Chapter 22
WESTON
The buzzing is incessant.
I groan, reaching across the mattress to find the source of the obnoxious vibration coming from my bedside table. Forcing my heavy eyes open, I blink at the daylight, turning my phone in my palm to see who the fuck would be calling me at this hour—fuck.
Leo’s calling.
It’s six thirty, and I’m already a half-hour late.
I sit up too quickly, and the sheets slip over her hips, revealing her perfect fucking ass. I groan, sliding my thumb across the screen, answering my coach’s call when his daughter mutters at the disturbance as she rolls to her side.
Oh, I’m fucked. I’m so fucked.
“Hello?” My voice is gravel.
“I’m not coming in there because I’m afraid of what I’ll find,” he grumbles. “But you have thirty fucking seconds to get your ass outside or I’m pulling you from that Challenger.”
“Coming,” I choke.
Willow giggles into her pillow. Leo grunts as he hangs up.
“You’re trouble,” I murmur, pressing a kiss into her mess of hair. She turns, peering up at me with those soul-crushing blue eyes, an amused smile playing at her lips. Brushing her cheek, I whisper, “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Her brows furrow, and she shakes her head. “Don’t be. Surfing is a priority, Weston. I won’t ever ask you to change that. I’m sorry I kept you up so late you overslept.”
“Don’t be,” I whisper, kissing her slowly, savoring the moment. “You’re a priority too—it’s not your fault I didn’t set my alarm.”
I peck her lips once more before leaping from the bed. As quickly as possible, I change into a pair of swim bottoms and brush my teeth, grabbing my wetsuit from the basket of clean laundry outside my bedroom before pausing in the doorway to get one last look at Willow.
She’s still in bed, no rush to move, surrounded by pillows and scrolling through her phone. She must feel my stare, because she stops before glancing in my direction. “You better get out there, Killer.”
“You look good in my bed, Trouble.” An effortless smile spreads over my cheeks. “Wish I had a photo of it.”
“You’re late,” she sing-songs with a laugh, blowing me a kiss.
I’m grinning like a goddamn fool as I step out of the house and shuffle down the porch steps, though it falls when I round the railing and find Leo Graham standing at the edge of the staircase that leads down to the cove, frowning at me.
“I’m sorry.”
His nostrils flare. “I know.”
Without another word, he begins descending the cliffside with both of our boards in hand. The morning passes much the same way. Curt direction from Leo, demand to complete specific maneuvers or pay better attention to my form, hard encouragement to try again when I fail.
At the end of our session, we wade out of the waves, and he hands me a water bottle as I toss my board into the sand.
“I think you have about the best reason on the planet to be distracted right now, which makes what I’m about to say difficult,” he mutters, gaze fixed on the blue horizon.
“My concerns over this budding relationship go farther than just being protective over my daughter. I asked you weeks ago if you were serious about this, and you promised me you were. You promised me focus. This isn’t focused, Weston. ”
“I—”
He holds up a hand. “I can’t tell you that you’re too good to be distracted by some girl, because that girl deserves dedication.
I can’t allow her to settle for less than that.
I can’t even tell you that I blame you, because I think she’s worth far more than surfing or titles or gold medals ever could be, and I don’t want her to be with someone who wouldn’t agree with me. ”
“She is.” I nod rapidly. “She is worth more than that.”
“Do you see what position you’ve put me in?” He rubs the tension out of his jaw, sighing. “I don’t want to waste my time on an athlete who isn’t serious about their craft, and I sure as fuck do not want my daughter wasting her time on a man who isn’t serious about her.”
“I can be both.” The words rush from my mouth before he has the chance to question them. “Today was a slip up, and you’ve got every right to be concerned, but it won’t happen again. Willow won’t let it happen again, either. She’s as invested in my surfing as I am.”
“And who’s invested in her, Weston?”
“Me.” I tap my chest. “I swear to you, I can do both. I can do surfing and I can do Wi—” He shoots me a glare. “I can be there for Willow too.”
“What happens when she goes back to college? When you go on tour? What do you plan on then?”
I huff, dropping my gaze to my feet as a hand comes to my neck, rubbing out the tension there. “We haven’t exactly discussed that yet.”
This is new—especially for me, I’ve never even been on a date—and it’s scary for both Willow and me, and I wish I didn’t have to explain that to her fucking dad.
“Willow’s been through . . .” He pauses, and I look up to find him shaking his head, pacing the sand in front of me. “It’s been hard. She’s still going through it, and . . .”
“I know. I know what she’s going through.”
Leo chews on his inner cheek, and there is a distance in his eyes that has the unease pricking at my spine.
“I told you I’m not going to lock my daughter away, and last night when she took one look at her phone, leaped from the dinner table, went out the back door, and didn’t return, I realized how invested she is too.
So . . .” He holds his hands out, as if he’s surrendering.
“But if you are late one more time, if you stop giving this your all, then there is no need for me to continue.”
“I won’t. I’m focused, I swear.”
“If Willow decides that she’s no longer comfortable with you here, you’re done. The ball is always in her court, and if she says the word, this is over.”
“I agree.” I nod. “I’m not going to fuck this up with her or with you, but if she asks me to leave, I’ll go.”
He swallows, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.
I bend down to grab my board before turning toward the cliffside when Leo calls from behind me, “And Weston?”
“Yeah?”
He catches up to me, and we ascend the stairs slowly. “If you two are going to be . . . whatever this is between you, you need to know that Parker has been trying to get in contact with her for some time now.”
“I know. I overheard a conversation at Honeysuckle a few—”
“There have been more.” His tone is so low, it’s nearly a growl.
A wave of apprehension crashes over me. “He’s sent mail to the house.
Called the other boardwalk businesses. Even tracked down Willow’s ex-boyfriend, Camden.
Messaged him and asked if they’d been together, and even after Cam told him no, Parker left threats, said she belonged to him. ”
Leo’s jaw quivers, squeezing his fists at his sides. The rage now shooting through my veins has my body reacting in much the same way.
“Before or after the Fourth of July?”
His eyes snap to mine. “After.”
Fuck. So Parker might know about me, then.
“You didn’t tell Willow any of this?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to burden her unless absolutely necessary.
I told Parker when he called the surf shop that I had cameras on every piece of property I own, and that if he’s caught on any of them, I’ll ruin his fucking life.
I also told him Willow was out of state for the summer, and if we heard from him again, I’d get a restraining order filed.
” He sighs, running a hand through his blond hair.
“Then, Parker found some photos on social media of our party on the Fourth, and must’ve assumed Willow was home after all.
That’s when he contacted Cam. Left a nasty voicemail.
” He barks a laugh. “Fucking idiot. I had Cam file a restraining order against him. It’s only been a few days, but we haven’t heard from him again.
I’m hoping it’s over now, and Willow never has to stress about this. ”
“I think she deserves to know,” I murmur as we reach the top of the stairs, tucking ourselves into a corner beside the guesthouse porch.
“She’s . . . facing a lot of guilt.” Leo chews his lip again, and I wonder if it’s a nervous habit, or if he’s not sure what to say. “The last thing I want is for her to internalize any of this harassment as a reason to feel guilty. I’d prefer she not know unless she absolutely has to.”
I don’t love the idea of this, but I nod. He knows her better than I do, and I have to respect that.
“I’m telling you because, if you’re going to be part of her life, this is what comes with it right now.
Do you understand?” I nod, and he continues, “If you receive any sort of weird message, phone call, see anyone around the boardwalk who looks like they shouldn’t be there . . . you come straight to me, okay?”
“I will,” I promise. “I’ll take care of her.”
Leo sighs, pinning me with haunted blue eyes, offering only a shallow nod. “Prove it.”
He leaves me on the porch as he stalks away.
I pull out my phone as I climb the porch stairs to the guesthouse, finding a notification from Willow.
No message, just a photo. Her eyes are bright, lips playfully quirked as she spreads out in my bed, hair splayed over my pillow.
She holds her phone with both hands, elbows squeezing her chest to accentuate her breasts, evidence of last night’s marking from my mouth on display above the neckline of her tank.
It rides up at her midsection, showcasing a band of tan skin between her shirt and her panties.
I set the photo as my lock screen and slip my phone back into my pocket, grinning like a fool once again.
“Hi, can I help you?” A cute brunette asks in a mousy voice from behind the counter as the bell on the door chimes, signaling my entrance.