neighbour’s dog was eating it. Dad lost his shit and started yelling and the dog got scared and pissed on him. I can’t remember ever laughing so hard until I realised Kelly was crying.”
I jolted, not realising Grace was standing there holding my hands until she squeezed them.
I squeezed back. “Dad … he …” I swallowed again, tasting bile, bitter in my throat. “Kelly slept in my bed that night and when we woke up, Mum had bruising on her throat, a swollen lip, and a split in her left brow. We never asked for another birthday party after that.”
Grace cupped my face in her palms, forcing me to meet her eyes. They were filled with tears. I watched one spill over and fall down
her cheek. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, using my thumb to gently brush the tear away. “I guess that wasn’t such a good story after all.”
“Casey?” she breathed.
I looked into her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Kiss me, okay? Please. I need you to kiss me. Right now.”
We stared at each other silently for a moment. There was no other sound around us apart from the waves breaking on the shore. Resting my hands on her hips, I leaned in close. Grace’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath catching on a ragged moan when my mouth brushed softly against the corner of her lips.
“Is that okay?” I murmured.
“More, please,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, focusing on nothing else but the feel of her bottom lip when I took it between my teeth, nibbling gently until Grace parted her lips. My tongue swept inside her mouth and I groaned loudly, tasting salty ocean and sweet, sweet honey. Reaching up, I grabbed a fistful of her hair as she responded, mashing her lips against mine, deepening the kiss. Blood pumped through my veins until my cock ached from the intensity. Releasing her hair, my hands began moving over her, down her chest, over her hips, frustrated when all I got was wetsuit rather than bare skin.
I dragged my lips from hers, breathing harshly.
Her eyes were wide on mine, hands gripping my shoulders as if it was the only thing holding her up.
Be careful what you wish for, Casey, because once you get it, giving it back is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.
“Grace,” I muttered hoarsely, suddenly feeling so hollow I ached from it because this was only going to end in hurt, but I felt helpless to stop it.
“So then what happened?” John asked.
The late afternoon sun hit my bed, right across my eyes, so I shuffled until I was lying the other way. Mitsy growled when I got too close. Getting up, he stretched, circled three times, and curled back up on the bedspread, all the while giving me a dirty look. I bared my teeth at him and if dogs could roll their eyes, Mitsy was doing it right then.
“Grace?” John prompted.
“He took me to the hospital and I got two stitches in my scalp,” I whispered quickly, mindful that Henry was a lurking ninja who had no qualms about eavesdropping on my phone conversations. He’d already done it twice in the past week. Once when I was talking to Casey, and the other when I finally forced myself to phone Dalton and have it out.
“Holy shit, Grace,” John announced. It had taken two hours to complete the entire recount of events since my arrival in Sydney. “Your whole trip’s been like The Hangover minus the bachelor party.”
“I know,” I replied, planting my feet on the wall above my pillows. I closed my eyes, remembering back a week ago to my surf with Casey and subsequent hospital visit.
I was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, waiting to be seen by the doctor. Casey was on my right, leaning up against it as he stared at the floor.
“How long are you here for?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. Eight weeks maybe, why?”
Casey exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Then you go back to your life in Melbourne?”
“Yeah,” I replied, feeling disheartened knowing what I was going back to. I wanted to stay but it wasn’t possible and the reason for that was something I wasn’t willing to share with anyone. Not even with Casey.
“So what was with that kiss then, Grace? You got pissed off when I said I wanted to fuck you and the next minute you’re kissing me like you wanted me to. So much for buddies, huh?”
Ugh.
He was right. I was confusing the hell out of him. And myself.
I wanted him. There was nothing confusing about that part. But I didn’t want to lead him on either. If we were going to act on this attraction, Casey needed to know it could only be temporary. I wouldn’t drag him into the nightmare my life was about to become.
I cleared my throat, glancing at him sideways. “So I have a proposal for you.”
He lifted his brows. “A proposal?”
“Hear me out,” I began and ran sweaty palms down my bare thighs. I’d arrived at the beach in a wetsuit over my bikini, forgetting to bring something to change into after being in the water. Casey had loaned me a shirt from his car. After putting it on over my bikini, it reached mid-thigh and smelled like him. I was keeping it.
“Grace?” he prompted, making me realise I was staring at the wall.
“Eight weeks together and then I go home,” I blurted out, making my proposal sound in no way appealing. Making it worse was that I was standing there like a drowned rat, my hair tangled, and dried blood all over my face. And that was after wiping out on Henry’s board. Still. It wasn’t like I could’ve added flashy disco lights and a seductive lap dance to go with it. The man was going to have to take me as he found me.
“What?” Casey pushed off of the bed so he could face me properly, his expression incredulous. “That is your proposal? You and I having sex together for the next eight weeks and then you leave?”
I shifted uncomfortably under his penetrative stare. “Well, it sounds a bit sordid when you put it that way.”
“Grace.” His lips twitched. “It is kinda sordid.”
“I didn’t mean for it just to be about sex,” I explained, folding my arms defensively.
He unpeeled my arms and placed them around his waist, bringing us close together. “What did you mean then?”
“Well … we can do other stuff too, like spend time together.”
His lips twitched again and I sighed because it was almost too sexy for my eyes to absorb. “Spend time together naked?”
“There is that,” I replied, because Casey and naked went together like peas and corn or vodka and orange, but they also went together like cocaine and heroin—mixed together you’ve got a highly dangerous addiction and no hope of shaking it loose. It would so be worth it, I told myself. If I said no to a naked Casey, I may as well just go out into the yard, dig a nice big hole, and bury myself in it. “But it’s not just that,” I admitted. “I like being with you. I like that I can be myself with you.”
“Even when I’m being an ass?”
I looked up to regret in his eyes. “Even then. Because at least you’re honest about it.”
His voice turned soft. “So I get you for eight weeks of whatever this is, and then I have to give you back?”
“After eight weeks, you’ll be begging to give me back.”
Casey took my face in his hands. He tipped my head back so I was looking at him properly, and then he brushed a kiss over my lips.
Drawing back slightly, his next words made my heart thump hard in my chest. “And what if I want to keep you?”
I closed my eyes because if I kept looking at him I’d tell him he could. “You can’t. After eight weeks we both walk away, no questions asked.” I opened my eyes. “And no one needs to know. No Henry, or Travis, or anyone. Just us, then we walk away.”
“Is that what you want, Grace?”
“It is,” I lied, because I wanted so much more.
“Why?”
“Why what?” I asked.
“Why is it goodbye, no questions asked?”
“Because we both have our own lives and questions just create unnecessary complications,” I pointed out. “We should just keep this easy, right?”
“I must be losing my mind to actually be considering this,” he muttered. I held my breath, waiting, and when his nod finally came after a full minute I was sure I’d turned blue. “Okay.”
Was that it? Okay and he was mine for eight weeks? Would he walk away no questions asked? I had to be sure. No. I needed to be sure. “Promise me, Casey, that after eight weeks we both walk away.”
His blue eyes turned sombre as he stared at me. Something about him right then looked so broken it almost hurt to see. It was the same look when he told me that heartbreaking story about his past. I couldn’t have done anything else but kiss him, never wanting to see that look in his eyes ever
again.
Then the look was wiped from his face. “Alright. I promise.”
The doctor walked in, his eyes focused on a chart. Casey moved back to my side and picked up my hand, lacing our fingers together while the doctor flicked through the pages in front of him.
When he eventually looked up, his brown eyes were amused. “Grace Paterson?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
He waved the patient profile sheet I’d been required to complete in the waiting room. “You have an interesting occupation.”
“I do?” Casey had completed the questionnaire for me when he saw me squinting at the page. Without my reading glasses, I could have been signing away my firstborn child for all I knew. My eyes narrowed on Casey before giving the doctor my full attention. “What exactly do I do, Doctor…” I glanced at his nametag “…Reed?”
“It says right here that you’re a Surfboard Wrangler,” he replied, sitting the chart on the bed and reaching for the stethoscope from his neck.
Casey snorted beside me, the bed shuddering under his silent chuckle. I jabbed him with my elbow when the doctor turned his back. He winked at me and grinned. I stared wordlessly. He was so beautiful I felt something inside my heart shift. Enough that I wanted to memorise every wild, crazy moment with him so that when I left, I could replay it on an endless loop.
“What?” he whispered, squeezing my hand, his lips still curved in a smile.
Whatever I’d felt for any other man in my past faded because I knew then that I was looking at the man who was going to break my heart. I opened my mouth to tell him the proposal was off, that I’d changed my mind, but when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t form the words.
“Nothing,” I replied.
“John,” I whispered, still mindful of Henry lurking as I finished my recount. “What the hell am I doing?”
“You’re in a haze of lust, Grace. Just roll with it. Have sex with him a few times and it’ll pass.”
“You’re wrong,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Sometimes having a male best friend worked against you. I would seriously be questioning my morals if I took even half the advice John dished out.