One

Chapter Twenty

CHASING THE SUN

LAKE

“Wine?” I held up a bottle of sauvignon blanc when Penny opened her door.

“You look like shit, doll face.” She stepped aside. “Come in. Rupert went to visit his parents.”

She poured the wine while I collapsed on her sofa.

“Boy trouble? Can’t be that, can it?”

Penny knew about my past, so much more than Cage did.

I recapped the fight we had. Twice. The first time I was sober and gave Cage a lot of slack because he’d been living with unaddressed demons for three years.

The second time my ego stepped up to the mic, under the influence of three glasses of wine, and said every mean thing I wanted to say to Cage.

Reason five-hundred and fifty-one why Penny Weiss was just the absolute best: she never bashed Cage.

Rupert? He was a 24/7 victim of being thrown under the bus.

She somehow knew I needed a sounding board, yet at the same time she knew I loved Cage with ferocity.

I was always on board with Flint and keeping our guy “squeaky clean” because in spite of everything, Cage Monaghan really was a kind, genuine soul.

My lover.

My friend.

My reason.

“I hope you’re not too drunk to remember this.” She giggled. “Hell, I hope I’m not too drunk to say this correctly. I could easily fuck up this advice and you’ll leave here and dump his gorgeous ass. So whatever you do … no matter what I say, don’t dump his gorgeous ass.”

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. The alcohol made the room spin a bit too much. “Give it to me, Penny Poo.”

“He gave you something very personal, and while I’m sure it came out a bit harsh, the fact is he trusted you explicitly with something so raw.

It sounded ugly because it didn’t just flow from him, it ripped past his heart to get to you.

And from what you’ve told me, I think you reacted so much better than most, if not all other women, would have done.

The love you have for each other is something so …

so real, so fucking amazing and earth-shattering that no matter what … you will survive.

“You said it yourself, even when he tries to talk dirty to you, he can’t do it without saying ‘I love you.’ That’s rare and so special, doll face.

Do you get it? I’m not sure any other guy, if given the chance to talk dirty to his woman, would waste three of his words on ‘I love you.’ You don’t ask him to say it, hell, you practically give him permission not to say it, but he has to.

For him. He can’t be with you and not say it.

It’s that fucking important to him. You’re that important to him. ”

I sighed. She was right. “I should go see him, make things right.”

“Oh … no way, honey. His actions are one hundred percent excusable, but they’re still wrongdoings. You need to let him simmer with it and wait for him to come to you. Obviously, he has a lot of emotional shit he’s dealing with. I know it sounds cliché, but time really is the answer.”

I needed out.

I needed to breathe.

I, too, needed time.

I flew out to L.A. the next morning. Penny agreed to look after Trzy; the hairless cat wasn’t an issue for her allergies.

I also texted Cage before boarding the plane.

Lake: I’m sorry. I just need you to know that I feel your pain, just differently. Have a safe holiday. I love you.

I shut down my phone and watched Minneapolis fade into the distance through the window of the plane. It made my heart ache.

When I landed in L.A., I felt better. Maybe we both needed to say what we did even if it hurt the other to hear it. The only thing harder than dealing with feelings was allowing other people to have them also, especially when they weren’t the same as mine. I had to trust time.

Time to heal.

Time to forgive.

Time to let go of the past.

Time to hold on to the future.

The hotel the magazine booked for me to stay at during the shoot didn’t have any available rooms until my original check-in date, so I got a room at a less glamorous hotel, but it was on the beach, so it didn’t matter.

I needed the blue waters of Mother Earth to remind me of my insignificance and how my problems didn’t matter because … Ben died and I lived.

I hadn’t been to the beach since my accident.

At one point I felt certain I’d never go to another beach in my life.

My remaining foot missed the feel of the sand between its toes.

Parts of my skin hadn’t seen the sun in years.

Nothing compared to the feeling of the sun on my face, like it rose that morning just to shine on me.

Thank you, sun.

I didn’t acknowledge the photos that I knew were being taken of me. Sports star’s girlfriend, vacationing without him, pale body sprawled out on the beach with a prosthetic leg sticking out of the sand like a stick. Yeah, yeah, I didn’t give a shit because really … Sun. On. My. Face.

The moment felt tangible, like the elements were physically hugging me. So on a beach in Los Angeles, under a perfect sky with the wind whispering a beautiful lullaby along my skin … I found what had eluded me for so long.

Sleep.

Three hours later I woke with a dried trail of drool from the corner of my mouth to my shoulder. It hurt to open my eyes. My whole face felt puffy and … burnt.

“Oh my God!” I bolted up.

Red.

“No, no, no …” I scrambled for my leg. It wasn’t there.

It. Wasn’t. There!

The beachgoers had dwindled to a few people walking along the shoreline in the distance. I flipped over, grimacing at the sand rubbing against my burnt legs.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

Casting aside my pain, I dug like a dog in the sand. Why? Why would someone take my leg? Who does that?

I’m not sure when it started. At first I thought it was rain. Nope. The drops in the sand were my tears. I sat back on my towel and gently brushed the sand from my arms and legs.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

So many thoughts fought for my attention.

Thad would kill me. I lost his leg that no doubt cost more than my car.

I was alone in L.A., stranded on a beach that looked more abandoned with each passing moment as the sun began to set.

The last thought was the worst part: I couldn’t walk.

My hopping skills were quite good, but not in the sand.

The photo shoot that would never happen.

I didn’t need a mirror to see my face. My arms and legs said it all.

Glancing down, I eased my top away from my chest just to confirm.

“Holy shit!” I looked like a candy cane.

The entrance to my hotel was a good two hundred yards away.

I considered crawling it, but there was no way that would end well.

Another scan of the area revealed no one within earshot.

Luckily my bag that I’d used as a pillow was still there.

I dug out my phone, frowning at the last bar.

“Come on, God. I don’t want to believe that you hate me, but some days are really hard to swallow.

Just saying …” Time was running out on the day, and my phone battery.

The problem was I had no idea who to call.

Everyone I knew was at least six hours away, and I couldn’t justify worrying friends and family who really couldn’t help me.

A laugh released with my sob. I had to laugh. “Really, Lake? Are you going to be stubborn to your own demise?”

9-1-1 seemed to be the wisest choice, but I didn’t want the news camera that could accompany that call. I needed someone who would know how to handle my epically stupid predicament.

“Please don’t die,” I begged my battery to holdout while I made my call.

“Flint,” he answered.

“It’s Lake and my battery is going to die so just listen and then respond as fast as you can.

I’m stranded on Reef Beach in L.A. with probably second-degree burns from the sun and someone stole my leg.

I’m by myself, and I don’t want to attract media attention by calling 9-1-1, but honestly I don’t think I have a choice.

” I tried to stifle a sob, but I knew he heard it.

“I’m in pain.” I gave up hiding my sobs.

Truth? I was scared and my pulse could be felt along my skin and it hurt so damn bad.

“I’ve got you. Fifteen minutes. Someone will be there.”

The lump in my throat was hard to speak past. “Th-thank you,” I whispered.

Just before my phone died, I noticed a missed text from Cage he sent while I was frying myself.

Cage: I love you too.

It made me cry even more as my body shook with chills and my stomach roiled with nausea.

CAGE

Four hours of game footage later, I still couldn’t get Lake off my mind.

I was such an asshole to her. Everyone said, “You really should talk to someone about your dad.” Nope, not me.

I didn’t need a shrink to analyze my feelings over my father’s death and the events that led up to it.

All I needed was to focus on the game. That’s what he would have wanted.

Three. Fucking. Years of pent-up emotions and out of everyone, I chose to let them explode on Lake.

I should have chased her. I should have been on the next plane to L.A.

to beg for her forgiveness, but I needed to get things right in my head first. Her text shot a bullet right to my heart.

Of course she’d forgive me before I ever asked her to.

That was just one of the million reasons I loved her.

I kept my reply simple because what I wanted to say could not be said in a text.

As I shut down my computer, surrendering to my lack of focus, my phone rang. I wanted it to be her. It wasn’t.

“Flint, what’s up?”

“Hey, buddy. I really hate calling you about this, and I know it’s a mistake, but I have this feeling that if I don’t tell you, you’ll find out I knew and that threat you always make about firing me … it will become my reality.”

“Word efficiency, Flint. You never use this many words without making an actual point. What the hell is it?”

“Lake called me about thirty minutes ago.”