Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
In which Ocean decides we’re going sightseeing, but we end up having a heartbreaking conversation .
The next day, I met with the Krause Group for the second time, but Ocean didn’t accompany me. I told him I’d only be going over all the numbers anyway—nothing exciting for him to see or do. So, instead, he opted to head out to surf.
He’d warned me he’d be gone for most of the day, as it was a bit of a drive to Bells Beach. He’d rented a car for the day—which I had insisted on paying for since I was the reason he was so far away from the beaches. It was a beautiful day with a bit of a breeze. Perfect weather conditions, as Ocean explained. I didn’t see any of it while stuck inside an office, but I did like what I saw about the numbers for the Krause Group.
On the drive over to the Krause Group, I called my parents again. Usually, I drove to their home in the Catskills every other weekend, but obviously, that wasn’t happening now. But my mom got a little anxious when she didn’t hear from me for too long, so I made a mental note to remember to check-in. We only talked for a few minutes, but it was enough to ease her mind.
When I returned to the hotel, I had back-to-back Zoom meetings, and by the time the last one was done, Ocean had also returned, smelling of salt, sea, and sand. His smile was the broadest I’d ever seen, and I was happy he’d had such a good day. We ordered room service and ate in our room, watching House Hunters , which Ocean admitted he was addicted to.
“We’re going sightseeing today,” Ocean announced the next morning as we were eating breakfast in our suite, wearing the fluffy bathrobes the hotel provided.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s Saturday, so you’re off.”
I chuckled. “I usually work on Saturdays.”
“Not today, you don’t.”
“But I have?—”
“Is there anything urgent that can’t wait until Monday?”
“Monday?” I frowned. “I can’t work tomorrow either?”
Ocean crossed his arms, sending me a stern look. “You’re in one of my favorite cities in the world. You can’t be here for four weeks and not see anything of it.”
“Between you and Oliver, you’re worse than travel agents,” I muttered.
“I have a feeling Oliver and I would get along very well.”
Jesus, there was a frightening thought. They’d turn my whole existence upside down and smile while doing it. “Lord help me when you two ever meet…”
“I can’t wait.” Ocean stretched lazily, then stuffed the last bit of croissant into his mouth and got up.
“Where are you going?”
“Picking an outfit for you. We’ll be walking all day.”
Jesus take the wheel, was he serious? Oh, he was. Within thirty seconds, he’d laid out a pair of dark-blue shorts, a white Polo shirt, some canvas-type shoes I didn’t recognize with the dubious brand of HEYDUDE on them, and no-show socks. He threw a pair of my new underwear on top. “That’ll do.”
Was there even any sense in protesting? It would only delay the inevitable and cost me a lot of energy. So I sighed deeply. “I’ll hop in the shower.”
“Don’t forget to clean yourself.”
My cheeks heated instantly. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I thought that was a one-time thing.”
He grinned. “No, you didn’t. You hoped it was a one-time thing, and it’s not. I want to be able to fuck you whenever the mood strikes, so can you do this for me? Please?”
Jesus, when he said please and looked at me like that, I couldn’t even form the word no. “If it makes you happy,” I grumbled, stomping to the bathroom.
“It does, Cash. It makes me very happy.”
Well, that was something, at least. Half an hour later, my ass was squeaky clean, I was slathered in sunscreen at Ocean’s urging, and I was dressed in the clothes Ocean had picked out for me. Which, I had to admit, looked good on me. And the shoes were surprisingly comfy, not at all what I had expected.
“Perfect.” Ocean handed me a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses I didn’t even know I’d brought, as well as a white baseball cap. “You’re gonna need these too.”
“I didn’t know I owned these.”
He grinned. “Until yesterday, you didn’t. I bought them at the beach.”
Of course he had. “Thank you?”
“You’ll be grateful for them once we’re outside, trust me. The sun here is no joke.”
I had no doubt. It was easier not to fight him. Besides, if I agreed to do some sightseeing today, Oliver would get off my ass as well, and I’d be able to get work done the rest of the time.
The morning sun caressed my skin as Ocean and I stepped out of the hotel. Ocean’s confident stride set our pace as we headed toward the laneways, the name for the smaller streets Melbourne was famous for.
“Ready for an adventure, Cash?” Ocean flashed his devil-may-care grin that made my heart skip.
“Lead on.” I hoped I projected confidence because inside, nervous excitement fluttered. This was new territory for me—literally and figuratively.
“Why are these laneways so famous?” I asked as we walked.
“They have the cutest shops and restaurants, but you can also find amazing street art there, like murals and graffiti.”
“Graffiti? I thought that was vandalism.”
“Not this kind, but you’ll see.”
He wasn’t wrong. Within minutes, we wound our way through narrow alleys, the walls alive with bursts of color and intricate designs. Ocean’s eyes lit up as he pointed out some pieces that spoke to him.
“Check this out,” he said, gesturing to a massive mural of swirling blues and greens. “He’s a well-known artist, and he uses actual sand mixed in with the paint to give it texture. Makes you feel like you’re really underwater, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, captivated not so much by the art, though it was nice enough, but by Ocean’s enthusiasm. The way he brought the piece to life with his words made me see it very differently. “I’ve never seen street art quite like this.”
“That’s what I love about Melbourne. It’s always changing, always surprising you.”
As we rounded another corner, Ocean’s hand found mine and he laced our fingers together. Butterflies took flight in my stomach.
We paused in front of another mural, this one a riot of geometric shapes and bold primary colors. I was drawn to the intricate patterns, seeing new details emerge the longer I looked.
“What do you see?” Ocean asked softly.
I hesitated, unused to being asked for my opinion on art. In my world, decisiveness was key. But here, with Ocean, I felt safe to explore. “It’s chaotic, but there’s an underlying order to it. Like life, I suppose. Messy on the surface, but with hidden patterns if you look close enough.”
Ocean’s smile was warm. “I knew you had an artist’s soul hiding under that power suit.”
I was pleased and a little embarrassed by his praise. As we continued our walk, I found myself opening up more, sharing my thoughts on each piece we encountered. Ocean listened intently, his perceptive comments drawing me out further.
The aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans enveloped us as Ocean guided me into a quaint café tucked away in one of the smaller laneways. The space was cozy, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning exposed brick walls. It felt worlds away from the sleek, modern establishments I usually frequented.
Ocean approached the counter with easy confidence. “Two flat whites, please. And let’s try that single-origin Ethiopian you’ve got on pour-over.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ordering for both of us now, are you?”
He simply shrugged. “I know what you like.”
I found it hard to argue with that.
We settled into a corner table, our knees brushing beneath the small surface. When our coffees arrived, the rich, complex aroma hit me immediately.
“Go on,” Ocean urged. “Tell me what you think.”
I took a careful sip, letting the flavors dance across my tongue. “Oh, wow. It’s bold but with subtle fruity notes. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.”
Ocean’s smile was triumphant. “See? It pays to try something new.”
“You’re saying that because you want me to try surfing,” I teased him.
“There’s nothing like that moment when you catch the perfect wave,” he said, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. “It’s like the whole world falls away, and it’s you and the ocean, moving as one.”
“It sounds freeing.”
Ocean’s eyes locked with mine. “It is. Total freedom.”
Something stirred within me—a longing I hadn’t even known existed. When was the last time I’d felt truly free?
“I’d love to see you surf sometime.”
Ocean’s smile widened. “I’d love to teach you, Cash. There’s nothing quite like sharing that rush with someone special.”
My heart skipped a beat at “someone special.” Was I becoming special to Ocean? The thought both thrilled and terrified me. “How did you get into surfing?” I asked. “It wasn’t something Preston did.”
“We went on a trip to Hawaii when I was ten, and as usual, they dumped me in some kids program at the all-inclusive resort we were staying at. One of the activities I could try was surfing, and since I was bored out of my mind, I figured, why not? As soon as I hit my first wave, I was hooked. When we got back, I took lessons—though learning to surf on the East Coast is not easy. But I begged my parents to send me to a surfing summer camp in California, and since they were usually glad to be rid of me, they agreed. I stayed for six weeks, and after that, I surfed every chance I got.”
As much as I wanted to focus on the excitement in his voice, I couldn’t ignore the casual references to his upbringing. “What do you mean they were glad to be rid of you?”
He played with the spoon he’d used to stir his coffee. “What do you remember of me as a kid?”
Whenever he reminded me of the age gap between us, I had to swallow a little unease. But I frowned as I tried to remember. “You were a gorgeous kid. Your eyes were different, not quite as blue as they are now, and you had these cute curls. Your mom loved showing you off, and at some point, she even mentioned signing you up as a model or kid actor for commercials and whatnot.”
“And Preston?”
My frown deepened. “I don’t… I can’t recall any interactions between him and you, not after the first few weeks.”
He slowly nodded. “There are no pictures of him and me together after I was three months old. None. We have some official family portraits, the kind you do for Christmas, and I have countless pictures of myself that my mom took, and some of her and me, but none with me and my father. It’s like he never spent time with me on his own, and from what I remember, he didn’t. I was in a private school, driven to and from school by a chauffeur, and I had every possible materialistic luxury I could possibly want. But the one thing I craved most, my father’s attention, I never got.”
My heart broke for him. “I didn’t see it. I knew Preston wasn’t happy with what he saw as Marcia tricking him into marriage, but I didn’t realize he treated you like that. She didn’t. She loved you with her whole heart.”
His eyes grew sad. “She had her first OD when I was nine. Our housekeeper found her and called 9-1-1. They administered Naloxone, the predecessor to Narcan, and managed to save her. The second time was seven months later, and that time, I found her.”
Nine? That must’ve been around the same time Preston and I had our falling out, for lack of a better word, because I’d had no idea. “Jesus, Ocean… I’m so sorry. No child should have to deal with that.”
“No, but I did. Before he and you parted ways, he wasn’t great, but he was at least home sometimes. After that, he all but vanished. He’d spent whole weeks being gone, and I had no idea where he was.”
Parted ways. That was one way to describe it. “I didn’t know it affected him that much.”
Ocean finished his coffee and leaned back. “He never expected you to walk away from him.”
“After what he did to me?” I practically spat out. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d stayed in that friendship… There was never a real friendship to begin with. Friends don’t treat each other the way he did.”
“He’s not a good man, and that’s the understatement of the year. But I think that somehow, he still expected you to stay, to forgive him.”
I shook my head firmly. “What he did was unforgivable. And honestly, I don’t even think he was sorry. Yeah, maybe sorry he got caught, but not sorry for the pain he caused me.”
Ocean briefly put his hand on top of mine. “I know, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“Thank you.” I took a steadying breath. “But this isn’t about me. We were talking about you.”
He shrugged. “There’s no reason we can’t do both. Our stories interconnect when it comes to Preston.”
He had a point, and how sad was that? “Did Marcia ever try to get off the drugs?”
“Oh, plenty of times. She was clean for a few months when I was twelve, after a three-month stay in a detox clinic in Utah somewhere. But then my father got one of his many girlfriends pregnant, and Mom lost it. She reached for the drugs again, and after that, she never was able to kick her habit again, though she tried.”
Holy shit. “Preston has more kids?”
Ocean nodded. “Three that I know of, with three different women. Makes me grateful I’m gay because I’m sure there are more, and at least I can’t accidentally knock up a half-sister, you know?”
It was a weak attempt at humor, but I acknowledged it with a chuckle anyway. He deserved that much. “What happened after your mom passed away?”
“I was shipped off to boarding school.”
“Boarding school? Jesus, your mom had died. You needed support. What the fuck was he thinking?”
“That he didn’t ever want to see me again? But seriously, it was actually amazing. I loved not being home after she was gone, and I made really close friends. It also allowed me to experiment with my sexuality to my heart’s desire, and those memories are even better.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“I’m not. Not anymore. My life is a thousand times better without Preston in it, and I can honestly say I don’t miss him at all. Not even a little bit. He’s a cold-hearted bastard, and I’m glad I never have to see him again.”
On that, we could agree. I’d initially pegged Ocean as a carefree surfer, but I’d been so wrong. He hid a lot of depth and layers behind that sunny exterior…and it only made me like him more.