Chapter 20 #2
“But your fath-”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I hung up and went in search of the others. I finally found Hazel at the end of the aisle, scanning dozens of ice cream options. From the look on her face, she was having trouble deciding.
“Too many choices?” I teased her. Hazel smiled and grunted to herself.
“I usually get vanilla, but I feel adventurous today,” she said with a mischievous look on her face.
“Close your eyes. First one that comes to mind?” Her eyes fell shut. Seconds passed, but she stayed quiet. “C’mon, girl, snap decision.”
“Chocolate with cherries.”
“Oh, fancy,” I said, and she stuck out her tongue mockingly.
It was funny and oddly erotic. Tossing the ice cream in her basket, she marched off, pretending to ignore me.
I caught up, grinning, my previous tension nowhere to be found.
I also noticed a couple of dented soda cans in her cart, but I let it slide.
Hazel then stopped at the fresh food section to pick out some fruits.
I stepped on the other side of the section, watching her closely.
She examined each fruit carefully, but what struck me as odd was that she kept picking the bruised ones instead of the normal ones.
I glanced at her cart once more, and then it hit me.
“Oh. My. God. Hazel Ridley,” I said, amazed and stunned at once. Hazel looked at me, confused. “You feel sorry for the fruit,” I declared, piecing the clues together.
“What?” she laughed dismissively, still inspecting the melon she was holding.
“You do, don’t you?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“The weird-shaped apples at home, dented cans,” I pointed at them in her cart, “the bruised fruit—you pick them on purpose.”
She pursed her lips as if annoyed. “They’re perfectly good products, and people avoid them like the plague. I just feel bad seeing them go to waste, so I choose them.”
“That’s the definition of ‘feeling sorry for something’,” I pointed out to her, teasing her again. I liked to do that a lot lately.
She lifted her gaze and looked me dead in the eyes. Without saying a word, she approached me dangerously close. The blue shades dancing in her eyes like sea glass made me feel like I was underwater, and I’d only be allowed to breathe when she gave me permission to resurface.
“Do you have a problem,” she asked slowly, challenging me, “with me and my fruit?” Her voice serious, but extremely arousing. I got lost in the mix of her scent and the intoxicating look she was giving me. I smiled, slightly pleased with myself for getting that side out of her.
“No, not at all.”
“Good,” Hazel said, clearly satisfied. She turned just enough for her braided hair to brush against my face, adding to her schoolgirl charm, and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly to myself.
Five minutes later, we were back on the road.
I was behind the wheel, and Hazel sat beside me, soaking up the sun in her jean shorts and oversized white button-up shirt.
The navy blue of her bathing suit peeked out, hinting at cleavage that had no permission to exist in this car.
We were in the front seats, in full view of everyone, but I found myself wishing I could keep my eyes on her instead of the road ahead.
“What’s that?” Hazel suddenly leaned forward. I followed her gaze and saw a group of people gathered at the edge of a cliff. We pulled over to the side of the road as loud music blared from somewhere. They all rushed to the edge while I lingered behind.
“There’s a party,” Ava exclaimed.
“Cool, let’s go,” I said, dismissing it.
“That’s the same beach we’re going to. Another five miles ahead,” Logan added. I didn’t really care. Hazel, however, was talking to the locals, and I was fighting the urge to go over there.
“What are those guys doing?” Norah asked, watching the locals checking something over the edge.
“Cliff-jumping,” Hazel yelled, running back toward us. “I’m gonna do it.”
“No, you’re not,” I laughed. Because, clearly, she was joking.
“Yeah, I talked to the guys. They do it all the time. It’s safe,” she said, explaining casually like it was a new route to work. Adrenaline started to surge through my body.
The hell she is.
“Are you crazy? Besides, how are you gonna get back up?” I asked, trying to reason with her.
“It’s gonna be fine. They jump and then swim to the beach next to it, where we’re going anyway. I’ll just leave my stuff in the car.”
Hazel started undressing, revealing her swimsuit and gorgeous legs. The other jumpers cheered, seeing her ready to join them. Ugh.
“Anybody else want to jump with me?” she asked.
Nobody accepted her offer, and she just shrugged her shoulders.
“Hazel, you can’t be serious,” I tried to discourage her, still keeping my distance from the ledge. “You’ve never done it; it’s dangerous; you’ve never been here; you’re putting faith into strangers. Plus, it’s—,” I glanced over the edge, “—really high.”
She shot me a teasing smile. “You’re just mad that your inner salesman ego can’t convince me not to.”
I glared back with an irritated look, but then averted my gaze, rolling my jaw. She knew she’d struck a nerve.
“So jump with me,” she said with a slow smile.
Apparently, my sweet, clueless Hazel didn’t know me that well. There was no way I was going to jump. But she wasn’t jumping alone either. I just didn’t know yet which statement would overthrow the other.
She glanced at me with big, round puppy eyes. Silly girl.
“Nice touch. Not gonna work,” I mocked. Then suddenly her expression changed.
She swiftly put her braid in a bun, tightening it with her blue ribbon, put her hands on her hips, and closed the distance between us.
Slowly. The air grew heavy, and I was waiting for her master plan.
What could she possibly think would convince me to jump?
Her eyes held mine as she leaned in and whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Pussy.”
I saw my face darken in the reflection of her eyes. It was the million reasons not to do something.
“What was it? We only live once, right?” She smiled wickedly at me.
How dare she throw my own words at me?
Hazel was so close I could count the beats of her heart in the vein at her neck.
And the fact that there were a bunch of people around us was the only thing that saved her from me right now.
She raised her chin, challenging me, and I dropped my gaze to her lips.
My breathing grew heavier. Hazel was standing her ground, testing me. I felt my palms mold into fists.
Before I even spoke, I already knew—she had gotten what she wanted.
“Oh, it’s on, sweetie.” A grin bigger than the sun slowly appeared on her face, and I decided that the smile I just saw was worth the possible death awaiting. I ripped off my shirt, eyes on her.
The sweet Hazel, finally showing her claws.
She provoked me and made me proud at the same time.
My friends were oohing, knowing what Hazel had accomplished here.
I was a tough nut; not everybody could convince me to do things without giving a good argument.
I just couldn’t have known that the best argument from her would be childish and mostly nonverbal.
Goddammit, Hazel, you tiny, little genius.
I went to the edge one more time and looked down.
“How high is it?” Alex asked.
“About 50 feet,” Hazel said, and I swallowed a gulp. My palms started to sweat.
“We’ll meet you at the beach,” Summer said.
I stepped back several feet, and Hazel stood beside me. “Ready?” she casually asked, but I saw in her eyes that she did care.
I was terrified, but she offered her hand, which I gladly took, pushing my fear away. I gently caressed her thumb, and she squeezed mine in return.
“Ready.”
When I opened my eyes, we started to run, hand in hand, and a second later, we were free-falling into the abyss.
One... two... three... each second stretched endlessly.
There was nothing but silence, and Hazel’s hand clasped in mine.
Then came the crash of water, and she was gone.
Everything went still. It felt like forever before I broke the surface, gasping, my head snapping around frantically as I searched for her.
Finally, she resurfaced, wiping her face from the water, utterly happy. My heart was racing. That was a hell of a high drop. I looked up and saw the local people checking if we were okay. Hazel gave them a thumbs up and turned to me.
“You okay?” she asked.
Both of us started to gravitate closer to each other.
“Never been better. Piece of cake,” I said with a teasing smile, breathing heavily.
“Mid-fall, I started to feel guilty for pushing you,” she confessed, dangerously close to me. Again. Too many times in the last 24 hours.
“I like it when you push me.” I sank deeper, chin grazing the surface of the water, our bodies so close to each other now, yet still not touching. It would be all over for me. Right then and there. Her eyes dropped to my mouth now, and my blood started to boil.
After a painfully silent minute, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and let her body drift, slowly paddling toward the shore.
Water had once again brought us together, and once again it was in the water that she slipped away through my fingers.
* * *
We sat on the beach, with house music playing loudly. It was a crowded beach club, but we found a quieter spot—still part of the party, but calm enough to talk. It was a warm day, and people were enjoying themselves.
“See, I don’t get all these fancy schmancy girly drinks. Pink Panty Dropper, Buttery Nipple, Sex on the Beach—too complicated for me,” Ethan said.
“Well, that’s good to know,” Summer muttered.
“You know what I mean. What’s Rhubarb Slut? What’s a rhubarb? How do you even spell rhubarb?”
“It’s a vegetable, like celery, but sour. They usually add sugar when preparing it. It’s really good,” Hazel said. Ethan’s face stayed confused. “R.h.u.b.a.r.b.”