Chapter 20
chapter twenty
Summer
one month later
“Surprisingly, he hasn’t been back in four weeks.
We left things on a good note … of sorts.
We spent my birthday together, got a little tipsy, and even played Monopoly.
Mom had the Peanuts version, and it turns out, we both used to play it with Mom and Russell when the other one wasn’t there.
He kicked my ass, but he kept his word and didn’t act like a jerk for the rest of the day. ”
Savannah is nodding along, pensively studying the water around our paddleboards.
She came to town for the Big Wave Surfing Competition.
We’ve texted and talked since Marg Fest, but this is our first time to see each other in person.
She asked me how things were going with Dayton, so I’m filling her in on what happened over my birthday.
“I thought it was weird that you hadn’t brought up him being a pain in the ass over the phone. Things had been so awkward the last time I saw both of you together. I can’t believe he just showed up that night and stayed at your studio with you, then acted totally normal on your birthday. It’s odd.”
I laugh right as a huge sea turtle surfaces a few feet away from our boards. We watch him silently take a breath of air before descending.
“That’s it; I’m moving here,” she says.
“Ha! You should. I’d let you sleep in my studio without a pillow boundary now that he’s finally gone.”
“Whoa! What? He slept in your bed?!” Her eyes widen as she stares at me.
I shrug. “I put up a pillow boundary, but, yeah … kind of. Where did you think he slept?”
She scoffs. “Uh, the floor, a cot, the back porch? Anywhere but in your bed.”
I chew my bottom lip, debating how many details I want to share about exactly what happened when Dayton invaded my private space and we shared a bed … and a birthday-morning orgasm.
I inhale deeply, releasing it slowly before speaking. “Okay, so I don’t think this means anything at all, and I’m only telling you this now because nothing has happened since, and nothing else is ever going to happen and—”
She squeals, her eyes lighting up as she paddles closer to me. “Tell me everything right now, bitch.”
I purse my lips, unable to look her in the eyes when I say it. I study the water as the story spills from my lips.
“I started having a sex dream, like a really, really vivid one. He … okay, I haven’t told you this yet either, but do you remember that night we all went to Cocktails and Chaos?”
Her eyes widen as she nods.
“So, that night, I guess he found out that I had broken up with Axel. He’d said something shitty to me about how my boyfriend didn’t want to sleep with me, and I was pissed, but I broke up with Axel, and then he told the table.
Well, Dayton put his hand on my thigh and squeezed it the entire night. ”
Her jaw drops. Her paddleboard starts drifting away from mine again, but the pure shock on her face is clear, even as she focuses on paddling back over to me.
“So, anyway, it was weird, and I didn’t know what to think of it, except that he just loves to fuck with my head; it’s like this sick game to him.
When we were in high school, he made out with my prom date’s ex, then punched my date in the face and still tried to drive me home.
Then, a few times the summer before he moved off to college, we would play that Are You Nervous?
game, where someone would touch your leg or your arm or whatever and move closer and closer to your boob or your vagina until you stopped them. ”
She nods, her eyes glued to my face.
“And it was just … I don’t know … it was like the way he did it, it wasn’t a joke.
It was intense, and he would stare into my eyes while he tried feeling me up.
I always told him to stop before he got too close.
So, that night at the bar, I just thought he was playing that game again, like the grown-up version, to see what I would do. ”
“So, what happened? He fingered you?”
I gasp. “Oh my gosh, no! We did not hook up. I might have self-esteem issues, but they’re not that bad.”
She scoffs. “Right, because hooking up with Dayton Copeland would be such a low point in a woman’s life.”
“Hooking up with your stepbrother who bullied you is quite the low point.”
She rolls her eyes. “So, what happened on your birthday? Was that when you reached your new low point?”
I shake my head. “No, we didn’t hook up.
I was having a sex dream, and it was about that night at Chaos, and I …
okay, the thigh-squeezing thing was just …
it turned me on. It would be the same with anyone if you’d gone as long as I had without any good sex, okay? It wasn’t because it was him,” I lie.
She reads me like a book, snorting a laugh.
“But anyway, I was having this sex dream, and I started touching myself in my sleep. And I forgot he was in bed with me.”
She sucks in a breath, nearly falling off her paddleboard. She rights herself and screams at me, “And then?!”
“Then I woke up and realized that I wasn’t exactly alone and that he was in the bed with me because he grabbed my hair, pulled it back right when I realized I wasn’t dreaming, and …
I think he might have come in his pants…
while he was watching me.” I nearly whisper the last part, but I know she heard me because her face goes from rapt fascination with my story to a blank stare of disbelief.
She blinks at me, shakes her head, and whistles.
“Damn, I wish I had a hot stepbrother who would squeeze my thigh under the table, invade my bed, and pull my hair.”
“Savannah! It’s not all that, trust me. I don’t want him. He doesn’t even want me. He’s messing with my head. That’s it. End of story. It’s a game to him.”
“Okay, but did you come?”
I purse my lips, looking away.
“Ha! I knew it. You’re into him. You’re attracted to him. Just admit it!”
“Okay, and? He’s physically very good-looking. Anyone can see that.”
“Yeah, but we both know a guy needs more than good looks. You’re attracted to him in more ways than one. If you weren’t, this story would’ve had a much different ending.”
I sigh, not wanting to acknowledge that she’s right, but knowing that she is. “But I know he’s not attracted to me. He said I was too vanilla in bed for Andrew to stay faithful.”
She gasps. “He did not say that. How could he even know that? What did he say exactly?”
“He had a … you know. He was hard one morning when he woke up, and I just said, ‘What is that?’ and he said something about how it makes sense why I’m divorced if I don’t know what that is. ”
She laughs at me, throwing her head back with a deep belly laugh, like it’s the funniest story she’s ever heard.
I use my paddle to shove her board while she’s distracted, and she yelps as she falls into the water.
She sputters back up to the surface, shoving my board and making me fall in with her.
I scream as I splash into the warm ocean. Once I kick back up to the surface, she’s already there, laughing. I shake my head, laughing with her. We crawl back up onto our boards and sit on them, legs dangling in the water.
“Ahh, I don’t know, Sav. It feels like debating whether or not I should partake in hard drugs at a party. It would feel so good for a while, but then what if I got addicted, and I couldn’t stop, and it completely ruined my life?”
“Oh my gosh, Sum, it’s not the same. He wouldn’t ruin your life. I’m not suggesting you fall in love with the guy and marry him. I’m just saying, when was the last time you felt this kind of attraction to a man?”
I shake my head. “It’s not happening. I want to be happy alone, but some meaningless sex would be nice every once in a while. I can’t do that with him. He would suck me into his orbit, and I truly don’t think I would ever recover from sex with Dayton.”
The thought alone makes my entire body overheat. Something about me knows that I couldn’t survive him. He would break me, and I’m already fragile enough right now. I’m getting stronger. I’m healing myself, but it’s a slow process.
“I’m gonna say this because I feel like you’re completely unaware of it, but that man is obsessed with you. He is obsessed. What if he didn’t break you? What if he’s wanted you this whole time?”
“Ugh, no. This isn’t some playground bullying because he likes you bullshit. He actually doesn’t like me. I’ve always known it.”
She shakes her head. “I love you, babe, but sometimes, you’re so blind.”
My hand sweats as he interlaces our fingers.
“You will love the live music here. This guy was in a televised singing competition. He got to the top ten before getting eliminated.”
I look up at the side of his face, trying to convince myself that he is cute and that I do like blonds. He grins at someone, lifting his hand to wave.
“Kyle! Hey, man, what’s up?”
I look toward Kyle to see that he’s another version of my date, Rider. They’re both on the shorter side with surfer hair and wearing T-shirts with the sleeves cut off. The sudden realization that they’re the same type as Axel smacks me in the face. I swallow over a lump in my throat.
It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to date him long term. You’re just here to get laid and forget about the one you really want to do it with.
I’ve finally started admitting to myself that sleeping with Dayton would be highly satisfying, but I’ve stopped myself from fantasizing about it. Which is ultimately why I said yes to this date tonight. I need physical release. To be comfortable during sex, I want someone who doesn’t intimidate me.
Rider pulls me along into the Rusty Anchor. He’s only lived here the last six months, but I get the feeling he parties a lot. We walk up to the bar, and he orders for us both without asking me what I want.
It’s fine.
There’s only one stool available to sit on, and instead of offering it to me, he takes it. I blink at him, shaking my head.
Okay, still fine. Who cares?
The bartender brings the drinks over and gives us separate bills.
Rider looks up at me. “You have cash or a card?”
My mind is buzzing with irritation as I dig into my purse and hand him my card.
The rest of the night goes poorly, so much so that I seriously debate taking an Uber home.
I could walk, but it’s dark and a little far in the shoes I’m wearing.
The one gentlemanly thing Rider did was pick me up.
I’m pretty sure it was because he wanted to be the one to drive me home and hopefully secure an invite inside.
Yeah, no way in hell.
I can overlook a lot, and I have in my life, but paying for my own drink on a first date is where I draw the line.
He doesn’t drink too much, which is a relief, but he mostly talks to his friends and strangers throughout the night. He seems to know a lot of people.
Definitely a partier.
After an hour, he finally looks at me and asks if I’m having a good time.
“I’m kinda tired actually.”
He leans closer. “You want to go home?”
I nod immediately. He finishes off his second drink, leaves a tip for the bartender, and escorts me out. I’m surprised he was willing to leave so quickly, but I’m not complaining.
“Wow, what a lovely night with a lovely lady. We should walk down to the beach by your house.”
I hum, but don’t answer. I will not be inviting him in or down to the beach, but I do want him to drive me home.
He plays the music in his car so loud that we can’t talk.
It’s a rock band I’ve never heard of, but he tells me the lead singer went to his gym when he lived in Los Angeles.
Both of us being from California was originally something I liked that we had in common.
Now I’m just annoyed at how pretentious he sounds.
When we finally get to my house, I exhale a sigh of relief. A headache is forming at the back of my skull.
“Wow, well, that sure was fun. Thanks so much for … inviting me out.”
I turn to smile at him, hoping he gets the hint that I don’t want to walk on the beach.
He’s holding up a bottle of tequila. “I’m going to make you the best margarita you’ve ever had.”
“Oh, wow. That’s okay. You don’t—”
He doesn’t let me finish before getting out of the car, slamming the door shut, and walking toward the house, disappearing through the heavy palm trees and plants lining the path to the backyard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter.
I hurry after him, hopping over a pile of discarded floorboards from the renovation. “Hey, I really had fun tonight. I’m just kind of getting a headache, and I think I need to lie down.”
He’s already at my studio door, but he turns around to face me. “You go right ahead. I can make the drinks while you get comfortable.”
I open my mouth to firmly tell him I want him to leave when the door swings open, revealing a very pissed-off-looking Dayton. My heart jumps into my throat at the sudden intrusion. His expression is hard, eyes narrowed and jaw set.
And he’s shirtless.
I gulp, my mouth drying at the sight of his rippling abs and the V dipping into his gray sweatpants. His biceps are taut, hands braced on the doorframe. He towers over both of us, reminding me just how big he is compared to average-sized guys like Rider, who stands at a modest five foot eleven.
“I didn’t realize you were bringing a guest home, Cupcake.” His words have a clear bite to them.
Rider’s eyes widen as he takes a step back. “Hey, man. I, uh, I didn’t know. I swear.” He raises his hands in a defensive mode, the bottle of tequila in one of them.
Dayton eyes the bottle, reaches out, and takes it. “Go.”
Rider’s mouth drops open as he takes another step back. His eyes jump from Dayton to me, wide with terror. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he’s my stepbrother and I had no idea he would be here tonight, but if this is what it takes to get rid of him, then so be it.
I shrug, stepping into the studio. Dayton lifts his arm to allow me in before slamming the door shut in Rider’s face.
My mouth waters at the visual of his tense back muscles.
He slowly pivots to face me, his eyes darkening when they land on my face.
He’s gripping the tequila bottle so hard that I’m afraid it might shatter.
“Hot date?”