Ahead in the Heat (18 page)

S
ean could become Annie’s everything.

Because she loved him.

Her chest worked on a sob, but she held back from making a sound through sheer will. She fisted her hands in the sheet. This was not the time, not the place, not the moment that she’d want to throw herself into an abyss. The trust she’d need . . . She didn’t have it. Not really. Real love meant fully giving yourself over, and neither she nor Sean had done that.

The image of him in the restaurant, throwing out words like dares, flashed before her eyes. That wasn’t trust. That was pretty much the opposite.

No one had told her body how little Sean trusted her. He fucked her deeply, and the pleasure gathered deep in her belly. Every thrust ground her clit against the slick cotton of his pants. There was more pressure within her. Pushing back and taking more.

She exploded, breaking apart in shards of pleasure that slipped through her body like razors. Quick and painful and amazing all at once. There was little more than pure
feeling
. Her knees gave out, but he held her up. Even while he grunted with his own orgasm and held her near. He carried her weight balanced in his hands.

He carried her heart in his hands. And he didn’t trust her.

Annie was panting when she dropped to the mattress. Her thighs were shaky with the force that had just swept through her. She scrunched her eyes closed and pressed her face to the mattress. One hand fisted next to her head.

She was Annie Baxter, and she reached for what she deserved. With or without Sean Westin.

Her brain wouldn’t work fast enough to let her pull away, and he’d hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her down so they’d collapsed together. Her head came to rest on the curve of his shoulder into his biceps, a place that normally felt like it had been crafted for her. Now it felt like glass and barbwire.

She’d wound her fingers in the placket of his Armani shirt. This could be the last time she touched him. The tumult inside her was frightening. She didn’t know how to put the pieces together.

There was no way to balance the man who’d tried to push her away with the man she’d fallen in love with.

Love. Jesus, it was nearly laughable.

The night air purred with the continuous wash of waves, steps from their bungalow. The open windows and thatched roof only kept out her view of the stars, but that was almost too much. The sparkle would be too much when there were tears in her eyes.

He swallowed, and she could hear the sound from the way her ear was pressed against his chest. “Teenage arsonists usually become serial killers.”

She made a sound halfway between laughter and shock. “You did not just compare yourself to Dexter, did you?”

“It’s not unheard of.” He chuckled, though the sound was awful to her. “And I don’t mean I’m worried that I’m going to reach over and break your neck—”

“Oh, I’m so glad of that,” she interrupted dryly.

“But it’s just that I’ve always worried that I was . . . I dunno. A little off. That I could do that. And I sat on the curb and waited for the fire department without crying, or freaking out even a little bit. It was just . . . a thing.”

“You’re not a closet sociopath, Sean. The fact that you would worry about that proves the very opposite. It was a thing you needed to do. Frankly, I don’t think you should have been left alone, for any reason.” She pushed up to a seated position. It was easier when he stayed lying down. Her head bowed. She didn’t want to see his face when she continued on. This was going to be bad enough. Her throat squeezed tight. “You were a broken little boy and you lashed out.
That
was only a little bit your fault.”

“
That
was only a little my fault,” he echoed, putting emphasis on the first word as he pushed up on his elbows. “So . . . what
is
my fault?”

She sighed and finally looked at him. He hissed in a sharp breath when their gazes connected. Maybe she wasn’t covering everything up as well as she thought. He lifted a hand to the side of her face, trying to cup her jaw.

But she flinched away.

“Annie?” Her name was a question and something more at the same time.

“We should just let this go. You’ve got a really big few days coming up, and we’re here on the far side of the world.” She raked her fingers through her hair, trying to convince herself. It didn’t have to all explode now, did it? Wrecking their perfect fantasy world? “It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll
be
fine,” he repeated. “So it’s not fine now.”

“Fucking hell, Sean.” She snapped, her mouth running away with her. “You really think you can pull bullshit like that and have everything be fine?”

“I knew it,” he snarled. He dropped flat to the bed, looking a little like a child avoiding an argument.

“Oh bullshit.” The bed shifted as she twisted around. She couldn’t hear the rush of the waves past the roar in her ears. She stood and went to her suitcase, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Sean buttoned up the clothing he’d never taken off, and instantly it was as if they’d never been. “I bet a thousand bucks that you’re sitting there, assuring yourself that my problem concerns what you did ten years ago. And it does
not
.”

“It sure does seem like it. The timing’s right.” He was flat as a glassy ocean. No waves, no ups, no downs. Everything pulled away in that glossy face he put on for strangers. His rolled-up sleeves displayed his strength when he crossed his arms over
his chest. “If it’s not what I did after my mom died, then what is it? Say it, Annie.”

“Fine.” She wrapped her arms around her narrow stomach. Held herself tight. Her insides felt like they were about to spill over the floor, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. “It’s the timing. You were pissed at yourself because you wiped out today. So you basically threw a shit fit all over me. You told me your sob story so you wouldn’t have to face anything real.”

“I did not,” he snarled. When she stayed silent, he stalked toward the switch and flipped it on, flooding their room with light. “I didn’t, Annie.”

“You did.” On some odd level she recognized that she was smiling, but her cheeks were tight and her teeth felt like they could grind lava rock into dust. “It was completely on purpose.”

“It was not!” Except his protests seemed almost
too
vehement.

“Tell me that you weren’t upset this afternoon. I dare you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be upset? I fucking screwed up a wave that I should have nailed.” He threw a hand out to the side, pointing toward the roaring waves at their back door. “I cannot afford to screw up when my qualification for the World Championship Tour is on the line. I’ve missed two events. I need these points. I need to win. Do you know how many times I’ve surfed Cloudbreak before?”

She stood ramrod straight, her hands fisting at her side. “You. How many times you’ve surfed. You need to win.” Her chin jerked back. “How many times have
I
been to Fiji before, Sean?”

“Never. You’ve never been here.” His eyes narrowed, and he came a step toward her. “Why didn’t you make it to Fiji, Annie? Why did you quit surfing? How
could
you quit?”

Her shoulders went up in a tight shrug. “You know, you’ve never asked me why before.”

“I thought you’d talk about it if you wanted to. Because I didn’t want to . . .” He trailed off. He hadn’t meant to say that, it seemed, because his mouth flattened and his cheeks hollowed.

But the pieces were finally falling together. “Because you didn’t want to talk about
your
secrets. Exactly.”

“Why didn’t you go pro, Annie?”

She was tempted to tell him it was too little too late, but there was no real point in that. Her hands tightened in their fists. “I was dating my sponsor rep.”

“They’re not supposed to do that.”

“I know. But I was eighteen and he was twenty-three, and that seemed so damn cool, like he had all his shit together.” God, she’d been so very, very wrong. “Two weeks after I graduated high school, the ASP event was in Trestles. So he drove me up for a party.”

He shook his head, his expression going dark. “Ten years ago? Things weren’t very pretty.”

“Nope. Wasn’t pretty at all when he made it super clear that if I didn’t put out for one of the big stars, then I should at least put out for him. That was ‘the way it worked’ and I should get on board if I really wanted a career.” He’d looked so good and clean and talked so reasonably as they’d sat on the back
porch of the party. The waves she’d always relied on had droned on in the background. “I asked him to take me home, but he still didn’t get it. He drove down a back road and said he’d give me one more chance. He started . . . He tried to hurt me. I had to take care of myself. I’ve
always
had to take care of myself.”

“You’re incredibly strong.”

She shook her head, both hands going to her hair. Her fingers twined. “But don’t you get it? I shouldn’t have to defend myself. This whole fucking world is skewed, and I think you’re one of the worst victims, Sean.”

He flinched away from her. His shoulders folded as if he’d pull in on himself if he could. “What the hell? I’m no victim. I haven’t been for a long fucking time, and I never will be again.”

“I get that. I do.” The air had been sucked out of her. She could barely breathe anymore, not through the rasping sting that her throat had become.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask why you’d chosen school. That was an oversight.”

Her heart withered. The pain spread through her, making her want to be sick. One-way love was a horrible thing. “I want to be something more than an oversight.”

“You are, Annie.” He crossed the room in a few steps. They had been too far apart, but when he held her shoulders, she could barely feel his touch. Lowering his head, he pressed their foreheads together. “You’re important to me. I . . . Jesus, Annie, I love you.”

A soft sound wrenched from her. She put her
hands on either side of his face. Compared to the chill in her fingertips, his skin was flames. “You want to love me. Maybe you could someday. But I don’t think you do now.”

“You don’t get to say what I feel.”

“You don’t get to say
I love you
as a weapon.”

He kept his eyes closed. She didn’t, though. She watched his mouth, waited to see what he’d say. Even though she wanted words to fix all this, she couldn’t imagine what possible solution there could be.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly. And it wasn’t enough.

“I can’t be near you right now.” Her voice shook, after all her talk of strength. She still couldn’t stop the tears that welled, though. They fell and caught on his thumbs. He swept moisture over her cheeks. It felt like rubbing the pain into her skin.

“I’ll go stay with someone. I know . . .” He gave a helpless noise, something just shy of a laugh. “I know everyone. And no one. No one knows me like you do, Annie.”

“I’m sorry for that, Sean.”

It didn’t take him long to pack a bag. From the bed, Annie watched him go. She sat in a tight little knot, her arms wrapped around her lifted knees. Her cheeks felt heavy, and it probably didn’t help the situation that she kept staring at him. She wanted him to be better. She wanted to be better herself. No, that wasn’t right. She just wanted them to
fit
better. But it felt like their messed-up parts hit at just the wrong angles.

He stopped in the doorway. “Will you stay in Fiji at least?”

Her nod made his blazing eyes lighten. But then she added, “But you won’t see me, Sean. Not if I can help it.”

A
nnie stayed away from alcohol at the post-Pro party. It was strange enough to be there. Her hands were shaking and her stomach was a twisting mess. Adding alcohol to the mix seemed like a really poor choice.

Especially since she was standing in the middle of a party thrown to celebrate Sean’s victory.

He’d won the whole fucking event. First place. Everything he could have dreamed of.

He’d stomped through each round like a man on a mission. Annie had watched from the bar at the resort, since piping a live feed into the big-screen TVs was better than having a half dozen boats out at the break just so people could watch. He’d relied on classic moves and getting perfectly barreled. He’d made the first perfect ten of the event on the second round by dropping into a wave and letting it close into a barrel so large that he’d lifted his hands full length and barely skimmed the water above his head.

He’d been amazing.

The final round had been against Nate, and despite the other man getting his own ten-point wave, Sean had beaten him by three points, which was
considered a wide margin when the highest possible score was only twenty.

He must be on top of the world.

And Annie was in hell.

She had her hands clenched around a Coke as she stood near the bar. The resort had set up an open-air party room of sorts. A thatched roof was held up by the occasional wooden beam support. The sides were completely open to the setting sun. At one end, they’d set up a bar manned by three bartenders, and trough-sized buckets were filled with ice and beer at points around the room.

The whole event had been sponsored by Coyote. This was Sean’s gig. Any moment, he’d walk in like a triumphant king.

Annie should back away. She should leave. Just like she shouldn’t have watched every second of the last five days of competition. She could have gone home instead of giving in to compulsions.

But her other choice was retreating to the
bure
they’d briefly shared. The bungalow was too big for only her, and too fancy. She’d tried surfing on her own too. The resort had a beach break that was a hundred yards of beautiful but not-too-intimidating points. She’d gone out two afternoons in a row with a board she’d rented from the resort; touching the short boards that Sean had left behind in the
bure
would have been like licking poison. The idea made her heart and her stomach clench.

Surfing hadn’t been the same without him. Being in the bungalow hadn’t been the same without him.

Fucking hell,
breathing
hadn’t been the same without him.

That didn’t mean she hadn’t been right.

Commotion at the other end of the oversized cabana made Annie jump. Her heart took up residence somewhere around her ears, apparently figuring her throat just wasn’t dramatic enough. She tried to calm herself with long, slow breaths, but it didn’t work. She had no way to ground herself. She floated in a paradise that was more like hell.

Sean had arrived.

He was surrounded by a knot of admirers. The playboy was back in full force. He already had a blonde and a brunette on each side, though they were flanked by managers and event coordinators in turn. Sean lifted one hand in a fist above the shoulder that could have taken him out all together, and the crowd roared. They loved him. He was the hero of the moment.

Her heart was a crumpled, crumbled disaster zone.

She was such a fucking idiot.

Turning away from the triumphant scene at the other end of the room, she pressed her fingertips to her eyes. Her sockets burned. Her neck felt so tight, it ached.

He didn’t even miss her, and how fucking juvenile a thought was that? She tugged the hem of her T-shirt. It wasn’t that she wished he’d have lost or anything like that. He’d been the best. He’d
deserved
to win. But the tiny, petty, childish part of her wanted him to
miss
her while he won. He hadn’t even looked for her across the crowd. He’d just had on his front, the shiny happy kind of look that made it seem like everything was fine.

Well, for all she knew, everything
was
fine with him.

“It’s a swizz, ain’t it?” Gloria sidled up next to Annie, leaning one arm on the bar. Her gaze was trained over Annie’s shoulder, though, toward where the cheers in the room started. “He’s not half of what he’s cracked up to be.”

“What?” Annie rubbed the dip of her temple, where the burn in her eyes had traveled and twisted itself into pain. If she wouldn’t let herself cry in public, her body seemed determined to give her a headache instead.

“Sean.” Gloria had the stem of a cherry and worried it between thumb and forefinger, making it spin and spin. She nibbled the knot at the end. “He’s decent, that’s true. But there’s no fucking way he’s better than my Nate.”

“There’re five judges. It’s not possible to cheat.” Annie narrowed her eyes at Gloria.

“Not that way.” She was a bundle of cynicism. She lifted her brows and cocked her hip. “You think Sean’s perfect? I thought you’d have figured out the truth. Everyone knows he’s been staying with the junior Coyote team. The very idea of Sean bunking with nineteen-year-old kids who’re practically frat boys . . .” Gloria snickered. “It’s been kind of a pick-me-up the last few days.”

“Sean and I hit a rough spot.” She took a sip of her soda, but it didn’t do anything to wash the nasty taste from her mouth. Gloria was quite the piece of work, but Annie hadn’t realized exactly how bitter she was. “What’s that got to do with his surfing?”

“Apparently nothing.” Gloria gave her a faux-innocent smile. “But then, considering where he’s come from . . . what he’s risen above . . . he’s no stranger to adversity.”

Annie’s spine became something made of wire and blades and knives. “What are you implying?”

Gloria laughed. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. I already know. Or did he not tell you that we dated?”

“He mentioned it.” She looked at the taller woman. “But he also said you couldn’t take a hint when things were done.” He hadn’t said anything of the sort, but Gloria didn’t have to know that.

“Whatever. He liked me well enough at the time, and Nate’s moving up in the rankings.” Gloria edged closer, her body language closing them off from the rest of the room. Annie wanted to step back, but there was a chair behind her and she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was freaking out. The air was leaking out of the open room. “Look, everyone knows you’ve split. And I know there’s something going on with Sean. If you give me any kind of information, I can pass it on to the people who need to know.”

“What the hell?” Annie shook her head, leaning back as far as she could. She needed air that was scented with the salt of the ocean, not Gloria’s light but cloying perfume. “There isn’t any information to give.”

“Why would you defend him?” Gloria’s voice hit a near screech, but she pulled it down again, taking deep breaths to get herself under control. “Look, maybe you just don’t know. I’ve followed this sport for years. Practically my whole life. I know Sean’s hiding something major. He was when we dated, and he still is now.”

“So you think you have a right to know? You’re the one who’s been talking to Ackerman, aren’t you?”

Gloria’s expression turned cagey. She cast a quick look back over her shoulder. “I didn’t say that. I haven’t done anything.”

Annie set her soda down on the bar. The glass didn’t make a sound against the roughly polished bamboo, but the condensation immediately drew a circle on the wood. Annie licked her bottom lip and watched a bead of water drip down the side of the glass, past the bubbles and dark liquid. Separate and still connected. “I’m not really sure what’s wrong with you, Gloria, but you’re way too invested in this sport. It’s their job. Not yours.”

The other woman laughed. “Oh, you’re cute. If you think Nate would have gotten half as far as this without me, you don’t belong in this world. They need our devotion. They need us to be there supporting them. They think they’re superheroes, but they’re not.”

“No, they’re not. They’re human beings.” Annie looked up at the other woman. “Humans who make mistakes and who deserve forgiveness.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gloria’s brow wrinkled with confusion.

“I’m . . . not exactly sure.” Except this was a very, very strange conversation to be having revelations in the middle of.

But when a dark, deep voice sounded from behind her, she didn’t flinch. “When you figure it out, I’d like to be the first to know.”

Part of her had realized that Sean was behind her before he spoke. It felt like every cell in her body was aligned with his. She was focused on him. Couldn’t look away from the other half of herself, after all. It would be like ignoring her own legs. They’d get in the way if she tried.

She turned slowly. He looked good. So good. The five days of competition had deepened his tan another fraction. The blades of his cheekbones were tight with tension, and there were little wrinkles that she hadn’t seen before, fanned out from his eyes. Maybe she was messed up, because she liked knowing that truth. He’d been affected by their distance.

She breathed his name. He didn’t answer, not in words. But the way he looked at her . . .

There was still hope. Maybe. If she could get her brain out of her heart. This stuff didn’t have to be all mind over matter. There was something to be said for instinct and only listening to the way she felt.

Nate stood behind him. As the second-place contender in the competition, Nate would have been giving a handful of interviews with Sean. He was taller than Sean, and Annie realized that the only other time she’d seen him had been in the water, on surfboards. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, and Sean had already made her feel short.

“Gloria?” He put a hand on his girlfriend’s
shoulder. Gloria’s entire attitude immediately changed. Her smile turned into something gentle and real. Her eyes softened. She tilted her head slightly. “Everything all right?”

“Sure, sugar.” She was everything sweetness. “Annie and I were having a bit of a chat. She let me vent a little. Gonna be sad she won’t be coming around on the circuit anymore.” She aimed a deliberately saccharine smile at Annie, who knew exactly what the other woman was really saying.

Sucks to be you. Ta-ta and see ya!

Annie snorted. “Sure. If that’s what you want to say.”

Sean didn’t touch her. Not directly. But he came so close, they could have been breathing the same air. He wanted to hold her. She knew that all the way through her, but she didn’t know how to start it off. If she touched him first, she’d probably shatter into a million pieces. She was barely being held together by a smash of surf wax. If she was put out into the warmth of Sean’s sun, she’d melt. “Is there something you want to tell me, Annie?”

She flashed her own saccharine, faked-out smile at Gloria. “Just that Gloria here is probably the one Ackerman is citing as his source. If I had to lay money on it, I bet she probably dropped a word about your record to the ASP as well.” Oh, fuck it. If she was in for a penny, she might as well be in for a pound. “And I love you, Sean. Gloria and I weren’t talking about that, not in so many words, but the way she talks about you . . . I couldn’t stomach listening to it.”

Sean’s jaw had been tightening while she talked
about Gloria, but as soon as Annie made her awkward segue, his gaze jerked around to her. “What?”

She laughed, because suddenly she felt as light as air. As high as a kite, like she had been the first time he’d taken her surfing last month. “If you’ll let me, I want to say I’m sorry. For everything. Because I love you.”