Ahead in the Heat (19 page)

S
ean’s win that afternoon had been pretty sweet, but he’d had a strangely detached feeling. Like maybe he’d popped into a parallel universe where things had an odd tint. It started with his waking up in a shared bedroom at the Coyote team bungalow, and Matthew Medina snoring. Badly. It hadn’t helped that Matty had stumbled in past three in the morning. He’d been knocked out of the competition two days earlier and had been drinking it off.

Even the ten-point tube ride he’d had in the final had been something Sean did. Not something he felt.

Now, though, with Annie’s face turned up to him, her dark eyes confused and filling with a gleam of hope at the same time, he had a full grasp of the moment. His blood charged hard. Shocks of sensation rocked down the backs of his legs and through his arms. He was as light as air, and he could bounce on the balls of his feet to get the energy out.

But she’d lobbed two bombs in his lap at the same time, and one of them was about to go off with the sputtering, protesting Gloria. That had to be dealt with. Since it was a woman he was facing, for once he couldn’t deal with the problem with his fists.

Sean needed to touch Annie, though. He brushed the backs of his knuckles across her jaw, soft as
white-water mist. She didn’t pull away. His breathing froze for a second.

He hadn’t thought he’d be able to touch her. Not ever again. It had been a literal ache in the pit of his stomach. He’d lain in his borrowed single bed, staring at the ceiling.

She reached up and folded her hand over his, holding it to her face.

A disgusted sigh echoed behind them. “Come on, Nate. I have no idea what that psycho was talking about, but they’re obviously being drama queens. Let’s go.”

“No.”

“What?”

Sean couldn’t remember the last time Nate had actually said no to Gloria. The dude was so easygoing, he usually didn’t get up in the middle of anything. Not even his girlfriend. But she’d turned away, holding Nate’s wrist, only to freeze when he issued the simple declaration. She twisted her shoulders toward him. Nate stood with his feet set hip-width apart, steady as a mountain.

Gloria jutted her chin out. “No? What?”

Sean wrapped his arm around Annie’s shoulder, halfway expecting her to pull away again. When she didn’t, his heart took a strange little leap. They had a pile of shit to deal with, but maybe . . . Maybe there was something worth dealing with. He could work with that. “No, you’re not going anywhere. Is Annie right?”

She gaped at Sean. “What the hell, Sean? You’re going to take that little bitch’s word over that of someone you’ve known for years? She
dumped
you
right before the biggest heat in your competition. You and I have had a positive relationship since we broke up!”

“That’s not an answer,” he said flatly.

“And why are you trading on how many years you’ve known him, Gloria?” Nate folded his arms over his chest. “You’ve never made any secret of thinking Sean’s more player than surfer.”

“So?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t friends.”

As far as Sean was concerned, once they weren’t in a relationship, Gloria could have disappeared. But she’d stayed in his life because of the quick way she’d taken up with Nate. “Answer the question, Gloria. Did you influence that documentary? Are you the one who told Ackerman about—” Sean jerked his words to a halt, before he could drop the truth. They knew part of the story. That was enough. He hated that enough.

“God,
no
,” she said, propping her hands on her hips. “Fine? No, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have to answer that at all, but I didn’t.”

A dark expression shuttered Nate’s eyes. His mouth pressed flat. He had a bold nose, but in his stress, it seemed to get even bolder with strain, making the skin around it go white. “That’s a lie,” he said in a voice barely more than a rasp. “She always says it three times if she’s lying.”

Anger whipped through Sean like a monsoon. He squeezed Annie’s hand too tight, until she squeezed back in return. “I’ve never done shit to you, Gloria.”

“God, it’s not even that big a deal,” she squealed. “So you grew up in a shitty place. You ought to be
thanking
me. Between the publicity for all that and your win today, you’re on top. You should pull in three new contracts for this!”

“That’s not how I want to make a name for myself.”

“Then you’re an idiot.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest, her chin coming down so that she looked like a three-year-old in a full-on pout. “I just don’t know how you could have won today after your damn shoulder anyway. Nate should have had it. This should be his year.”

“Congratulations,” Annie said in a fake-chipper voice that sounded more like Gloria’s normal tones. “You’ve probably screwed up his head game for the rest of the season. How’s he supposed to get his confidence together when his girlfriend’s a lying harpy?”

“Thanks for that,” Nate said dryly.

Annie shrugged. “Sorry, but if I were you, I’d be wondering about myself.”

“I want you out, Gloria,” Sean said.

“This is a
team
party. You don’t get to make those choices.” She tossed her blond hair again.

“Try me.” Sean lifted a hand in the air and snapped his fingers.

In near moments, two porters and the Coyote team manager were at his side. “Something wrong?” asked Greg Tamiya.

“I need Gloria taken out. Don’t make it a big deal as long she doesn’t make a fuss.”

Greg’s gaze jumped from Sean to Nate to Gloria. “Look, if there’s some kind of disagreement that needs to be worked out, we can sit down and talk it out. . . .”

Sean held on to his barely leashed temper. His teeth ground together. “Not the time, Greg. I’ll tell you about it later. But trust me. It’s better for the brand if she goes.”

“Come on,” said Nate. He latched his grip around Gloria’s slender wrist. “We need to talk this out at home anyway.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she protested. “He’s a bullshit surfer.”

“He won fair and square, Gloria. It was legit.” Nate didn’t give her any more room to protest, only herded her away. He wasn’t being mean, but he wasn’t brooking any disagreement either.

Greg watched them go. He turned a concerned expression to Sean, his mouth disappearing into a flat line. “Look, if this is going to have blowback, we’re going to have to talk about it.”

“I think this might actually solve problems.” Shit, he needed to get Greg fully up to speed. Sean could call his manager and figure out where things needed to go for cleanup. But he looked back at Annie. Business faded when compared to the other thing she’d said. She loved him. He wanted to hear more about that.

She could have been reading his mind. Her mouth was bent in a soft smile, and she lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Deal with her. It’s a problem.”

“But . . .”

“I’ll be waiting for you at the bungalow, okay?”

“Promise?”

Her gaze flitted over him, and he could feel the air burning in his lungs as fiercely as it had a week ago, when he’d burned out at Cloudbreak. But her eyes softened. He could get lost in that dark for a long, long time. “I’ll promise lots of things, if you’ll let me.”

*   *   *

It took Sean about an hour to wrap everything up. Greg was brought up to speed, and then they had a conference call with Max in California. Thank Christ for the age of Skype. The higher-ups at Coyote were worried about the tabloid stories, but they’d be pleased to hear that there would be no more. Combined with his win, they were happy with him. The ASP wanted Sean to invest some time in positive press, just to cover their ass, but Sean had no problem with that. He was fine on the press junket so long as they had a shiny new win to ask him about.

By the time he walked into the
bure
he’d shared with Annie, he was exhausted. He’d been sitting in a little room, shouting into a computer screen because the connection was mediocre to crappy, and the stress had ridden him for months.

Despite that, he felt like he could have run full tilt through the door. Only to come to a screeching halt when the living room was empty. The bedroom had
no sign of Annie either, beyond her open suitcase. At least she hadn’t gone too far. He kicked his shoes off at the back door.

He stepped through the archway to the lanai, and at first he still didn’t see her. She’d seated herself at the high-tide line, folded up into a small ball. Her knees were practically at her chin, and she had her arms wrapped around them. Her hair had been skimmed into twin ponytails.

She’d changed clothes since he’d last seen her. Then she’d been wearing a T-shirt with a video game icon on it, along with navy shorts. Now she’d switched out for a bright blue bikini. He liked the splash of color.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

She gasped and launched to her feet. Her hands flew to her stomach and her throat, and she started panting. “Jesus! Jesus, you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

He slung his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his bare heels. The sand was hot under his feet and between his toes. He’d always loved that feeling. “Didn’t sneak. Not even a little bit.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right. I didn’t hear you over the sound of the waves. I was stuck in my own head too.”

“Find anything good in there?”

“Depends.” She stepped closer to him. The tide was coming up, but even the farthest-reaching waves washed up several feet from them in a shell-thin curve of white foam. “Will you listen to me talk about how much of an idiot I’ve been?”

He felt his shoulders loosen a fraction, and only
then did he realize how tightly he’d been holding himself. Each breath he took worked against unclenching the pressure in his chest. “Only if you stop calling yourself an idiot.”

She’d put on makeup for the postevent party, dark gray shadow over black liner. At some point in the past hour, she must have cried some, because she’d smeared out at the corners in flares like wings. He rubbed his thumb over the proof of her upset. She stopped him by laying her hand over his. “That’s what it feels like. I hurt you. For no real reason that I can come up with beyond that I was uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” His hand tightened on the side of her face, cupping her jaw. “I wish I hadn’t said anything.”

She shook her head almost frantically. “No. No, it was the best thing. Your delivery kind of sucked, and I stand by my point that you can’t throw things like that at someone because you’ve had a crap day—”

He squeezed her shoulders. “It was unfair of me. I know that. I really did mean to drive you away, and that was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever tried to do. I’d have been pushing away my own heart.”

She gasped. Her lips parted, and tears welled up in those big, dark eyes of hers. Her mouth was a soft pout. “Goddamn it, stop being so sweet when I’m trying to apologize.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. A tear welled over her bottom lashes, and he caught it on the edge of his thumb. “Maybe we both need to do some apologizing.”

“I’m first,” she said, showing her stubborn streak. “I was so mean, Sean. You’re the last person in the world I’d want to be awful to, but the words just dropped out of my mouth, and at that moment I was so damn sure I was right. But then . . . since then . . . it’s like my heart has been missing from my chest.”

He swallowed and traced the curve of her ear. It was easier to tuck a lock of hair away than to look at her eyes. “Then why did you say those things? Jesus, Annie. I told you something I’ve never told anyone else.”

“It felt like manipulation.”

He winced. “And that’s my fault.”

“No, no!” Her hands spread across his chest. “It only felt like that because of how strongly I was affected. How bad I felt for you and the way I wanted to wrap you up and promise to make sure you never hurt again. I didn’t understand that I was even capable of feeling that deeply. So I misidentified it. That’s all on me. Not on you.”

“Fuck, that’s harsh.” He swallowed. The lightness that had started in the middle of his chest began to sink away. “That’s the kind of suckage that I don’t know if I can forget.”

Her shoulders drooped, and her head did too. The tears that had barely been leaking out suddenly broke in a cascade of searing tracks. Her tiny
oh
was as dejected a sound as he’d ever heard before. “No,
okay. I get it. I fucked up. You can’t be with someone you can’t trust.”

Except the last thing in the world that he wanted was to walk away at this moment. He was glued to her. Tied with invisible bonds that might have to learn to stretch or to twist . . . but they’d never break.

He thumbed away her tears and lifted her face. A thin track of mascara marked the path of her tears. “Annie . . . I trust you.”

A
nnie had never thought she’d hear those words from Sean. Not after what she’d done. How badly she’d freaked out. His head was bent toward her, and his hands on her had more power than she’d ever felt. The tide started to lick their feet with the relative chill of the waves, but she hardly noticed. The water nibbled away at the sand beneath her feet, but she only dug in and held on. And that was exactly what she meant to do for the rest of her life with this man.

“Sean, don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

He flashed her a smile that was faintly dumbfounded. His eyes were so bright, she almost thought their intensity was caused by a sheen of tears. She couldn’t quite tell in the gleam of the setting sun. Her heart wanted to believe it, but the stunned part of her brain said she had finally lost it. Then he followed it up with a harsh laugh. “I tell you that I love you, and you tell me that I’m wrong. But I tell you that I trust you, and that’s what does it for you?”

She giggled, even though the response felt a little hysterical as the sound bubbled up through her throat. “What can I say? I’m a strange girl.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. She was safe there. She was even safer when she lifted her
face to his and he took her with an overwhelming kiss. His lips skated over hers, came back again and again to sip at her. Even the waves coming up around their ankles weren’t enough to tear them apart.

Annie wound her arms around his shoulders and laced her fingers together. She’d do whatever it took to hold him close, to keep him wrapped up with her. “I need you, Sean. I thought I was all better, all healed and perfect as I was. So independent that I insisted on doing everything alone.” She sobbed. “But I needed your life. I needed you to bring me back to the things I’d once loved.”

“You’re the one who brought yourself back to life.” His strong, broad hand on her face was a source of heat and strength. “You’re a surfer, Annie. That’s your joy. I didn’t do anything but offer you a board. That was all.”

“You’re so full of it.” Her tears and laughter mixed together in a strange hybrid of emotion. Everything smacked into her at once. She hadn’t realized how empty she’d been. How much she’d been looking for someone like Sean to stand at her side. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a long time, or I wouldn’t have fired you as a client.”

“I made it worth it,” he said with a ghost of his usual cocky smile.

She let her neck bend enough that her forehead pressed against his chest. He still wore the red rash guard he’d competed in. He’d gone straight to the winner’s podium, to interviews, to what was supposed to be his big party. The celebration of his win. And she’d thrown a giant monkey wrench into the
process. Still, it was the most casual she’d seen him other than when he was naked. For Sean, there were only two speeds—hard and harder. One involved impressing everyone to make sure they didn’t see behind his image. The fastest way to impress everyone was
winning
. Winning wasn’t as easy as breathing for him. It was something he fought for with every bone in his body and every brain cell he could fire up. If he could start tapping into that fire, he could move right up the ranks.

He rested his chin on the top of her head. She was sheltered in his arms, completely safe from the rest of the world. “So I suppose this is a good moment to tell you that I signed off on all the funding for your center?”

“What?” Her voice approached a screech. No, scratch that, it was a total screech. She pushed back in his arms so far that she could see the way his blue eyes gleamed. “You’re lying.”

“Never.”

“When the hell did you do that?”

He cupped the back of her head, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep her from leaning back too far, or trying to bring her closer to him. It didn’t really matter, though. The point was that she loved the curve of his mouth and the way his cheeks had softened. “About fifteen minutes before I walked into the Coyote team afterparty.”

The sobs welled up like lava from a Hawaiian volcano. They burned her from the inside out. She pressed her face to the silky fabric of his rash guard.
“No. You did not. Why would you do something like that?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” He kissed her cheeks, his lips wiping away the tracks of her tears. “Because the center is a good thing that deserves to happen. Even if it’s not your bonus. Even if you and I weren’t going to be together . . . I wasn’t going to punish the kids who could have benefited from it.”

“You’re insane,” she said, but her sobs were fading away. In the wake of the lava was new land. New territory she’d explore.

“Does that mean you don’t want it?” he teased, dipping his knees to look her in the eyes. His smile sparked her all the way from her toes to the tips of her fingers. “I suppose I could figure out a way to take it back.”

“Don’t you dare!” She hiccuped, she’d been crying so hard. She dashed away her tears with the backs of her hands. The smile on her face threatened to squeeze her cheeks. “If you take it back, I won’t be able to hire a director. And if I can’t hire a director, I can’t visit you on tour.”

He froze. “Do you mean that, Annie? I wouldn’t ask it of you. I’d come home to Southern California all I could. It could be enough.”

“It could be . . . but I don’t want it to.” She pressed her mouth to his, taking in his growl to herself. His grasp squeezed tight around her waist. She was possessed by him, but that was okay, because she possessed him right back. “I love you, Sean. You’re not getting any farther away from me than absolutely necessary.”

“Say that again.”

“I love you.”

He shook his head. “No, the other part.”

“That you’re not getting away from me?”

“That.” He sounded reverent. “I wasn’t wanted before, Annie. I’ve been thrown away many times in my life before this. The thought that you might do it too . . .”

“Never. Never, never. I promise, Sean. We’ll be together. And I want you desperately.”

“I want you too, Annie. Forever.”