Frayed

Huffing and puffing, he continues his count and I head for the door, my muscles still tight and tensed, not in the least bit relieved from running.

“Don’t be pissed,” he calls to me. “I’m just looking out for you. Maybe she’s getting it elsewhere.”

I shove my middle finger up in the air as I enter the locker room of the small gym on Plan B’s floor. His comment cuts deep. It’s been a few weeks since I found out she’d be working with Romeo Fairchild. I’ve brought him up a couple of times since then and all she talks about is how well the wedding planning is going. I know him, though. He was a snake in high school and I have no doubt he still is. The thought of him alone with her drives me f**king crazy. Then there’s that ass**le boss of hers calling her night and day. Maybe she was all about the fun we were having and when I said no to any more role-playing—to f**king in public places—she just wasn’t interested in me and this friends thing was really her way of trying to get rid of me, not trying to get to know me.

Just as I’m changing into a clean shirt, my phone beeps—a text from S’belle.

You’re not going to believe this. Xander’s going to propose to Ivy the night of her release party. I’m so excited but have to add some special touches to the event now. One week! I can’t wait.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I don’t respond. I’ve seen S’belle almost every night this week. We’ve texted and talked on the phone more than I’ve ever done with anyone, in fact, more than I’ve probably done in my lifetime. Our conversations have been deep at times and lighter at others. She hasn’t laxed on her friendship guidelines, yet my attraction toward her has steadily grown. The quirky, funny things she says get me in the gut and do strange things to me. But Kale hit a sore spot. The whole “friends” dating thing is growing tiresome. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed getting to know her and having someone to talk to, but I think Kale might be right. I respond with a quick note.

Great news. Hey, I’m going to have to cancel tonight. Something came up at work.

Her response is immediate.

Okay. Hope everything is all right. Call me later.

I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my shit, and head back to my office. Once I’m there I drop it all on my desk and pace to the window. Plan B headquarters is located in the Jamboree Business Center in Irvine, a quick hop on the freeway from Laguna. It’s also a fast drive to LA.

I can see the calm Pacific framed in the distance through my large window and long to be out there, but I have work to do. I think about all I have to accomplish before the announcement of my takeovers is made public. Surfer’s End’s migration to this building is finally happening this week, and I am so f**king happy—the transition has been a nightmare. Their offices will occupy the floor below me, whereas Sound Music occupies the one above. Both publications should be ready to upload their online issues early next week. And I just need to hire a few more people and we will be hitting the modern world of technology with a boom.

In order to concentrate on work, I have to avert my eyes from the California view. Just as I head toward my phone to text her again, there’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I call.

The door opens and Kale stands there. “Just checking on you. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

As soon as I sit down my speakerphone buzzes. I raise a finger and answer it. “Yeah, Beck?”

“I need to go over this budget with you. Is now okay?”

“Sure.”

“On my way.”

I glance back over to Kale. “I’m not pissed, man. I think you might be onto something. I may have become her ‘girlfriend’ as hard as that is for me to say.”

“What do you say to grabbing a beer tonight?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

Before I can finish asking where, Beck is standing behind him.

Kale turns. “Hey, how’s it going today?”

“Better than yesterday,” Beck responds.

Kale grins. “Always good. Catch you both later. I’ll stop by before I leave.”

“You’re not going out tonight, are you?” Beck asks me.

My eyes cut to his. “I can go out for a beer on a Friday night. I’m not an alcoholic.”

“Ben, why would you do that now? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it that girl you’re into? The one you like?”

“I never said I like her. I’m not fifteen.”

“You don’t have to say you like someone for it to be apparent that you’re interested.”

“You know what, Beck, no offense, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

He raises his hands. “Look, man, not trying to get in your business. I’m just looking out for you.”

Sighing, I slouch over, resting my forearms on my thighs. “Yeah, I know. I appreciate it. How about you show me what you’ve got?”

He hands me a stack of papers—Beck’s budget seems doable. “Looks great, man,” I say after a quick perusal.

He nods. “I’ll leave them with you. I’m heading out for the day.”

“Thanks. And see ya.”

I swivel in my chair and decide to look over the Sound Music budget Aerie gave me yesterday. Time flies as I spend the rest of the day analyzing it.

There’s a light tap on my door before it opens.

“Ready to go grab that beer, mate?” Kale asks.

I glance at the clock on my desk. “Fuck, it’s already seven?”

“Yeah, it is. What, did the day get away from you?”

“It did. I think I’m going to pass tonight. I want to finish this budget shit up and be done with it.”

“No worries. Take care and call if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, man. I will.” But I know I won’t. Beck is right. I don’t need to fall back into that scene again.

• • •

It’s not quite six a.m. and I’m feeling restless, staring out in the darkness of my room. I pull out my journal to record my thoughts, but I can’t get them down because I don’t know what they are. I’ve never been at a loss for words before—but today I am. After an hour or so I toss my journal aside and decide to go on a run.

By the time I hit the main road, the sun has already risen. I slow down and make my way through town and to the corner coffee shop. Grabbing a paper and a cup of coffee, I sit outside under one of the umbrella tables and catch up on the news. Once I’ve scoured the paper I decide to people-watch. I haven’t done that in a long time. Time slips away from me and when I glance at my phone it’s almost eleven.

Tossing my shit in the trash, I take the beach path home. When I pass the little run-down surf shack, I decide to stop in. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but what Noel has done with the inside is f**king amazing. Blondie’s, the shop that used to belong to my dad, always feels like home away from home to me. My father named his business after his pet name for my mother, but back then it was no small operation. I don’t remember coming here before Noel bought it, but I know my father not only sold boards of every size and design, but also owned a fleet of boats that he chartered, along with any and every apparatus made for the sea. Sadly, it was his thirst to try out everything and anything new under the sun that killed him. My sister and I had recently discovered that his death resulted from taking a new sailboat out alone—the police reports said his death was due to a piece of malfunctioning equipment that hanged him by the ropes. My mother never told us what happened to him.

My sister thinks it was because she didn’t want us to picture him that way; I’m not so sure. She also never told us she had been awarded ten million dollars as a wrongful death settlement. Again, I don’t think it’s for the reason my sister believes. I shake my dark thoughts away. Inheriting that money hasn’t changed me at all, but it has given me direction. It’s given me the ability to do something I never would have been able to do without it—start my own business.

Taking one step at a time, I glance around the outside of the shack. It looks the same as always—wind chimes everywhere, peeling green paint, a weathered roof that needs replacing, a ramp that has long since collapsed. I walk in and as usual my head circles the perimeter. Surfboards line the arched ceiling, covering every inch of it.

“Just a f**king brilliant way to expand the merchandise,” I say to Noel. I say it every time I walk in because I’m so impressed.

He beams from behind the counter. “Hey, Benny boy. What brings you by?”

Noel’s an out-of-shape, middle-aged man who at one time was the undisputed ASP World Champion. My dad was also a member of the Association of Surfing Professionals and that’s how they met. Noel bought the shop from my dad’s business partner a few years after my dad died, and he’s run it ever since.

“Just out for a run and passing by.”

“Sure you’re not checking on your board?”

“Ha, you caught me,” I joke. “I’ve got a car now, so I won’t have to leave her here much longer. I just have to have a rack put on.”

“She’s not bothering me. At least I know you’ll be stopping by once in a while with her here.”

“Noel, come on, man. I stop by as much as I can.”

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” He scrubs his beard. “Something tells me you’re chasing tail.”

I shake my head. “I never chase anything but a wave. You know that.”

He looks at me with sincerity in his eyes. “Sometimes you have to chase what you really want because everything in life worth having won’t fall into your lap.”

“You’re awful philosophical for this early in the day.”

“I always think clearer before five.” He laughs.

The ding of the door alerts us to a customer.

“Hey, I gotta run but I’ll be by soon.”

He moves forward to hug me. “It was good to see you, Benny.”

I hug him back. “You too, Noel. Tell Faith hello for me.”

He nods. “Will do. She’ll be sorry she missed you.”

His attention is diverted to the dude checking out the boards overhead and I slip out, deciding to take it easy and walk the rest of the way home rather than run. My phone vibrates and I stop, pulling it from my sock. In my rush this morning to escape the silence, I left the house with no earphones and no armband. It’s a message from S’belle. I have to squint to read it since I forgot my sunglasses as well.

Is everything okay?

Three little words and my heart falls in my chest. Am I wrong about the sexual pull I thought we both recognized? Am I just her friend and along for a ride going nowhere? I drop in the sand and scroll through our messages over the last few weeks. I stop on one from when I asked her to go to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery Screening with me. She had said yes. She always says yes. She was a little startled at the thought at first, but once I assured her it would be a blast, her anxiety eased. I told her I’d pick her up and as I read her response now, I can’t help laughing.

I’m more than capable of driving in the dark and I didn’t invite you over to get me anyway.

That night I met her in the front of the cemetery. She was late and I paced the sidewalk. When she finally arrived, she seemed exasperated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, scrutinizing her demeanor.

She frowned. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Tate needed to review next month’s wedding schedule and had a bit of a meltdown over everything still left to do.”

“Wyatt is an ass**le.”

She stared at me with something in her eyes I couldn’t quite figure out. “He can be.”