Chapter 19 #2
I nod, gaze snagging on Willow as she stands, pulling another drink from the cooler, and takes a swig before she stumbles around the fire. My eyes follow her as she approaches her ex, Cam—or whatever the fuck his name is. Some conversation I can’t hear passes between them, and he stands up.
I shuffle my feet uncomfortably, some kind of sticky, nauseating, red-hot sensation rattling my bones.
“Don’t worry about Cam, by the way.” Zander nudges me when he notices I’m staring.
“I don’t doubt he cared for Willow, but the only person he’s ever been in love with is her dad.
He always hoped Leo would invite him into the training program, but Cam never had the skill.
I think he thought dating Willow would secure him a place, and he’s still chasing that hope.
” He shrugs. “She never loved him either, though.”
After a moment, they embrace, and a surge of panic shoots through me, that nausea rising up my throat.
Willow doesn’t appear afraid, she’s not rigid as she was earlier.
When she pulls back, she’s smiling. It’s not the shimmering ray of sunlight I’ve seen on her face when she’s genuinely happy.
It’s polite and guarded, the kind of smile she’d offer a customer at work or a stranger on the street.
Cam motions to the ground beside him, I assume offering to let her sit with him and his friends.
Willow shakes her head, and he nods, taking a step back.
She waves before turning and walking back in my direction, swaying with every step.
I expect her to return to Allie, but she doesn’t, she comes to me instead.
My chest expands with something warm—soft and gooey and filling—as she sits beside me, throwing her legs over one of my thighs and tucking her feet beneath my other leg’s knee. She loops her arm through mine, resting her head on my shoulder. “Can I touch you like this?”
“Yeah, Wills. You can touch me.”
Please touch me, in fact. I’ve never wanted another’s touch quite so much. That all-consuming hunger envelops me again. An unrelenting need. A fire that only burns when she’s near.
“Can you touch me too?”
I answer by grabbing her outer knee with my free hand, tugging her closer, and resting my head atop hers. I draw circles over her lower thigh with my thumb. A long exhale leaves her lips, warming my jaw, sending a chill down my spine.
Her breathing grows heavier, mixing with the buzz of soft conversation floating in the air around us. When I lift my eyes, I catch Cam’s across the fire, narrowed and blazing. A sick satisfaction rushes through me, and I can’t fight the smile I send his way.
Time passes, and the crowd around the fire begins to diminish until only a few unfamiliar faces remain when Allie groans, “I want to go to sleep.”
“C’mon. I’ll put you to bed,” Archer says. But when he helps her up and leads her toward one of the tents, she pulls back.
“No. With you.”
“Allie—”
She breaks into tears.
“How drunk is she?” I mutter to Zander under my breath.
“She’s wasted.” He laughs, rubbing his jaw.
I lift my head, glancing down at Willow, fast asleep on my shoulder. That warmth in my chest blazes brighter at her peaceful face.
Archer turns toward us, eyes wide with a helpless expression.
“Just let her sleep in your tent, Arch. It’s not going to change anything with that asshole at this point, anyway.”
He lets out a long sigh, nodding in agreement before he walks Allie to one of the tents set up on the other side of the fire.
“Wills?” I gently nudge her. “You want to go to bed?”
“Mm-hmm,” she groans, but doesn’t wake.
“Do you want me to help put her to bed?” Cam calls from across the fire. I can’t help but notice he’s lingered, even though the group he came with has all dissipated.
I glance at Zander, who gives me a curt nod before responding, “No, Weston’s got her. Can you help me carry this ice chest over to my tent, though?”
Cam grumbles an agreement, rising with Zander. I gently unlink mine and Willow’s arms before wrapping one around her back and the other beneath her legs, carrying her toward her tent. She stirs when I shift her weight to one side and bend awkwardly to catch the zipper, rising to open the tent.
“All right, Willow. C’mon.” I duck inside with her still in my arms, squatting to lay her as gently as I can onto the sleeping bag. “Do you have pajamas you want to change into?”
“No.” She rolls onto her stomach, groaning. “Wipe.”
“Um . . . what?”
“My face.” She lifts an arm, pointing at her head. I’m not sure she realizes she’s lying face down. “Makeup. Off.”
“Makeup remover?” I ask in a poor attempt to decipher her slurred words.
She nods into the pillow. “Backpack.”
I glance around, locating a black bag in the corner of the tent. Rummaging through it, I find a small, blue pouch. Tearing it open, I pull out one of the wipes.
“Roll over for me, Wills.”
Thankfully, she complies, and I crouch over her. She keeps her eyes closed as I run the cool cloth over her skin, swiping beneath her eyes and over her cheeks, taking off as much of the makeup as I can manage. “All right. I think that’s good enough.”
She hums, eyes fluttering open as a drunken smile overtakes her beautiful face. She blinks at me, lifting a hand to pat my cheek. “You were written by a woman, methinks.”
I smile, completely mystified by her. I have no idea what that means, but I don’t think it was an insult. I reach down to touch her face, brushing a thumb over her cheek. Her skin is soft and smooth, still damp and chilled.
“Good night, Willow,” I whisper.
“You can stay, Wes,” she whispers back, giving me her signature pout and batting her wild eyes.
“No, baby.” I shake my head. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”
She sighs, nodding, before turning on her side.
I back out of the tent, the only people left on the beach are Zander and Willow’s ex, talking outside his tent.
Cam steals a glance in my direction, and a bite of unease pinches at my nerves.
I don’t fucking care how well Willow knows him.
I don’t care if he’s friends with her cousins. I don’t trust him.
There is no way I’m going back up this cliffside if he’s still at the base of it. No way I’m crawling in my bed while he’s so close to hers. No. Fucking. Way.
I find the piece of wood the twins were sitting on earlier—the same driftwood Willow leans against on peaceful mornings when she paints the sunrise—and drag it through the sand, sliding it in front of her tent’s opening.
I feel Zander and Cam’s gaze burning a hole through my back, but I pay them no mind.
I pull my hoodie over my head, cinch the drawstrings, and settle in the sand with my back propped against the wood.
Blocking Willow’s tent, I close my eyes, allowing the sound of crashing waves and her heavy breathing from the other side of the nylon lull me to sleep.
A gasped, “Oh fuck,” lurches me into consciousness.
Forcing my eyes open, I’m assaulted by daylight as I blink around, my mind registering my surroundings, remembering I’m still on the beach.
As I adjust to the brightness, the first vision to come into focus is the plump crease where Willow’s ass meets her thighs as she lays on the over top of my lap, the shorts she wore yesterday riding high on her hips.
The second thing I notice is that I’m rock fucking hard, and her stomach is making contact with my cock.
“If you stopped staring at my ass, it’d probably go down.”
“Honestly, Willow, it kind of feels like your ass is the one staring at me.”
She rolls over, propping herself onto her elbows, tossing me an eye roll. “Can you help me understand why I tripped over your big ass body leaving my tent this morning?”
“I slept here.” I yawn, stretching my arms over my head.
Her brows knit, and her eyes go soft. “You did? All night?”
I nod. “Wanted to be around in case you needed me. Wanted to make sure you stayed safe.”
“Wes—” She begins to sit up, but a stern voice calls from behind us, making her pause.
“You two look cozy.”
Dread slices my spine as Leo rounds the back side of Willow’s tent, towering above us with his hands on his hips. The smile he shoots my way is sickly sweet. Reminiscent of how a lion bares its teeth before tearing through its prey.
“I got drunk last night,” Willow says, shading her eyes with her hand as she looks up at her dad. “Weston slept outside my tent all night just in case I needed him. I didn’t know this, on account of being passed out, so I tripped over him when I tried to leave this morning.”
“Outside?” Leo asks, raising a brow.
“Yep. Even though I totally invited him to sleep with me.” Willow winks at me. “You should reward him for being such a gentleman. Give him the day off.”
Leo flashes his dimples at his daughter. “How about I reward him with my undivided attention?” He turns to me. “Does that work for you, Weston? Would training with myself and a two-time gold medalist be sufficient for you today?”
“Yes, sir. That’d be lovely. Thank you.”
He softens when he looks at me. It’s almost imperceptible, and I know he and Willow are being playful, but I catch the sincerity on his face.
“Good. Liv should be here in about fifteen minutes so why don’t you run up to the house, get changed, and bring your board back down.
It’s time to start training for your first competition. ”
“Competition?” I ask, choking on the word.
“You said you wanted to be an Olympian.” He shrugs. “Better start competing like one.”
“Which competition?” Willow asks.
“I registered you for a Challenger in San Diego two weeks from today.”
“I don’t have a membership for the World Surf League. I never paid the fees,” I admit, bashful.
“I took care of that,” Leo says. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh. Th—Thank you.”
Leo nods, turning toward his daughter. “Sugar, Lou, Dahlia, and Mom are going paddleboarding this morning while Liv is training with us—if you want to join them.”
Willow wipes a hand down her face. “I am so hungover,” she groans.
“But maybe the saltwater would feel good. Yeah . . .” She yawns as she finally lifts herself off me, though I’m grateful she covered me long enough for the evidence of my .
. . excitement to go down. Willow sits on her knees, leaning in to plant a kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispers before standing, giving her dad a hug and walking off in the direction of the other tents.
Leo and I are quiet for a moment as I stand and dust the sand off my shorts, watching as Willow rouses Allie and the twins, demanding Allie come paddling with the rest of them since it’s her fault Willow’s so hungover. Once the four of them amble down the beach on tired legs, Leo turns back to me.
“I appreciate you taking care of her last night.” He rubs his jaw. “You know how I feel about you two being alone together, though.”
“I respect that,” I say, gruff. Either sand or apprehension is stuck in my throat.
Maybe both. “I didn’t go inside her tent.
Not only because she was drunk, but because I knew it’d make you uncomfortable.
We were never alone, but . . . I know about her ex.
Why she left Berkeley.” Leo’s jaw ticks, and I hold up my hands.
“I know what she’s struggling with, and I wanted to make sure if she woke up in the middle of the night and felt unsafe, I’d be nearby. ”
“That it?” he asks.
“No.” I swallow the frog in my throat, running a hand through my hair, forcing myself to meet Leo’s eyes—he needs to see the conviction in them.
“I am enamored with your daughter. I couldn’t be more serious when I tell you I’ve never felt something like this before.
I don’t know if she feels the same about me, but I can’t keep hiding it.
“I respect the boundaries you’ve set, but I want you to know that if they have anything to do with Willow’s past, with what Parker did to her .
. . I’m not that guy. I know where I come from, and I know why you feel the way you do, but I also know I’d be a fool not to take the chance if Willow offered it to me.
I won’t apologize for that. I won’t apologize for seeing how incredible she is. ”
His lips quirk up in the corner, the most of a smile he’s going to offer me, but it’s a look of approval, nonetheless. A soaring sensation spreads through my chest.
“I won’t argue with you about any of that, Weston.
I appreciate your honesty. I appreciate that my daughter has found some comfort and solace with you, but I’ll need you both to remember how fragile you are.
I asked you to keep your distance because I didn’t want her rushing into something new and getting hurt worse.
I’m not the kind of man that’s going to lock my daughter in her room and dictate every choice she makes.
” He frowns, eyes going unfocused before he shakes his head and directs his gaze to me again.
“And I don’t give a fuck about your background.
I care about your actions. Who you are. Parker comes from a family of doctors, speaks three languages, and went on mission trips every summer as a kid—and look at what a piece of shit he turned out to be. ”
I bite down a laugh.
“I like you, Weston, but I can’t watch her . . .” His voice cracks on the words. Clearing the emotion from his throat, Leo continues, “I can’t watch her break again. I’m happy she’s found a friend in you, but I can’t get on board with anything more than that right now.”
It’s clear that Willow’s trauma didn’t just affect her, it’s shaken her entire family. I’m disappointed that I haven’t earned Leo’s favor, and I don’t think I have the strength to stay away from Willow at this point, but I have too much respect for him to fight back on it right now.
I’ll just have to earn his approval.
“I understand.” I nod, turning to head toward the house so I can change and grab my board before Liv arrives.
“And Wes?” Leo calls as I pass him. “If you do hurt my daughter—in any sense of the word—this opportunity is over for you. There will be no second chances. Understood?”
I turn back at him, anchoring his gaze, keeping my voice even as I respond, “I’ll never hurt Willow, but this opportunity is the least of my reasons why.”