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Pieces of You

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“I don’t have a job anymore. The scholarship doesn’t pay for my cell phone bill.”

He’s pissed.

“Don’t worry about your cell phone. I’ll take care of it.”

Chris knows all my personal information, from social security number all the way down to my fucking panty size. All he has to do is have someone call and pretend to be me so he can pay the bill over the phone. Part of me is pissed that I know what he’s going to do and part of me is grateful that he’s willing to go to such lengths to help me.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Claire. You should know that by now.”

Against everything inside me, I lean over and kiss his cheek before I jump out of the car. My hands are shaking as I hit the unlock button on the key fob. I slide into the driver’s seat and slam my door shut before I allow the first tears to fall.

Chapter Fourteen

Adam

THIS IS MY FIFTH TRIP to Hawaii. The first four trips were packed with exhausting competitions and late nights with plenty of booze and girls. This time is different. My first two days in Hawaii were spent unpacking and grocery shopping for my training diet. My coach, Remmy Dufrense, won’t be here for another three days. I need to keep up my routine until then, but I’m already feeling the urge to toke or down a bottle of vodka.

After what happened last week with Chris, I’m getting a strong feeling that this trip will be the biggest mistake of my life. I’m not imagining things. Claire’s voice sounds different today than it did yesterday morning.

“What did you do yesterday?” I ask as I grab an apple out of the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and bite off a huge chunk.

At least the house the company rented for me in Kekaha is less than a block from the beach and a market with an awesome selection of pokē. I don’t plan on spending much time anywhere else, besides work, for the next two months.

“I studied and went… I went to a concert.”

The word concert and the hesitation in her voice confirms my suspicions.

“Who’d you see?” The long pause on the other end of the line just makes the frustration build inside me, spreading through my arms and down to my fingertips. I have to stop myself from throwing the phone. “Claire?”

“I saw Chris. He asked me to watch a jam session with one of his idols. I went as his friend. You said that was okay.”

She’s not asking if it’s okay; she’s telling me I already said it was okay. I knew this was going to happen, I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

“So you just went to watch?”

“Yes, of course. Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad, just not sure how to feel about it yet. I don’t like the idea of the two of you hanging out.”

“We didn’t really hang out very long. I left once the crowds were gone.”

I want to know every fucking detail about what happened. I want to know if he touched her, even if it was just a friendly hug. But I can hear in the tone of her voice that Claire doesn’t want to be grilled on this.

“Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to ask you a favor.”

I sit down at the writing desk in the living room and lean back in the wooden desk chair. “You can ask me anything, babe.”

“I feel really embarrassed asking you this, but can you pay my cell phone bill? Chris found out my service is about to be cut and I don’t want him to pay it. I’d rather you do it. I should be able to pay you back in a few weeks.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You don’t have to explain and you don’t have to pay me back. I’ll call and pay the bill as soon as we hang up.” Sneaky little fucker. “Thanks for asking. I want you to come to me whenever you need help. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She gives me her account information and I call as soon as we hang up. By the time I hang up with the cell phone company, I’m feeling a little better about the fact that she doesn’t want to depend on Chris, but still uneasy about their proximity to each other. But it’s nothing a long therapy session with the Pacific Ocean can’t cure. I’ll get ready while I wait for my company car to be dropped off.

I change into my bodysuit and I’m about to grab the house key off the hook in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. It must be Sam, the project assistant, with my car.

“Coming!” I yell as I slip the key into my backpack and head for the door.

I pull the door open and I’m a bit confused for a second. I had assumed Sam was a guy, but the brunette standing on my doorstep is definitely not a guy unless she’s clenching her bulge under that peach bikini.

“Adam?” she says as she dangles a car key in front of the screen door. “I have the right house, don’t I?”

“Yeah, I’m Adam.” I open the screen door and hold out my hand for the key. “Are you Sam?”

“Uh, yeah. Were you expecting a guy?” She shakes her head. “You don’t have to answer that. I was just on my way to the sand so I thought I’d drop your car off. I actually picked it up yesterday, but then my aunt came over and made all this food and it was this big thing with all my cousins and….” She looks at me as if she’s just seeing me for the first time. “Oh. I’m blabbing. Sorry. Anyway, I’m just dropping off your car. I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

She’s awkward as hell. Everything from the way she talks to the way she gestures wildly is awkward. She squints at me as I wait for her to leave.

“Are you going surfing?” she asks, as she looks me up and down.

I don’t normally wear my bodysuit to surf unless it’s really early in the morning, which it is. The fact that she doesn’t seem at all embarrassed about showing up at my door at 7:30 a.m. in a bikini just makes this girl even more awkward.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to leave. Thanks for bringing the car.”

I shut the screen door, but she doesn’t leave.

“Can I go with you?” Her brown eyes are wide as she waits for my response. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I was going to walk, but if you’re already going.”

“I’m walking. It’s less than a block away.”

“That’s cool. I can walk with you.”

Fuck. This girl doesn’t take a hint well.

“All right. But I’m going to surf, not to hang out.”

“What does that mean? Is that your subtle way of telling me you’re going to ignore me?” She laughs, a low, snorting chuckle, and I try not to cringe.

She’s definitely good looking, but she’s strange, like a tomboy who doesn’t quite understand the rules of engagement between guys and girls.

“Look, I have a girlfriend.”

“Cool! So do I. Well, not a girlfriend; I have a boyfriend. Well, we’re not really exclusive yet, so it’s not a big deal. Plus, he’s been getting on my nerves lately. He always wants to spend the night at my place.” I stare at her for a moment and she continues, undaunted. “Anyway, you’ll probably meet Kai soon enough. He stalks me at work.”

“I think I’m going to hang out for a little while,” I say as I reach for the doorknob to close the front door. “I have to finish reading the specs for the project before tomorrow. Have fun.”

She pulls her hand out from under her breast before she responds. “That’s cool. I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Don’t bring lunch. I’ll bring something good from home. My aunt has been cooking like crazy all weekend.”

I nod in agreement as I begin to close the door. “See you tomorrow.”

I shut the door quickly and stand in the foyer for a moment confused by how a girl like that, who’s more than a bit ditzy, could get a job as a project assistant on the base. I shake my head as I make my way back to the living room to watch some TV for a few hours, at least until it’s safe to go to the beach without running into Sam. As soon as I sit on the sofa, the doorbell rings again.

I set down the remote on the sofa cushion and jog to the door. When I peer through the peephole, I’m not surprised to see Sam standing on the porch. I open the door and she’s holding out a three-inch stack of mail.

“This was in your mailbox,” she says. “Looks like you forgot to check it.”

Something about this girl tells me she’s desperate for company. “Thanks,” I say as I take the mail. She stands there for a while like she’s expecting me to invite her inside. “You know…. Hold on just a sec while I get my board. I can read the specs later.”

She grins as she nods her head and I can’t decide if she’s prettier when she smiles or when she says something dumb. It doesn’t matter. She’s annoying as fuck and I have a girlfriend.

After I get my board out of the garage, I eyeball the green Toyota sedan in the driveway. Good thing I’m by the beach, because there’s no rack on that car for my board. I meet Sam on the sidewalk, which is when I notice her silver scooter.

She flips her dark, wavy hair over her shoulder before she grabs the handlebars and hops on. “I brought it with me in the trunk of the car. My house is about a half-mile from here. It’s just faster to get there on this.”

I nod as I take off down Panako Road toward the beach. I don’t know if she’s trying to get me to offer her a ride home, but it’s not going to happen.

“So you came from North Carolina?” she asks as she gently pushes the scooter along the sidewalk so she doesn’t pass me by.

“Yeah, Wilmington. You work for Larry?”

Larry Cromwell is the contracting officer on base whose ass my dad French kissed to get us this job. The guy is more of a prick than my dad, judging by the emails he sent me complaining about politics. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to work directly under him like Sam.

“I don’t really work with Larry. I work with Ollie. Ollie protects me from Larry.” She snorts again because apparently this must be funny.

We cross Kahakai Road and soon find ourselves on the beach near Waimea State Park, where she folds up her scooter and tucks it under her arm. The waves should be better further north, but I’m really looking forward to just getting this excursion with Sam over with. Then I’ll come out again tomorrow morning and find a sweet spot.

“So you’re a surfer? Is that why your company sent you?” she asks when we reach the shore.

I stand my board up in the sand and gaze at the glistening ocean. The sun is rising behind us, barely warming my back, and I breathe a sigh of relief at the sight before me. The glimmer of sunlight painted across the surface of the water puts me at ease. This is where I’m meant to be.

“My dad sent me to handle the project startup,” I reply. “I’ll only be here for eight weeks, but, yeah, I have a competition lined up while I’m here.”

“Sweet.” She drops her scooter onto the sand. “I surf too, but that car doesn’t have a rack so I couldn’t bring my board. You’re lucky you live within walking distance of the beach.”

She takes off running into the water without another word. I’m just thankful she didn’t challenge me to a race or some other corny shit. I’m even more pleased when she allows me to surf in peace. She swims out to a buoy that looks to be about a quarter-mile offshore then back. When she reaches the shore, she collapses and lies on her towel for about an hour before she comes back into the water.

After two hours of my sad attempts to catch some weak waves, I finally give up. But as soon as I start to leave the water, she follows after me. I trudge across the sand, refusing to look at her as she jogs toward the place where she dropped her scooter a few yards away. She snatches it up and quickly catches up with me.

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