Page 68 of The Time It Takes
Nothing about my brother felt complicated, though. I was devastated and I didn’t know what to do or what to say that would make it all right. I felt as if I’d been thrown into the deep end with a block of cement tied to my feet.
My eyes scanned the rows of surfers on the water—Scott and Liam among them. Aside from their constant side remarks, it’d been a peaceful day. The two dickheads were always trying to get into someone’s head.
Whereas we surfed for fun, they were both in the competitive sport. They were insanely good, but still, it wasn’t a solid reason to be an ass.
A racy wave came running toward us and I watched as Dean rushed toward it. He paddled fast on his bright orange board. He was a swift breeze in his dark blue bodysuit. He was probably the quickest out of all of us, which was why we all hung back for this one. He always preferred speed.
I, on the other hand, was a bit more dramatic. I liked when there was a chance of a wave swallowing me whole. The bigger the barrel the better.
More waves came and I let my friends take them. Each time I dipped below the surface and waited.
“Always waiting for something better,” Oliver called out as he paddled up to my side. I could hear the smile in his voice when he added, “You’ll be waiting forever. Doesn’t look like we’re getting any bombs today.”
I ran my hands over the surface, communicating with the sea in my own insane way. “I have time,” I told him coolly.
He chuckled lightly and I looked over at him then. He shook out his blond wavy wet hair. He looked wild in that state. It was the kind of wild that forced your worries back to the shore, knowing they couldn’t touch you from out here. He looked so at peace at that moment that I felt intoxicated just looking at him. It was contagious.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
His eyes locked with mine and my whole world rocked. His eyelashes held droplets of the sea. He was a masterpiece. He was so damn beautiful it was a sin. Every thought I had of him was becoming just as sinful these days.
He’s your best friend. Get. It. Together.
Oliver pressed his hand over his heart. “Never.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile spreading on my face. Then his smile mimicked mine—dimples.
I groaned at the sight of them. “I hate your face.”
His smile widened. “No, you don’t. You love my face.”
He was right. I did love his face. I loved it so much that it hurt sometimes.
“Either way, it’s hard to look at,” I joked. But seriously.
His smirk didn’t falter, and it only annoyed me more. “I love your face too, Damsel.”
I didn’t have time to respond because he was already paddling away. He charged the growing wave and I let myself admire him. The wave was heavy, but Oliver was a master. He made the water his pawn and he was clever with every move he made. He was breathtaking to watch in action. I watched closely as he dropped into the wave, his gray suit giving his movements just as much fluid as the sea itself.
He cut back slightly, to ride inside the barrel. I couldn’t see anything until he came out on the other end as the wave died out. He jerked his board toward the wave’s lip and did a three-sixty. My heart lurched with urgency, but he landed it smoothly.
“Show off,” I muttered to myself.
I could hear Ben yelling from the shore, and I watched as Oliver joined my brother and our friends back on the beach.
I was wearing a white suit today, which made me stick out like a sore thumb. When I looked to my left, I found Scott watching me. I went to look away, but he caught my attention by speaking.
“Having an off day?” he yelled out, his muffled voice carrying over to me in the wind as he made his way closer to me. “Almost mistook you for a grom.”
“Oh please,” I yelled out to him with a smirk. “If you’re trying to get inside my head, good luck. What’d you place last year?” I asked, already knowing. He had missed first place by a couple of points. He did a great job, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try to get under his skin a little.
His silence made me grin. My dad’s words echoed in my mind as I said them. “You can be the best surfer in the world, but the best doesn’t always win.”
“Oh yeah?” he challenged smugly, fixing his demeanor back in place. “And what does?”
“Patience,” I told him confidently.
His head tilted. “Let me guess, you’ve got some?”
